#whitebeard pirates/reader

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

A Sparrow at Sea 1/?

MDNI

Whitebeard pirates/reader (fem)

Summary: Turned into a bird as part of a slave-smuggling operation, you get your revenge - and then your revenge gets you. Panicked and alone, you crash land on a very large, very famous ship full of very large and quite infamous men.

I promised myself I wouldn't post another incomplete one-shot, but here we are! Dealing with a bit of burnout and could use the interaction, buddies. Aiming for maybe two more 'chapters.'

Enjoy!

The bastards turned you into a bird.

So, you set their fucking warehouse on fire.

You sat – perched – several rooftops away, watching the little flames you’d gathered work into the prepared kindling.

Satisfaction glowed warm in hollow bones.

It hadn’t been easy. You’d labored for hours, too angry to rest after escaping the Devil Fruit user’s sweaty hands as he tried to shake your shrunken body out of your clothes and into a cage. You’d pecked his hands bloody and taken off through a broken shutter.

The kidnappers’ second Devil Fruit user, a Zoan type, slammed into the wood behind you, the owl too big to fit through the same crack a sparrow could. He’d hooted in rage, and you went scrambling over rooftiles and windowsills, trying to understand how to grab things with your feet.

Adrenaline fed into growing anger, and your little heart pumped hard with outsized emotions. Hiding was easy when you were so small. Plenty of merchants threw covers over their market stalls at night, and every building had nooks and crannies you could hop inside. Away from the men, their fingers, and their talons.

Once the owl’s shadow stopped circling and the night lost its edge to the blue hour, you set about your revenge.

Flying was more or less intuitive (a few painful experiments aside). Figuring out what you could and couldn’t lift took longer. You’d hoped to wrap some coals to drop on your target, but they were too heavy and dangerous to manage without hands. You took to setting twigs and scraps alight in torches and open lanterns. The flames caught you more than once, but only your poor little feet. If you lost your feathers, you’d have new problems, and you’d rather struggle to stand than fail to fly. At least in your current shape.

Which you’d have to do something about.

At some point.

If it didn’t wear off.

Which was a level of horror you weren’t ready to face yet. You’d contemplate your future as you took a dust bath in the ashes.

What would’ve taken less than an hour in your human body took until daybreak as a sparrow.

You panted as you watched the fruit of your labor ignite like a second sun. Straw and twigs fed the blaze until it clawed past the shingles and into the beams, growing fast and hungry down the walls and into the great room below. You hoped their smuggled goods would go up in smoke. You hoped the man who’d taken your hand to seal a deal for a few pounds of fenced sea stone would lose skin, limb, or life.

Damned slave trader.

It had all been too well-rehearsed to be their first attempt, and the cage was old and well-used. It wasn’t a bad plan, practically speaking. None of the Yonkos liked having people from their territories poached, even if they participated in the trade themselves, and sneaking a whole person out of a busy port was no easy task, let alone a profitable number of whole persons. A cage full of sparrows, though? No one would look twice.

If you were bigger, you’d lock the doors so they could all burn together.

But maybe they would anyway. The first shouts didn’t rise until the roof had collapsed, and you imagined a room full of sleeping men slapped awake with fire and falling beams.

The flesh on your feet cracked as you adjusted your grip on the roof’s edge, but you took the pain with pride. You’d done this. They thought they stripped your power from you with your sturdy bones and your opposable thumbs, but they were all wrong. Dead wrong. Fuckers.

The smoke hung low over the town, blending with the dense fog rolling in from the sea. Leaping flames illuminated the haze and cast writhing shadows on the streets below. Just as the neighborhood woke to the smell and distant screams, and the first calls for water and aid rang out, a winged shadow launched through the hole that used to be the warehouse’s roof.

The owl looked more like a demon from your diminished perspective, and you hunkered low on instinct, hoping he wouldn’t see you – the one animal lacking common sense – lingering within blocks of the mounting inferno.

But sharp, predatory eyes locked on you, and he dove with a shriek that promised murder. He could disembowel you in the public square and no one would even know they were witness to your execution. The owl was built to stab, and rip, and tear flimsy little things like you apart.

His wings spread wide, and his talons flashed gold as they came to bear.

You flung yourself from the roof, flapping wildly to catch the air as you fell away from danger. The blades on the monster’s feet scratched into the wood where you’d just been, and your heart stuttered.

He wanted you dead as much as you wanted him to burn.

As the owl gathered himself, peering into the dark for his target, you managed to find your balance in the air. Fluttering low and fast, you took the first corner. Your hunter’s wings were silent, and you only knew how close he came when an unnatural breeze cur over your back.

Too close.

No matter how small and quick you were, so long as he kept you in sight, he was always a breath from drawing blood. He knew his shape, and you did not. Sooner or later, you’d run out of corners, out of obstacles to keep between you.

And then you would die.

As a fucking bird.

Overhead, the fog thickened as you neared the water. The smoke wasn’t so heavy, but plenty of people lost themselves in weather like this. Maybe you could lose an owl.

You pushed into the damp, white cloud, serpentining to keep the owl from diving at you again. A discontented rumble of a hoot broke the silence in your wake, and you raced on, chasing the sound of waves and the densest cover.

As the sun rose, the water vapor glowed, catching and holding the light. You hoped it blinded the predator. At least convince him the chase wasn’t worth it.

But you couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t see him. So, you kept on flying like you were being hunted. Just because you were clever didn’t mean you were the smartest one in the room. You’d learned that lesson the hard way many times over, and it rubbed itself into your fresh wounds all over again with the salty sea spray.

There was always someone quicker, someone sharper, someone stronger. Someone with better connections and greater wealth. And no one had the decency to lay their traps in the open with a warning signs for casual passersby.

Over confidence wouldn’t get you this time. You’d fly forever if meant escaping the Zoan-user.

It felt like you did fly forever.

The sun rose, the fog thinned, and you started circling to look above, below, and behind for the shadow of another, larger bird. Besides a few seagulls, though, nothing appeared. Which was a relief until the fog cleared away and nothing but ocean spread below you.

You nearly fell out of the sky when you realized you couldn’t see land. Not even a lump on the horizon. You’d thought the fog would be gone by midmorning, but you realized the sun was too high and too low at the same time, like it had already crested and started heading down.

You were lost.

Worse, you were tired.

Sparrows weren’t seabirds. They couldn’t soar through empty skies to far-flung islands without many rest points in between.

You had flown far. And you saw no rest points. Not even a rock or a breaching chunk of coral.

Panic drained into a reserve, fueling a mindless fugue state that pulled you away from your growing distress. Your wings burned, but you shouldn’t have them at all. Dangerous thoughts. If felt like you were still carrying fire in your fragile claws, and you shuddered as your legs tucked too close to your body. Wrong feet, wrong legs, wrong body.

You shouldn’t be a bird at all, and you were going to die as one because you picked a fight with many someones much bigger than you without any kind of escape plan or preparation. An idiot in feathers with a small brain and burnt toes.

How much longer could you stay aloft? If not for the strong wind, you thought you might’ve already dropped low enough for the higher waves to catch your wings. And then you’d be doomed. Death by drowning or a hungry shark. Maybe even pecked to death by the gulls loitering in your periphery.

What a way to go.

And then you saw a shape in the distance. Tall and broad. That was all you could make out. It could’ve been a sea king for all you cared, so long as it stayed above the surface and let you rest.

The thing had a whale’s face, but not a whale’s shape. A whale island? No. No, you realized those square clouds were sails. Those holes were for cannons, not little caves in a cliff. Even as a human, you distantly understood, the ship – because it could only be that – was enormous. The whale at the head made sense. Good gods, it might as well be a floating island. Or an island whale.

People milled around the deck, so you fluttered up, calling on the last of your energy and determination to find a safe roost. The top of an empty crow’s nest was just what you needed. You crashed into the platform, rolling into the mast, where you sprawled – legs up – under the crushing weight of survival.

[arkaiveofurown]

you left him a kiss mark without him knowing 💋

Pairings: Law x Reader, Sabo x Reader, Zoro x Reader, Ace x Reader

Word Count: ~1,000 - 2,000 words each

tags: fluff

my masterlist here ♡

——

Law

You caught Law alone in his cabin after a long day at sea. The sun was dipping low outside, casting a warm orange glow through the small window, stretching shadows across the sparse, functional room. Maps, medical supplies, and a few personal items cluttered the desk where Law was bent over his work.

“Mind if I crash here for a bit?” you asked, voice teasing as you leaned against the doorframe.

Law looked up slowly, his dark eyes sharp, narrowed in mock suspicion. “You mean, just to bother me?”

You smirked and stepped inside, closing the door behind you. “Maybe.”

His usual calm stayed unshaken, but you caught the faintest lift at the corner of his mouth, like a secret smile.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “But only for a moment.”

The cabin smelled faintly of antiseptic and sea salt, and you moved closer, feeling the coolness of the room contrast with the heat of your fingers as you brushed your hand lightly over his wrist.

Your lips brushed softly over his jawline, then you quickly pressed a kiss mark just below his ear—red and bold against his pale skin.

Law froze for a heartbeat, eyes flicking down to the spot, but then he simply tilted his head so you could see better.

“Well, well.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh softly. “What?”

His expression stayed unreadable, cool as ever. He didn’t say more, eyes flickering between you and the maps scattered before him.

Without breaking focus, he spoke, “You’re unpredictable.”

You grinned. “And you like that.”

Law’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t react to the mark on his neck—not outwardly.

You stepped back, heart pounding just a little, pleased that your secret was still safe.

——

The night air was cool, the stars blinking faintly overhead as the crew slowly filtered onto the deck. The work was done for the day, and a casual, easy quiet settled over the Polar Tang.

You leaned against the railing, glancing toward Law who stood near the helm, staring out over the dark sea. The faint red stain on his neck was hidden beneath his high collar, but not to everyone.

Bepo was the first to notice.

“Heh,” he said low, nudging Shachi with his paw. “You see that on Captain?”

Shachi followed his gaze, then grinned. “The lipstick? Yeah. She’s got guts, putting that there.”

Bepo laughed softly. “Captain’s so serious, he probably thinks it’s just a scratch.”

Shachi shook his head. “I bet you five berries he doesn’t even know.”

Bepo’s eyes sparkled. “That’s hilarious. Can you imagine? The Surgeon of Death, with a bright kiss mark?”

Just then, Penguin ambled over, curious about their whispering.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, tilting his head.

Shachi lowered his voice even more. “You know Captain, right? Well… someone left a little gift on him.”

Penguin blinked, eyes wide. “Really? But Captain’s so focused. He wouldn’t notice.”

Bepo grinned. “Exactly. It’s our little secret.”

Penguin chuckled quietly, and Jean Bart, leaning nearby with a cigarette, flicked ash and smirked.

“That’s bold. But no one messes with Captain like that unless they’re special.”

Bepo grinned wider. “We keep quiet though. No need to ruin the surprise.”

They all exchanged knowing looks, careful to keep their voices low so the Captain wouldn’t hear—except, of course, Law did.

You spotted the slight narrowing of his eyes, the subtle tightening of his jaw as he remained still near the helm, pretending to watch the dark sea.

Bepo whispered again, “Better keep it down, Captain’s listening.”

But Law’s voice cut through, calm and even. “If you’re all talking about me, I suggest you be more discreet.”

The crew froze for a heartbeat, then quickly scattered, chuckling quietly as they moved away.

You stepped forward, heart pounding slightly as you approached Law.

“Got caught,” you murmured, brushing your fingers lightly over the collar hiding your kiss.

Law’s eyes met yours, sharp but unreadable. “Did you think you’d get away with it?”

You smiled, trying to keep your cool. “Maybe I hoped. It’s not exactly subtle.”

He reached out, gently tugging the collar down just enough to reveal the faint red mark.

“Bold,” he said, voice low.

Your breath hitched. “You don’t mind?”

Law tilted his head, smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I might even say I like it.”

You blinked, caught off-guard by the honesty buried in the calm edge of his voice. “Really?” you asked, tone teasing but quiet, testing him.

He didn’t look away. “I just don’t appreciate being the last to know I’ve been branded like property in front of my own crew.”

Your brows rose, lips twitching into a slow grin. “Property, huh? That’s a strong word for someone who lets me crawl into his bed every time I’m cold.”

Law didn’t flinch, though his fingers twitched slightly where they still held the edge of his collar. “That’s different. That’s quiet. This—” He glanced down toward the faint stain near his neck again, “—this is loud.”

“Mm.” You leaned in slightly, so close your lips nearly brushed his ear. “Then maybe I should go louder next time. Somewhere they can’t miss.”

His breath caught just enough for you to notice.

He turned his face just slightly toward yours, voice low and clipped. “You’re trouble.”

“And you like it.”

Law’s eyes searched yours for a long, still moment. Then he murmured, “Too much.”

There was something almost dangerous in how softly he said it. Not a warning. A confession.

The silence between you tightened, slow and heavy like a pull between magnets. You could hear Shachi and Penguin laughing faintly from below deck, Jean Bart’s footsteps fading toward the galley. But up here, it felt like the rest of the crew had disappeared.

You brushed your knuckles against his coat lapel, playful but deliberate.

“I can stop if it bothers you,” you offered gently—meant it, even if your tone still carried that bite.

He studied you for a second longer, unreadable. Then he reached forward and slipped two fingers under your chin, tilting your face up—not roughly, just enough.

“Do it again,” he said simply.

You blinked. “What?”

He stepped in, barely an inch of space between your bodies now. “Next time you decide to mark me—do it where I can feel it happen.”

Your stomach dropped and soared all at once.

“Oh?” you breathed, eyes gleaming. “Captain giving orders now?”

Law’s smirk was razor-sharp. “Just making sure I’m aware of the battlefield.”

You laughed under your breath, hand sliding to rest lightly on his chest. “And here I thought you’d be the one hiding in the dark, pretending not to care.”

He leaned in—close enough that your noses nearly touched.

“I always notice, y/n. Don’t forget who you’re dealing with.”

Your heart kicked hard behind your ribs.

But instead of kissing you, he stepped back. Just slightly. Just enough to drive you crazy.

Then: “Now get below deck,” he said smoothly, the Captain voice back in place. “Before you tempt me into something more reckless.”

You grinned and turned, making your way toward the hatch.

But just before you disappeared below, you looked over your shoulder and shot him a wink.

“Next time,” you promised, “I’ll use redder lipstick.”

Law exhaled a slow breath as you vanished from view, head tilting back toward the sky.

He didn’t say anything.

But he didn’t pull his collar up again, either.

——

Sabo

The meeting room inside Baltigo’s command hall was quiet, the long table lit by afternoon sun filtering through cracked windows. Maps were spread out across the surface, alongside hastily scrawled notes about incoming cipher intel and revolutionary cells in East Blue. Dragon sat at the head of the table, silent and composed, while Sabo leaned over the documents with his usual sharp focus.

You were seated to his right, scribbling logistics into a worn notebook, trying very hard not to grin.

Because you knew something Sabo didn’t.

You’d kissed him earlier. Just once. Light, teasing. A playful brush of lips as he adjusted that damn cravat of his. You’d leaned in and left a perfectly placed red lipstick mark right under the tied fold, tucked slightly into the side of the pristine white fabric.

He hadn’t noticed. Too busy grumbling about supply routes.

Now here you were, all gathered for a high-level meeting—and Sabo had a bright crimson signature under his collar.

Belo Betty sat across from you, eyeing the spot.

Koala leaned forward, whispering in her ear, trying and failing to suppress her smirk.

Hack was stone-faced… but you noticed the twitch of his fin as he sipped his tea.

Lindbergh was humming faintly, fiddling with his toolkit, eyes darting toward Sabo every few seconds.

You kept your head down, pen moving smoothly, until—

Dragon’s voice cut through the room like a blade.

“Sabo.”

Sabo glanced up from the map. “Yeah?”

Dragon didn’t even blink. “You have something red on your neck.”

Silence.

Sabo froze. “…What?”

Dragon gestured mildly, eyes back on the war map. “On the left side. Under your scarf. Lipstick, I think.”

Sabo’s hand flew up to his neck like he’d been stabbed.

He touched the edge of the scarf. Paused. Fumbled.

Everyone was watching.

Koala choked on her breath.

Betty outright cackled.

Lindbergh slapped the table.

You buried your face in your notebook, trying to look innocent—and failing miserably.

“I—” Sabo stammered, yanking the scarf free with slightly shaking hands. His eyes found the red smudge instantly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered, bright scarlet blooming across his face.

Betty leaned over, voice sweet like poison. “Aw, who left you a souvenir, Chief of Staff?”

Koala was grinning ear to ear. “You said you were reviewing reports this morning.”

“I was!” Sabo snapped, his ears going pink. “I was—”

“Uh-huh,” Lindbergh snorted. “And was that part of the report? A personal… stamp of approval?”

You reached out and tapped your pen on the table, biting your lip. “Well… I did approve him.”

Sabo whipped toward you, scandalized. “You—!”

You blinked, all innocent eyes. “What? I figured you’d notice and wipe it off.”

Dragon cleared his throat. Everyone went quiet.

Then he looked at you with the faintest quirk of a brow. “Efficient marking technique.”

Another wave of laughter echoed through the room.

Sabo groaned and dropped his face into his hands. “I cannot believe this…”

Koala giggled, nudging you with her elbow. “Honestly, we should’ve guessed. You’ve had that lipstick all day.”

You shrugged with a smirk. “He looked too good not to. You know how he gets when he ties that scarf.”

“Do not encourage her,” Sabo muttered behind his palms.

Dragon turned back to the map like nothing happened. “Alright. If we’re done discussing Sabo’s love life—”

“We are not,” Betty cut in gleefully.

“—we can return to the South Blue supply chain.”

Sabo gave you a betrayed look as you leaned toward him, whispering with a grin. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

He gave a long-suffering sigh, cheeks still red, and muttered, “You’re dangerous.”

You bumped your knee against his under the table. “That’s why you like me.”

——

The meeting finally adjourned with scattered murmurs and the shuffling of papers. Dragon was already gone, Hack and Lindbergh trailing after him. Koala gave you one last wink before slipping out, and Betty was still laughing to herself as she lit a cigarette in the hallway.

You stayed seated. So did Sabo.

He hadn’t looked at you after that small talk, still pretending to organize his notes even though his ears were visibly red. The scarf lay useless in his lap now, the crimson smear glaring up at him like a crime scene.

You cleared your throat. “You gonna wear that again tomorrow?”

His pen paused mid-line. “Not if you’re going to vandalize it.”

You tilted your head with mock innocence. “Is that what it’s called now?”

He exhaled sharply, finally turning toward you—blue eyes narrowed, cheeks stubbornly flushed. “You think you’re so clever.”

“I don’t think it,” you said, sliding your notebook shut and leaning in, voice low and teasing. “I know it.”

He watched you, still not smiling. But his foot nudged yours lightly under the table. “That was a meeting with Dragon.”

“Yup.”

“And I walked in there like a target with lipstick on my neck.”

“Mmhmm.” You grinned. “You should’ve checked.”

Sabo rolled his eyes, but his voice had softened. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Oh please,” you said, inching closer. “You didn’t even flinch during the briefing on Cipher Pol infiltration. One kiss and suddenly you forget how to speak?”

“You call that one kiss?” he muttered. “That was strategic sabotage.”

You laughed, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “You love it.”

He didn’t deny it. Just stared at you for a moment, then quietly set his papers aside.

“Come with me.”

Your brows rose. “Where?”

“Somewhere without Betty’s commentary,” he said under his breath, already standing and rolling his scarf into his coat pocket. “I need five uninterrupted minutes with you.”

You raised a brow. “To yell at me?”

“To retaliate,” he said simply, and offered you his hand.

You didn’t hesitate.

As you followed him down the empty hallway, your fingers laced with his, the mark might’ve faded—but the heat he carried from it definitely hadn’t.

——

Zoro

“Someone’s gonna come looking for you.”

Zoro didn’t move. Just leaned back against the wooden crate behind him, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded, watching you like you were the only thing in the world worth tracking.

“They won’t look here.”

Your back pressed to the other crate across from him, just a few feet apart, breath still quick from the last kiss. Straw Hat’s supply storage — tucked behind the galley — was quiet. Safe. Stolen.

“I told you to stop sneaking off mid-training,” you said, not even trying to sound annoyed anymore.

“I told you to stop wearing that lipstick.”

You licked your teeth. “Why?”

He pushed off the crate and closed the distance.

“You know why.”

You tilted your head as he boxed you in. “You gonna complain?”

He didn’t answer — just kissed you again. Rough, hot, a little clumsy in that way he always was when he lost control first.

His hand curled under your jaw. Your palm slipped beneath his open collar. Lips clashed once, twice, then he paused—

You kissed the side of his throat.

Firm. Slow. On purpose.

He froze. “The hell was that?”

You smirked against his skin. “You’ll find out.”

“You’re being annoying.”

“You like it.”

Zoro grunted. “Tch. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Then came the sound of heavy footsteps up above — someone stomping across the upper deck.

Zoro tensed.

You stepped back, patting his chest. “Go.”

“You’re the one who—”

“Go before someone asks where your shirt went.”

He muttered something rude under his breath, grabbed his gear from the crate, and disappeared out the side passage.

You waited a beat, adjusted your jacket, checked your lipstick.

Still perfect — aside from the very deliberate red smear now painted just below Zoro’s jaw.

You grinned to yourself.

And walked back up to the galley like nothing happened.

——

“Zoro.”

Sanji’s voice snapped across the deck like a whip.

Zoro didn’t look up. “What.”

“Zoro,” Sanji hissed again, marching over, pointing like he’d found a crime scene. “The hell is that on your neck?”

Zoro blinked. “What’re you talking about.”

Sanji stopped a meter away, planted his hands on his hips, and leaned in.

“That, moss-brain,” he said, stabbing a finger toward the side of Zoro’s neck. “That bright red smear. Looks like a damn kiss.”

Zoro frowned, reaching up. “What the hell—”

“You’re not even gonna deny it?!”

“I didn’t say it was—!”

“Oh my god,” Sanji reeled backward, spinning in a circle. “Who?! Who the hell would be desperate enough to kiss you?!”

“Shut up.”

“I swear, if you laid a finger on Robin-chwan—!”

“I didn’t!”

“Nami-swan?!” Sanji staggered. “I’ll kill you!”

“You’ll try.”

Then Sanji froze, eyes going wide.

“…Y/N?!”

Zoro blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been training with her a lot lately—skipping meals, disappearing after dinner—and now this?! Don’t tell me you corrupted her, you goddamn muscle goblin—!”

Zoro stood up slowly. “You say one more word about her and I’ll slice your tongue off.”

Sanji gawked. “So it was her?!”

“I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t deny it!!”

Across the deck, Nami shielded her face with her hand, laughing silently. Robin sipped her tea with amusement.

You leaned against the railing nearby, pretending to watch the clouds.

Usopp leaned over toward you, stage-whispering, “So…was it you?”

You blinked innocently. “Why would I kiss Zoro?”

Usopp raised both brows. “You tell me.”

You sipped your drink. “Maybe the same reason someone hasn’t said a damn thing to stop Sanji yet.”

The swordsman still stood there, scowling as Sanji ranted about honor and lipstick and romantic delusions.

Nami leaned casually against the railing, one hand covering her mouth to hide a grin. “Well, well, looks like someone isn’t as sneaky as they think.”

You shot her a playful glare but smiled. “Maybe I like showing off a little.”

Robin sipped her tea, raising an eyebrow with a knowing look.

Sanji, still visibly steamed, muttered, “I can’t believe I’m the last to know.”

Zoro didn’t say much, just gave you a side glance — the slightest hint of a smirk twitching his lips.

“You really gonna keep doing this?” he asked, voice low.

You stepped closer, brushing your fingers lightly over his wrist.

“Only if you promise to keep noticing.”

Zoro’s eyes flickered to the spot on his neck.

“Damn it, you’re impossible.”

Nami laughed softly. “Honestly, it’s cute.”

Sanji groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up.

“Cute? I’m surrounded by fools.”

Zoro ignored him, pulling you just a little closer.

“Let’s keep this between us. No need to make it a crew thing.”

You nodded, resting your forehead briefly against his.

“Just us.”

Sanji muttered, “Good luck keeping that secret…”

Zoro glanced down at the faint lipstick mark on his neck, then quickly looked away like he wasn’t supposed to have noticed. His voice was quieter than usual, almost shy.

“You… left that there.”

You smiled gently, stepping closer.

“Yeah. Didn’t think you’d catch it.”

He cleared his throat, fingers twitching slightly as if unsure what to do next.

“I… I don’t really like showing off.”

You reached out, brushing a stray hair behind his ear.

“I know. That’s why I made it small. For just you.”

Zoro’s jaw clenched, but it wasn’t anger — more like trying to keep his cool.

“Don’t make a habit of it.”

You laughed softly, leaning into his side.

“Only if you want me to.”

His hand found yours quietly, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“Just… don’t be too obvious next time.”

You looked up, catching the small, almost-hidden smile tugging at his lips.

“Deal.”

And for once, Zoro didn’t say anything else—just pulled you a little closer, and the quiet said everything.

——

Ace

The armory wasn’t where most crewmates snuck off to flirt, but you liked the smell of steel and the thick walls. It was cool inside.

Ace leaned against a stack of crates, sweat glistening at the base of his throat, shirt half undone and clinging to his back. The heat from his body didn’t help the temperature, but you didn’t complain.

“You’re late,” you said, arms crossed as you leaned back against the door.

Ace grinned, slow and sharp. “You said ‘when you’re done with rounds.’ I did my rounds.”

You pushed off the wall and walked toward him, letting your fingers trail over a rack of throwing knives. “Did you? Or did you let Blenheim take your shift again?”

“Does it matter?” he asked, voice dipping.

You stepped into his space, crowding him back against the crates. “Only if you’re trying to get out of putting your hands to use.”

“Oh, I’ll use my hands,” he said, catching your waist with one and tugging you in.

You didn’t resist. You kissed him first — hard, deep, your fingers digging into his belt loops as you bit at his lower lip just enough to draw a low noise from his chest.

Ace responded like he always did: with heat, with hunger, with that slight lack of patience that always gave you the upper hand.

You broke the kiss and let your lips trail down to his jaw. “Stay still,” you whispered.

“What—”

You pressed a slow kiss to the curve of his neck, right under his ear. Intentional. Deliberate.

When you pulled back, he looked dazed — but not suspicious.

“What was that?” he asked, breathless.

“Nothing.”

Ace blinked, confused. “You look smug.”

“I always look smug when I get what I want.”

His eyes narrowed, but he looked too wrecked to question it. “What the hell did you do?”

“Why don’t you go help Haruta with the cargo like you promised,” you said sweetly, pressing a hand to his chest. “You’re already late.”

“You’re kicking me out?”

“I’m letting you walk away before I keep you here another hour.”

Ace licked his lips, clearly debating it. He smirked finally, tapping your hip. “Fine. But you’re not done with me.”

You leaned in and whispered, “I know.”

And just like that, he walked out — shirt open, cheeks flushed, and a very bright lipstick mark stamped on his neck.

He didn’t feel it.

He didn’t look in a mirror.

And you?

You knew the second someone would notice.

Because you heard Izo’s voice echo across the deck less than a minute later:

“Oi… Ace. You forget to wipe off your girlfriend again?”

Ace froze.

You leaned against the armory door, smile creeping back into place.

Checkmate.

The moment hit the deck like a cannonball.

Ace stood dumbfounded, halfway to the rigging, completely unaware. The wind caught the edge of his shirt — still half open, still clinging to his flushed skin — and revealed the bold, unmistakable stamp of your lipstick on the side of his neck.

Bright. Smudged. Deliberate.

From your spot by the armory, you watched it unfold with delicious satisfaction.

“Yo, Ace,” Thatch called from across the deck, barely masking the amusement in his voice. “You get into a fight with a very small, very specific octopus?”

Ace stopped walking. “The hell does that mean?”

“Little red target on your neck, bro,” Thatch said, biting back a grin. “Kinda hard to miss.”

Izo appeared out of nowhere, sipping tea, his eyes sparkling. “That shade of red is very flattering on you. Subtle as a punch to the face.”

Ace reached up instinctively, rubbing the back of his neck. “What? There’s nothing—”

“You’re rubbing the wrong side, hothead,” Marco muttered as he passed by with a bored look and zero intention of helping.

Ace turned in place, trying to look over his shoulder.

“Is this a prank? What is this?”

“Better question,” Vista added with a raised brow. “Who’s bold enough to claim Fire Fist in broad daylight?”

You watched the scene build from the sidelines, arms folded, head tilted slightly. You didn’t say a word. Not even when Ace turned and locked eyes with you.

He knew. Oh, he knew.

“You,” he called out, striding toward you. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t say anything,” you replied, smiling too wide to be innocent.

“That’s exactly what’s suspicious!” His fingers pointed wildly at the crew. “Everyone’s laughing at me, and you’re just standing there looking—smug!”

“Maybe they’re just admiring your fashion choices.”

“Oh my god, you planned this,” he groaned, one hand dragging down his face. “You—You weaponized your mouth.”

You sauntered toward him. “You didn’t seem to mind my mouth ten minutes ago.”

That shut him up. Briefly.

From behind him, Haruta whispered loudly, “He’s been branded.”

“Like cattle,” Thatch added.

Marco raised his cup lazily. “Official property.”

You stood on your toes, brushing your thumb right under his jaw — not wiping it off, just getting close enough to make his breath hitch.

“Next time,” you murmured, “check the mirror before leaving me.”

Ace stared at you, eyes burning like a slow flame. “Oh. You think this is funny?”

You smirked. “I think it’s adorable how long it took you to notice.”

He stepped in, body heat radiating like a furnace. “You know what happens to brats who play games with fire?”

You leaned in, lips brushing his jaw. “They get burned?”

“No,” he growled, fingers curling at your waist. “They get dragged back into the armory and ruined.”

That got a loud wolf-whistle from Thatch.

“Only if you make it past Marco,” you whispered, grinning.

“Try me.”

——

Later that night, the ship was quiet — a lull after laughter and teasing had finally faded into the gentle creak of the Moby Dick’s hull and the ocean beneath.

You were halfway to your quarters when you felt it.

Heat. Behind you.

A hand caught your wrist, pulled you backward into the shadows between two storage rooms. Warm breath skimmed your neck.

“I owe you one.”

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t have to.

“I was wondering when you’d come collect.”

Ace pressed you to the wall, chest brushing yours, one arm braced by your head.

“Wanna tell me why I walked around for half the day marked like your territory?”

You tilted your chin. “Because you are.”

He went still.

Just for a second.

Then he grinned — that cocky, dangerous, beautiful grin that always meant trouble.

“You trying to start something, sweetheart?”

“I think I already did.”

He leaned in, slow and close, until his lips nearly brushed your cheek. “You know everyone saw it, right? Half the crew won’t shut up. Marco asked me if I needed help cleaning up.”

You snorted. “You left me desperate and smug in the armory. That was fair play.”

“Oh, no. That was bait.”

He grabbed your jaw gently, made you look up at him. “You wanted me to find out in public.”

You didn’t deny it. You just held his gaze, lips parted slightly. “You looked good in red.”

“I look better when I return the favor,” he murmured.

And before you could shoot back a smart reply, his mouth was on yours.

Hot. Deep. Claiming.

Not rushed — deliberate. Like he was carving the memory of this moment into your skin. Like he wanted you to remember exactly who you belonged to, the same way you’d left your signature on him.

His knee slid between yours, pressing your thigh up against the wall. His hands found your hips, then your waist, then back to your jaw — like he couldn’t decide where he wanted you most.

You barely managed to whisper against his mouth, “Thought you were mad at me.”

“I am,” he growled. “I’m furious.”

“Liar.”

He kissed you again, hard enough to steal breath.

When he finally pulled back, he was panting lightly, his voice hoarse. “You wanna make this a game? Fine. But don’t think you’re the only one who can leave marks.”

You opened your mouth to tease him—try me on your lips—but his fingers trailed under your jaw, brushing your neck like he was already choosing where he’d leave his signature next time.

He didn’t have to.

You were already melting.

“Next time,” he murmured, “I’ll make sure it’s somewhere you can’t hide.”

You smirked. “Big words, fire boy.”

He chuckled, resting his forehead against yours.

Then his tone softened — quiet in a way that made your chest ache.

“But for what it’s worth…” he whispered, voice barely a breath, “I liked it.”

You blinked.

“The mark,” he clarified, fingers lacing with yours. “Didn’t even care when I saw it. Just thought, hell… someone really loves me, huh?”

That hit you harder than anything else had all day.

Your heart stuttered.

So you leaned up and kissed him again — not to tease this time, not to stir him up. Just to say, yeah. I do.

When you pulled back, you whispered against his skin, “Maybe I’ll leave two next time.”

He groaned. “I knew you weren’t done.”

[sh4nksslvt]

One Month With You

In the final month of your life, you cherishes fleeting moments with your crew, hiding a terminal illness until only memories—and a letter—remain.

red hair pirates x reader | whitebeard pirates x reader | strawhats x reader | ONE SHOT tags: angst, sfw, ooc, major character death, grief, terminal illness a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe and akward word count: 2.6k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

RED HAIR PIRATES

The sea was calm that morning, the kind of quiet that made even the waves seem to hold their breath. The deck of the Red Force was alive with chatter and light laughter, but you stood by the railing, letting the wind sweep through your hair. Your fingers curled around the wood, your gaze far off—not at the horizon, but somewhere past it.

One month. That’s what Hongo told you when he unknowingly confirmed your own suspicions. You’d been hiding the worsening symptoms for months—fatigue that sank deep into your bones, the relentless pain in your chest, the occasional blood you’d spit out into the sea, unnoticed.

You knew he’d figure it out eventually. He was too good not to.

But you hadn’t expected him to burst into your quarters the night before, shaking with barely restrained panic.

“What the hell is this?!” Hongo had yelled, thrusting a tattered medical report into your hands. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say something?!”

You couldn’t meet his eyes. “Because I didn’t want to be watched like a ghost who hasn’t died yet.”

Silence. Deafening.

“...You have a month, Y/N, maybe less. You’re—” His voice cracked. “You’re dying, and you're acting like it's nothing?”

“I have a month, Hongo,” you had said quietly. “Please… just let me have it. Don’t tell the others. Let me spend it with them. Please.”

He didn't answer for a long time. When he finally did, it was with a whisper: “You’re a fucking idiot.” But he pulled you into a hug and didn’t let go until your shoulders stopped shaking.

From that day, you lived more fiercely than ever. You laughed at Shanks’ dumb jokes and drank with him until the world blurred. You challenged Benn to silent stargazing contests, betting on how many shooting stars you’d catch. You dragged Limejuice to island carnivals and flirted shamelessly until his face burned red. You played cards with Hongo, even when your hands trembled too much to hold them.

They all noticed. The Red-Haired Pirates weren’t stupid.

“You’re real clingy lately,” Limejuice teased one night, bumping your shoulder with his. “You sure you’re not sick or something?”

You smiled, heart twisting. “Would you be mad if I said I might be?”

He laughed, oblivious. “Nah. I’d carry you myself if you keeled over.”

You didn’t say anything. Just leaned into his warmth.

Shanks was the hardest. He noticed too much. Noticed how often you disappeared below deck when the coughing fits hit, how your eyes stayed on the ocean longer than they should have.

“You thinking of leaving us?” he asked once, half-joking.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “No,” you lied.

Benn just watched. Always watched. He didn’t say much, but you could feel his eyes lingering on you, searching. You gave him your brightest smiles.

The day you left, the crew didn’t know.

You made breakfast with Chef-level effort, joking with the kitchen staff, slipping kisses to Limejuice's cheek and hugging Shanks tighter than ever. You sat with Benn for hours on the deck, your head on his shoulder, watching the sun creep across the sky.

“I think you’re my favorite,” you whispered, teasing.

He snorted. “Don’t let Shanks hear that.”

He didn’t know that was the last time he’d feel your heartbeat against his side.

That night, you slipped away. A letter for each of them tucked under your pillow. A note for Hongo too:

"Thank you—for letting me pretend I wasn’t dying. I love you all too much to say goodbye."

Morning broke in chaos.

“Where the hell is Y/N?!” Limejuice shouted, tearing through the ship.

“They’re not in the galley, or the crow’s nest!” Benn called out, panic rising in his usually calm voice.

Shanks was quiet, unusually still, staring at the empty hammock where your scent still lingered.

The notes were found soon after. One by one, hands shaking as they read your last words.

You didn’t say goodbye, but each letter bled with love.

“To Shanks — Thank you for making me feel like I belonged in the stars.”

“To Benn — You saw through me. Thank you for not saying anything.”

“To Limejuice — Thank you for reminding me how fun life could be.”

“To Hongo — I’m sorry I made you carry this alone. Thank you for letting me be selfish.”

They thought you ran. Were taken. Benn demanded a search party. Shanks was pale, silent, gripping your letter so tight his knuckles bled. Limejuice punched a wall. Hongo said nothing—for two days.

And then, he snapped.

He threw your medical file onto the table during a heated meeting, eyes wild. “They didn’t leave!....They died. And...I let them.”

The room fell to a breathless silence.

“You knew?” Benn whispered.

“They had a month. They begged me to let them spend it with us, like nothing was wrong. And I let them lie.”

Shanks stumbled back, as if struck. “No. No, they were… they were fine.”

“They were dying, Shanks! They couldn’t breathe without pain, they were—” Hongo’s voice cracked. “They spent their last strength loving us.”

No one spoke.

Limejuice fell to his knees. “We didn’t even say goodbye.”

Later that night, Shanks sat by the railing where you always stood.

“I hope you’re watching the stars from up close now, Y/N,” he murmured, tears streaking his face. “Because we’ll never stop looking for you in them.”

WHITEBEARD PIRATES

You’d always imagined dying quietly, maybe on an empty shore, wrapped in salt and wind. But fate had other plans. Your end would come not with isolation—but surrounded by laughter, drink, and the stubborn, unbearable warmth of the Whitebeard Pirates.

The diagnosis came on a cold, cloudy day—so ordinary it felt like a betrayal.

You'd passed out during training. Woke up with Marco’s worried face looming over you. He’d examined you in complete silence. But his shaking hands and tight jaw told you everything.

“It’s not good, is it?” you asked, voice barely a whisper.

“No,” Marco had said, the word cracking as it left him. “It’s... terminal. A rare degeneration of the lungs and heart. I don’t—there’s nothing I can do.”

You didn’t cry. Instead, you laughed. “So, what—you’re saying I won’t outlive my goldfish?”

He didn't laugh. He looked like he’d been stabbed. “You have a month. Maybe.”

You made him promise to keep it secret.

Just him and Whitebeard.

When Oyaji found out, he sat beside your bed and gripped your hand with those massive, shaking fingers. “You are my child,” he rumbled. “And if this is your last voyage… then let it be the greatest of your life.”

You had never cried before. But you cried then.

From that day, you threw yourself into every moment.

Ace was all fire and impulse, but when he was around you, something softer flickered beneath the surface. He took to dragging you along for sparring matches, even when you claimed your muscles ached.

“I need a challenge,” he’d smirk, sweat glistening down his neck.

“You just want to show off,” you’d tease, raising your fists anyway.

He was always careful not to hit you too hard. Not that you said anything—but he seemed to know. When you tripped one day, coughing blood into your sleeve when he wasn’t looking, he’d jogged over, helping you up without a word. His hand lingered on your arm just a second too long.

That night, you sat beside him, both of you perched on the edge of the ship with your legs dangling into the air.

“You’re weird lately,” he mumbled, eyes on the moon.

You bumped his shoulder with yours. “Just thinking how lucky I am.”

He blinked at you. “To be with us?”

“To be with you,” you said, gently. And he froze, eyes wide, like he didn’t know what to do with that.

“…You’re gonna break my heart, aren’t you?” he whispered.

You smiled, because you already had.

Izo became your confidant without even knowing it. With every eyeliner flick and matching kimono, you gave yourself permission to feel alive. They would hum as they painted your face, hands warm against your cheeks.

“You’re glowing,” they said once, adjusting the red ribbon they tied in your hair.

“Death becomes me, huh?” you joked, and they slapped your arm, scandalized.

“You joke about dying too much.”

You didn’t mean to, but your voice cracked. “It’s easier than pretending I’m not scared.”

Their fingers paused, lips parting. “…Are you scared?”

You looked at them in the mirror, the shimmer of gold powder across your eyelids catching the light. “Yeah,” you said. “But not when I’m with you.”

They smiled then, a bit sad, and leaned in to kiss your temple. “Then let’s live like hell until we drop, dear.”

Thatch was joy personified. It was impossible to be sad around him for long, and that’s what made it hurt worse.

He caught you sneaking dessert at 2 a.m. once and acted like you’d committed a crime.

“Oh-ho! So this is where my pudding went!”

“Your pudding? I thought it had my name on it.”

“I’ll accept bribes in the form of kisses or cleaning dishes.”

You kissed his cheek, and he nearly dropped the bowl.

Every stolen moment in the kitchen became a memory—dancing while covered in flour, whipped cream fights, drunken baking experiments that ended in fire. You’d laughed so hard your sides hurt, even as your lungs begged you to stop.

“You’re making memories,” he said one night, tousling your hair. “That’s what this is. You’ve been clingy lately. Like you’re trying to make every second count.”

You froze, the spoon halfway to your mouth. “…Would you hate me if I was?”

He blinked. “Nah. I’d probably try to hold on tighter.”

You didn’t tell him then. Just leaned into his side and let him talk about his dream of opening a cake café after he retires.

You knew you’d never see it.

Marco was the one who saw the cracks, and it destroyed him. You kept him close because you trusted him most—and that made it hurt more.

You caught him once crying at your door. He didn’t think you were awake.

You opened it, silently wrapped your arms around him, and whispered, “I’m still here.”

“You shouldn’t be this calm,” he rasped into your shoulder.

“I’m terrified,” you admitted. “But I’d rather spend what time I have being loved than dying slowly in a bed.”

He pulled back, staring at you with reddened eyes. “You could have told them.”

“They’d look at me like I was already dead.”

He said nothing, and you reached up to cup his cheek. “Promise me… promise you’ll wait. Let me leave on my own terms.”

“…Okay,” he whispered. “But I’ll hate you for it.”

You kissed his forehead. “I hope you do.”

You left them on a quiet morning.

Then you slipped away, leaving only a bundle of letters on Marco’s desk.

Your final message was simple:

“Don’t let them hate me for this. Please. Just let them think I ran.”

The ship erupted into panic by nightfall.

Ace punched through a wall. “They’re gone?! What do you mean GONE?”

Izo ran through the corridors, calling your name until their voice broke.

Thatch turned the kitchen inside out like he expected you to be hiding in the cupboards, laughing.

Marco couldn’t speak.

He stood at the rail, gripping the wood so hard it splintered beneath his fingers.

Whitebeard stood behind him, silent, his massive shadow cast across the deck like a shroud.

“Do I tell them?” Marco rasped.

“No,” Whitebeard rumbled. “Not yet. Let them rage. Let them mourn in their own way.”

“But—”

“They wouldn’t understand it now,” he said. “Wait.”

A week passed. Then two.

No sign of you.

Your room remained untouched. Your absence echoed louder than any cannon fire.

They scoured islands. Questioned strangers. Considered kidnappers, Marines, even betrayal.

Ace refused to accept it. “They wouldn’t leave us! Not without a word. Not without—something.”

He went to Marco, desperate. “You know something. Tell me.”

Marco finally broke.

He gave Ace your letter.

Ace read it once. Then again and again. Then crumpled to the ground, screaming into his fists.

“They died?! All this time—they were dying?!”

Marco stood frozen, guilt crawling like acid beneath his skin.

“They didn’t want you to mourn them before they were gone,” he whispered. “They wanted to be loved, not pitied.”

Ace couldn’t answer. He just sobbed, curled around your crumpled letter like it could still warm him.

That night, Whitebeard gathered his sons and daughters.

He read your letters aloud. One by one. Each one aching with truth, memory, and love.

“To Ace — You made me feel alive, even when I was already halfway gone.” “To Izo — Thank you for making me beautiful when I felt invisible.” “To Thatch — You made every day sweeter, even the ones I didn’t think I’d survive.” “To Marco — Thank you for holding my secret when it crushed you. I love you most for that.” “To Oyaji — You gave me a family when I had nothing left. Thank you… for letting me die a Whitebeard Pirate.”

By the end, the deck was silent.

No sobs. Just breathless grief.

They didn’t throw a funeral.

They held a feast.

Not because they weren’t mourning—but because they knew you’d hate to see them broken.

They told stories. Passed your favorite drink around. Laughed, cried, and danced with ghosts.

And when the fire died down, Ace stared at the embers and whispered, “I hope you found peace, flame-heart.”

STRAWHAT PIRATES

You didn’t plan on dying at sea, but the Grand Line has a way of making plans for you. The first signs were subtle: a lingering fatigue you chalked up to busy days, aches you blamed on training, the dull pain in your side that you laughed off when Chopper asked if you were okay.

You knew before he did. Deep down, your body had been whispering the truth long before the words made it onto paper.

It wasn’t until you collapsed in the hallway between the kitchen and the infirmary that Chopper realized something was seriously wrong. When you woke up, it was to the sterile smell of the medical bay and his wide, terrified eyes.

“I ran every test,” he said, voice trembling. “And then I ran them again. It’s… it’s bad. Really bad.”

You nodded. Your throat was too dry to answer.

“I—I can’t fix it. Not with what we have on board. Maybe if we got to a major medical port, but even then, I don’t know if—”

You reached out, resting a hand on his tiny shoulder. “How long?”

He hesitated, ears flattening. “A month. Maybe.”

You didn’t cry. Not then. Not even when he begged to tell the others.

“No. Please. Let me have this. Just a month, Chopper.”

“They’ll never forgive me.”

“They will,” you said. “If they knew now, it’d ruin everything. I don’t want pity. I want memories.”

So you began to live. Fully, recklessly, as if the pain eating away at you was just a shadow at your back.

You started with Sanji. He was the easiest to be around, the one whose affection was loud and constant. Every meal became a moment: you insisted on helping in the kitchen, even when he protested. You chopped vegetables until your hands hurt, stirred sauces while leaning against him, snuck little bites when he wasn’t looking.

“You’re here a lot lately,” he said one afternoon, handing you a bowl of soup.

“I like watching you work,” you replied.

He grinned. “You trying to steal my heart, love?”

You leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Maybe.”

He went quiet for a beat. Then, more softly, “You look at me like you’re memorizing my face.”

You didn’t answer. Just smiled.

Zoro came next. You sparred with him almost every day now, ignoring the way your lungs burned, the way your legs shook. He didn’t say anything the first time you collapsed mid-match, just silently carried you to the infirmary.

“You’re pushing too hard,” he said.

“I need to,” you whispered.

“Why?”

You looked at him, really looked. “Because I don’t want to forget what it feels like to fight beside you.”

He frowned. “You’re acting like you’re running out of time.”

You forced a smile. “Aren’t we all?”

That night, he found you on the deck, staring at the stars.

He sat beside you, arms crossed. “You’re not saying something. I don’t like it.”

“I’m just tired.”

“I’d carry you, if you asked.”

Your heart ached. “I know.”

Luffy was harder.

He didn’t notice at first. You were careful around him—too careful. You laughed with him during meals, ran across islands with him, challenged him to stupid games on the deck. But he began to notice the way you lingered during hugs. The way you stared at him too long. The way your smiles didn’t quite reach your eyes.

One evening, you lay beside him on the figurehead, watching the horizon.

He turned his head toward you. “Are you gonna leave?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You look like you’re saying goodbye.”

You looked away. “I’m not. Not yet.”

He was quiet for a while. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to either.”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and didn’t let go until you both fell asleep.

ou made time for everyone else too.

With Nami, you spent lazy afternoons in the library, pretending to study charts. She taught you how to draw maps. You traced the oceans of the world with your fingers and imagined places you’d never see.

“You’re getting good at this,” she said.

“I want to leave something behind,” you murmured.

She didn’t understand then. But she would.

Usopp was a light in the dark. You asked for bedtime stories, exaggerated tales of heroism and romance. He performed them with full sound effects, arms flailing, voice booming.

“You always laugh now,” he noted one night.

“It’s easy, when I’m with you.”

He blushed, scratching the back of his head. “You’re acting like I’m the best part of your day.”

You smiled. “You are.”

Robin gave you quiet comfort. She didn’t ask questions. She simply read to you, let you rest your head in her lap, brushed your hair back from your face.

“You’re calm,” you told her.

“You’re storming,” she replied.

You didn’t deny it.

Franky built you a swing on the back of the Sunny, facing the sea. You spent hours there, feet brushing over the waves, eyes on the endless blue.

“Super chill, right?” he said, adjusting the ropes.

You nodded. “It’s perfect.”

He caught your hand before he left. “You’re not okay.”

You looked up at him. “No.”

“Okay,” he said, voice tight. “You don’t have to be.”

Brook played lullabies for you. Sweet, simple things. You danced with him once, slow and clumsy.

“If I still had a heart,” he said softly, “I think it would ache.”

You rested your head against his chest. “Mine already does.”

Chopper was breaking. Every day, he looked at you like you were already fading. You caught him crying in the storage room once, holding one of your jackets.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered.

“You’re stronger than me,” you said, hugging him.

“I hate lying.”

“I know.”

You waited until they docked at a small island for supplies.

You left at dawn.

Left behind the stargazer chair. The flowered book. The slingshot. The meals. The love.

Left behind a stack of letters in Chopper’s room.

When the crew realized you were gone, Luffy panicked first.

“They wouldn’t leave! They’d never leave!”

Zoro was already on the dock, scanning the shoreline. Sanji lit a cigarette with shaking fingers.

They searched the island. They waited at the ship. They called for you until their voices cracked.

You didn’t come back.

That night, Chopper gathered them in the infirmary.

“I didn’t want to break the promise,” he said, voice trembling. “But… they’re gone. They were dying.”

No one moved.

“…What?”

“They only had a month. They asked me to let them live… without pity.”

Nami burst into tears. "They should’ve told us,”

Zoro punched the wall.

Luffy stood in stunned silence, until he screamed your name into the ocean wind.

They read your letters together. All huddled in the infirmary, hearts shattered.

“To Sanji — You made me feel wanted, even when I felt like a ghost.” “To Zoro — You were my anchor. I always knew where I stood when I was beside you.” “To Luffy — Thank you for being the sun. I needed the light more than you’ll ever know.” “To the Crew — You made me part of a family. You made me more than a dying story.”

They held a quiet vigil on the deck.

Brook played your song one last time. Robin scattered petals into the sea. Chopper lit a lantern and let it drift across the water.

They stayed on that island for days.

Then, they sailed forward—quieter, heavier—but with your memory in their hearts.

You were their nakama.

You were their heart.

You always would be.

[zorosunwashedleftcheek]

Switchin’ Up Positions

Summary: OP men and their fav positions 👅

feat: Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Kidd

cw: f!reader, NSFW, spitting, biting, bruises, idk what to tell you this is a freaky fic

a/n: ignore how I already posted Zoro’s section. it’s NOT my problem… and i edited it bc it was highkey cheeks. Also if this is rushed… i don’t care

Zoro: ✨Riding✨

As a swordsman, he is constantly aware of what and who his back is facing towards. It’s been engrained in him since he was a young child to never leave the area unguarded.

And as much as he trusts you, there’s nothing stopping an enemy from breaking down the door and stabbing him in the back while he’s balls deep in your cunt.

You’re the one who proposed the idea of riding… and he shot it down immediately. He saw it as relinquishing control and hated the idea with every once of his being.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about it… when he’s on top of you, he’s never able to fully focus on you, his ears straining as they listen for enemies outside the door, waiting to attack him while he’s pounding your pretty wet pussy.

So after a few night of thinking, he begrudgingly made his way to your quarters and muttered something along the lines of, “I guess we can try it if you really want…”

And it’s been smooth sailing ever since. He still had complete control, one hand constantly gripping your hips to guide your pace. And he was able to pay attention to you fully and completely.

He found subtleties that he had never noticed before because he was too busy being paranoid. The way you would mewl just barely when his fingers curled and twisted in your cunt. The way your thighs would twitch when he pressed down on your tummy while also thrusting in.

Riding quickly became his go to.

~

He tastes of sake.

It’s as if he’s trying to consume you, his tongue jammed down your throat and his teeth clacking against yours. Zoro took everything he did to the extreme, and kissing was no exception. He may not be super experienced or skilled, but he was hungry, and that more than made up for it.

“C’mere…” Zoro wraps an arm around your waist and drags you down onto the bed, rolling you on top of him and running his hands up and down your bare legs. You’re wearing a skirt… far too small for his liking. And watching you dance and twirl with others all night pissed him off. …Sure, Zoro denied your numerous pleads to dance, but that didn’t mean that another man could fucking dip you, your head nearly touching the ground like that one guy had done.

Now the two of you are alone on the Thousand Sunny, the night still too young for the other Strawhats to retreat.

Zoro kicks off his pants and boxers in a swift motion, his cock sliding out to rest against his stomach, precum beading the tip. He looks up at you expectantly, a stupid smirk on his lips.

God, you hate that you know exactly what he wants.

Zoro grabs your skirt, bunching it up around your waist to watch as you hover above him, your fingers hooked around your panties to pull them aside. He licks his lips at the sight of your pretty pussy, a small string of arousal connecting your folds to the fabric of your underwear.

His hand slides to up and down your thigh, soothingly, before he brings his thumb down to your clit. Rolling his thumb with familiar practiced movements over your pearl, he watches with amused eyes as you suck in a harsh breath, your face flushing as you lick your lips.

“Put it in?” You huff softly, bracing your palms on Zoro’s bare abdomen and rocking your hips forward to rub against Zoro’s length. His mouth twitches and he curses softly under his breath.

Zoro scoffs in response, using his freehand to pop open your blouse. He trails his fingers down the expanse of your stomach before circling around to unclip your bra, freeing your breasts to his hungry gaze. “Why are you asking my permission. It’s yours. You put it in.”

Your nose wrinkles at his expression, he’s looking at you as though you’d asked the dumbest question he’s ever heard. You click your tongue, but lift yourself off of him. Grabbing his twitching cock, you give a few good pumps to spread his precum across his length before positioning his fat, pink tip against your leaking hole.

Zoro twists his hand in your hair and tugs you down for a kiss, his teeth scraping against your bottom lip. You’re dizzy just from his mouth, it’s astounding how you’re ever able to survive his dick.

You can hear Zoro hiss into your mouth as you slowly yet surely suck him inside of you. He’s snug, his tip scraping your walls with every small movement.

“Fuck… you’re good.” Zoro murmur quietly, breaking the kiss to watch your pussy eagerly gobble him up, your hips shimmying to accommodate his cock as it bullies its way into you.

“Zoro…” You groan softly, leaning back and bracing hand on his thigh, your back arching towards him, your tits laying tantalizingly close to his mouth.

“You want it? Yeah, I gotcha, just hold on.” Zoro plants his feet on the mattress, one large, calloused hand moving to grab your hip while the other paws at your breast, squeezing and rolling your areola between his thumb and forefinger. “Use those pretty thighs and help me out, how about it?”

Zoro starts out with a brutal pace, never one to ease into anything. He enjoys the feel of your nails biting into his thigh while the other rests on his navel. Your face is all screwed up, your nose wrinkled and your lips parted as he drills into you. You work to match his pace, but you don’t contribute much. It’s alright though, Zoro likes it that way. He loves having complete control, adjusting how fast you move and how deep you take it. His favorite thing to do is grab your hips and hold you up until just his tip is inside of you, and then watch as you squirm and roll your hips, desperate for the rest of his cock to fill you up.

Zoro leans forward, sucking your tit into his mouth and pressing searing kisses and bites down the valley of your breasts.

Your eyes meet his piercing grey gaze and he can feel your pussy flutter around him. God, everything got you wet, didn’t it?

Your brows furrow, a pout making its way onto your face as you pant, strangled whines and moans slipping past your lips.

“Shit… fucking…” Zoro closes his eyes and drops his head back against the pillows, he can’t even look at you without getting the urge to cum. Your pretty flustered face and those fluttering eyelashes always did him in.

He has to end this quick before he accidentally cums first.

Zoro wraps an arm around your back, tugging your chest down again his. He mouths at your shoulder, leaving shiny saliva in his wake as he adjusts his hips, allowing his cock to ram against your g-spot with each brutal thrust.

He continues to bite and suck along your neck and shoulder while his eyes focus on your thighs watching them twitch and shudder as your ass bounces up and down with each thrust.

“You… gonna cum?” Zoro chokes out as he feels you clamp down around him. It’s more of a statement than a question. He’s fucked you enough times to know your body better than he knows his own. Snaking a hand down to grope and massage your thigh, he drops his head back once again, willing his orgasm away for a few more moments.

Zoro’s not one to talk during sex. He’s way too concentrated on the sensations to try and string together sentences. But he knows that you absolutely adore the sound of his voice, the way it drops an octave when he’s aroused. And in emergency’s he knows that his voice can bring you to the edge with only a few sweet croons.

You give a small, weak nod, a whine tumbling out of your lips, “Fuck… yeah… ‘m gonna cum, Zoro. You’re gonna make me cum… please…”

His lips quirk at your needy voice, god, you’re so sweet to him. “The hell’s stopping you? I wanna feel you cream my cock. Come on… do it already. I’m getting bored.”

His words do unimaginable things to you, the low rasp alone can bring you straight to the edge. Within moments your gummy walls are clamping down around him as you roughly grind against his throbbing cock.

“Ah… shit, Z’ro… I can’t-“ You coo weakly, burrowing your face against Zoro’s neck as he continues to rock your hips, his navel bumping against your clit with each steady movement, causing your thighs to tremble as sharp hisses to escape your lips.

Zoro does his best to ease you through your orgasm, but eventually he has to hoist you off of his cock and set you down on his thighs so that he can pull out in time. Grabbing his blushing cock, he finally allows his orgasm to tear through his body. Zoro’s eyes squeeze shut, his body tensing as he shoots hot ropes of cum onto your stomach. He can feel the evidence of your orgasm dribbling out of your leaking pussy and pooling on his thighs.

“Fuck you’re so messy…” He drawls as a wrack of pleasure shoots down his spine.

-

The two of you lay in your mess, dozing in and out of sleep until you eventually grow uncomfortable, your mixed cum beginning to dry on both of yours’ body. Zoro doesn’t seem to mind in the least, his muscled arms wrapped tightly around your body, keeping you trapped as he snores softly.

“…Zoro.” You huff, tapping his cheek.

No response.

“Zoro.”

Nothing.

“Zoro!”

You smack his cheek, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to catch his attention. His eyes shoot open, searching the dark room for the cause of your yelling. “Hell’s your problem, woman?” He scoffs, raising a hand to his face and wiping sleep from his eyes.

“I feel gross. Let’s shower.”

“I don’t need a shower, I’ll wipe myself off with a towel or something.”

“God, you’re gross.” Sitting up on Zoro’s chest, you glare down at him. “Come on, just keep me company at least.”

“How about you ask the guy you were dancing with to shower with you.” Zoro grumbles, turning his head to the side to avoid your annoyed gaze.

“You’re still mad about that? You’re so stupid. Dancing doesn’t always have to be romantic.”

Zoro scowls at your insult, “You’re the stupid one, that guy’s dick was practically waving in the wind and begging for a hug when you asked to dance with him.”

“Oh shut up. I’m sorry, okay? I’ll never dance with anyone else ever again.” You tease, crossing your arms over your chest. Zoro’s gaze lazily slides to where your tits are being pushed up and squished together and his scowl slowly melts into a smirk.

You glare at his expression, but there’s no real heat behind it, that hungry look in his eyes has returned, his nap seemingly replenishing his energy. Perhaps there was only one way to get him clean.

“Shower sex?”

“Deal.”

~

Sanji- Missionary

Let’s be lowkey, Sanji’s default vanilla

He does NOT pull bc he’s such a freak, and when he finally gets together with you, he’s definitely clueless. He’s gotten all of his knowledge of intimacy from romance books and poems for sure

He’ll go along with anything you want, but his go to will always be good old missionary

He likes to see your face, to know that he’s making you feel good, but most importantly, he wants you to look into his eyes and see the undying devotion he has to you

He’s SO talkative, literal yapaholic in bed

He likes being able to lean in and let your soft moans and whispers fill his ear as he rocks gently against you, soft praises tumbling past his lips as his arms hug you tight against him

He's constantly searching for reassurance and praise, he wants you to tell him that he’s doing great, that he’s making you feel good. And in return he’ll whisper the sweetest nothings in your ear as he eases you through your orgasm.

He absolutely adores the feeling of your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your face burrowed against his neck. He can cum just from feeling your bare legs lock around his waist, and it’s happened numerous times before.

Sanji would never admit it, because it’s a little perverted, and Sanji is definitely NOT perverted, never ever forever, but he also loves missionary because he can feel your breasts squished against his chest. He loves sliding a hand down and caressing and kissing the fat, never pinching or biting, as he wouldn’t want to bruise your pretty skin.

~

“Are you ready for me, love?” Sanji murmurs, his fingers continuing to pump in and out of your leaking pussy, your first orgasm of the night steadily dribbling over Sanji’s wrist.

You give a small nod, grabbing for your lover’s wrist and intertwining your fingers with his shiny, slick, ones. Sanji ducks his head down, kissing your knuckles and lapping up a mix of your cum and arousal. “Please, Sanji… need you.”

He could cum just from your words alone, but instead he gives a mute nod and leans back on his haunches. Sanji stares down at you with bated breath as he massages your thighs with deft fingers. “God… you’re beautiful. I’m gonna make you feel good… I promise… I promise…”

Grabbing your hip with one hand while the other guides his flushed cock to run along your slit. The cook’s breath trembles just slightly and he has to bow his head, his eyes squeezing shut tightly, “I could never get tired of you… you make me feel things that I’ve never felt before… I need you…”

“Sanji…”

Sanji knows that tone, you’re getting impatient. He gives an apologizing murmur, his face flushed in slight embarrassment as he finally rocks forwards, stopping once he’s half way in, his cock easing you open and stretching you perfectly. “You’re so perfect… I love you… I couldn’t live without your touch… You feel so good… so so good… please.”

You love Sanji with every bone in your body, but during sex, he could get a little preoccupied with praising your body that he nearly forgets he’s inside of you somehow. With a soft laugh, you cup his face with your hands and tug him down to your mouth, your tongue darting out to run along his bottom lip, “Shhh, Sanji. I know. Just feel me, yeah?”

Closing his eyes with a shudder, Sanji melts against your mouth, his chest pressing down against yours as he begins to rock his hips into you with slow, firm, thrusts. “…Sorry… y’ feel good…” He mumbles against your lips, his words muffled as he speaks into your mouth.

You go to respond, but instead, a soft moan is torn from your lips, eliciting a shiver to travel down Sanji’s spine. His mouth begins to wander, as it always does when he’s inside of you, and he trails soft, ghosts of kisses across your jaw and down your neck. “I love you… you complete me… y’ make me… ngh… so, so happy-“

Sanji is never one to be aggressive during sex, he’d obviously comply if you asked him to, but he prefers soft, firm movements as he rocks against your pretty, puffy pussy. He wants to make love to you, make you feel beautiful and wanted.

“Sanji… you feel so good… faster?” You murmur softly, your back arching against his so perfectly as you gasp and coo against his ear.

Sanji very nearly whimpers at your soft question, your voice just too pretty, too sweet, to be asking anything of him. You were an angel, perfection incarnate, and Sanji would be a fool to deny you anything.

“Of course… legs around my waist, love, wanna feel you hold onto me.” Sanji purrs, licking the shell of your ear, eliciting a delectable squeak from your lips. Your ankles easily hook around the curve of Sanji’s spine, your thighs squishing against his hips and causing a weak groan to sound from Sanji’s throat.

You can feel Sanji’s stomach tensing as he moves, sliding his cock out to the tip before snapping his hips forward, making your eyes roll and your back to arch as if offering yourself to the heavens.

The bed creaks beneath your body as your toes curl, your hips rolling to meet Sanji’s movements. “Good?” Sanji murmurs, his stubble tickling and scratching your collarbone as he slides his lips across your shoulder.

“…yeah. It’s good-“ You gasp, twisting beneath Sanji’s hands. Sweat dots at your forehead and you can feel your orgasm approaching, glancing at Sanji, you know he’s not far behind.

Sanji grimaces, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before they quickly dance away to watch himself piston in and out of your wet pussy, he listens to the squelches of your body as it practically begs for him. Sanji shudders at the sound, his shoulders bunching up as he listens to your body.

Everything about you is perfect in Sanji’s eyes. You could gut him like a fish and he would thank you before preparing himself into a dish for you to eat. You hold Sanji’s heart in your hands and he trusts you completely, knowing that you’d never break it.

“Damn it, angel.” Sanji hisses, running his hand down through his hair before catching your lips in a passionate kiss. “Please cum. Please, please. I wanna see you cum, angel. Wanna feel it- feel you.”

God, you can’t believe what Sanji’s words do to you. You bury your face again his neck as your hips buck up against him, searching for your release, “Come on…” You mumble impatiently, your face twisted; your nose scrunched and your brows furrowed.

Sanji leans forward, pressing feather-soft kisses to your furrowed brow and scrunched nose. His hand slides down your navel and lower, rubbing firm circles against your clit. His other arm wraps around your neck, tucking you firmly against his chest as his fingers splay across the back of your head. Sanji’s pace begins to stutter, shuddering breaths escaping his lips.

You writhe so sweetly against him, your heels digging into the small of his back. He watches with rapt attention as your orgasm washes through you, reveling in the feel of your nails digging into his shoulders. Sanji feels as though he’s staring at an angel as your lips part, your lashes fluttering and your throat bobbing.

Sanji very nearly cums inside of you, too enraptured with the sounds and sensations he’s caused you to make. You’re mid orgasm when Sanji suddenly pulls out, his eyes widening and his breath catching in his throat in a panic as he coats your stomach with sticky cum.

Normally Sanji would never cum on you. As much as he absolutely adored the sight, something about it made him feel strange, as if he were defiling a priceless artifact. Usually, he would use a condom, or jerk himself off into his hand… or your panties on special occasions- your hand on really special occasions.

“Shit- sorry, sorry, angel.” Sanji groans, his face going beet red. He pulls back to sit on his haunches as he gnaws on his bottom lip. His eyes are glued to the sight of you covered not only in your own cum, but his as well. It makes his heart pound faster.

You hold a finger up, needing a moment to catch your breath, your thighs twitching from the pleasure. Finally you open your eyes and look up at him with a sweet smile. Catching his embarrassed face, you quickly think of ways to reassure him.

Your lip quirks as an idea comes to mind.

Sliding your index and middle finger across your navel, gathering up Sanji’s mess, your fingers swirling as if painting a canvas. Sanji watches with rapt attention, struggling to keep his eyes from rolling back as you bring your fingers to your lips and slowly lick up his cum.

You let out loud exaggerated coos as you suck on your fingers, your gaze focused on your sweet lover. His eyebrow twitches, and he sniffs, pinching the bridge of his nose with a groan.

“You taste as good as your food, baby.” You hum, your fingers pulling away with a pop.

~

Ace: Against The Wall

Ace is a straight up show off

He loves to throw his weight around, and casually display his strength as if it were normal

Another thing about Ace is that he’s impatient. He wants what he wants and he’ll take it as soon as possible

That doesn’t change during sex. Ace loves picking you up and throwing you around, his hands exploring your body as he shoves you against a wall. At first it’s simply because he was too lazy and impatient to make his way to a bed, he’d simply drag you into a spare closet or pin you against a door

But he soon realized that he preferred a good old wall instead of a bed. He likes the way you giggle when he hoists you up, your thighs wrapping around his waist (or in some cases his face), he loves the way you cling to him after you cum, too weak to hold yourself up and relying on Ace to keep you from falling

Sometimes Ace likes to pretend his legs give out, he likes the adorable look of panic on your face before Ace quickly snaps his hips up, adjusting your weight and burying himself deeper inside of your walls, gravity helping to sheath himself deeper inside of you

You stopped letting Ace eat you out against the wall after a situation during a storm. A violent wave sent the ship rocking and Ace had gone careening backwards, falling straight on his back… with you still on top of him. It was a horrible experience as the two of you had made your way to the infirmary, Ace happily holding his two missing teeth in his hands as you waddled, a wound on the inside of your thigh that suspiciously looked like a bite mark.

-

You haven’t seen Ace in weeks. He’s been on some excursion, fighting some bigshot or another. He hasn’t left your mind in the time he’s been gone. You thought of him while cooking, while fighting, damn it all, you even thought of him while cleaning the toilets. Ace is your other half, and it’s like you can physically feel it when he’s apart. When you can’t hear his laugh or feel his touch. It hurts.

But that doesn’t matter anymore because Ace is back.

The ship has been a flurry of activity the whole morning, preparing his welcome back feast. Technically, Ace had arrived back home yesterday in the middle of the night but he’d spent most of his time in the infirmary before passing out from exhaustion. Marco’s the only one who’s seen him. Ace hadn’t bothered to say hi to anyone, too tired to think of anything but sleep.

But now was the time to celebrate the return of the Fire Fist.

You’re rummaging through yet another closet, Marco having asked you to search for tablecloths. But for some reason you can’t seem to find them anywhere.

If you’re being honest, you’d prefer if there wasn’t any sort of party, you’d much rather have a quiet day with Ace, just him and you. But you suppose that’s selfish, the rest of the crew want to see the safe return of their crew mate just as much as you do.

Just as you’re about to give up on what you think is the fifth closet, your eyes catch on a hint of fabric poking out from the bottom shelf.

With an annoyed gruff, you brace your hands on the wall and hoist yourself up, standing on the bottom ledge and praying it doesn’t snap under your weight as you stretch your arm out, your fingers just barely brushing against the cloth.

Just as you manage to hook your finger in a fold, you hear the familiar squeak of the closet swinging shut. A curse escapes your lips as you twist around in an attempt to reach for the door, but in the process, your foot slips and you go tumbling towards the floor.

You yelp, bracing yourself for the pain that’s sure to follow, but it never comes. Instead you feel a pair of arms wrap wrapping around your chest, tugging you backwards away from the shelf. Hold on… those arms… they feel a bit too familiar.

“Clumsy girl.” Ace muses with a chuckle, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek and tightening his hold around you, “Y’miss me?”

Spinning around, a grin already on your face, you meet the familiar eyes of one Portgas D. Ace. His silhouette just barely visible in the dim light of the closet. Adrenaline still pounds at your chest, but it’s mixed with excitement as you wrap your arms around Ace’s neck. “You scared me.” You scoff, a playful pout on your lips as you tug him down for a light kiss.

You’re expecting some banter in return, but instead; Ace lets out a groan as if he hadn’t drunken water in weeks and you are the sweetest of nectar. Suddenly his hands are slipping up your shirt to press against your abdomen, walking you backwards against the shelf as his mouth practically devours yours.

“Jump.” Ace pants softly, hooking his hands beneath your thighs.

-

Ace is thrusting into you with reckless abandon, the shelves creaking and groaning with your weight as the ledges dig into your back. Mouthing at your throat, Ace coos quietly, “Missed you so, so much, pretty girl. Yeah? You miss me too? You’re sucking me in right now.”

His hands devour your body, his fingertips warm to the touch as he pushes your shirt up around your neck. Ace pulls back for a moment to watch your tits bounce with thrust. His freckles glow faintly as he licks his lips.

Your quiet coos and moans surround Ace, your eyes kept focused on the door as if physically willing any crewmates from walking in on the two of you. You distantly pray that they can’t hear the sound of Ace’s skin slapping against yours.

But Ace is decidedly not trying to be quiet.

If anything, he’s louder than normal. A stupid grin on his face as he lets out low groans and cries of passion as if he’s in some cheap porno. You scowl at him, your stomach flipping as Ace brushes against your g spot. “Quiet!” You hiss, your scowl broken by a sweet gasp as Ace drives his hips up while tugging yours down.

Ace grins madly, throwing his head back and letting out a long, loud moan. “God… I missed you so much…” He cries out, grabbing the shelves and shaking them, objects wobbling and clattering together, “I can’t believe I’ve gone so long without your pretty body… your pretty little pus-“

You grab the back of his neck, a scowl on your face as you tug him into a deep kiss. Ace chuckles against your mouth, your lips finally managing to shut him up for once. You grab his hand, prying his fingers off of the shelf and guiding his palm to cover your breast.

“…missed you.” Ace finally murmurs against your lips, his voice much softer as he rolls your nipple between his fingers, his hand massaging the underside of your tit.

“Shit- Ace… missed y-“ You’re barely able to get your words out before Ace is slapping a palm over your mouth, pausing in his movements and bracing his knee against the shelf to hold you up as he reaches behind him to grab the doorknob. Your brows furrow in confusion, you hadn’t heard anything, but a few moments later you hear the sound of a pair of footsteps making their way down the hall.

Ace grins wildly, holding a finger to his lips. You know that mischievous look on his face. Shaking your head, you glare at Ace, already knowing what he’s planning. He quirks his head, pouting his lip in a false questioning look.

There are voices outside the door, some dumbasses chose this particular hallway to have some stupid conversation while you’re getting fucked balls deep only feet away.

Adjusting his stance, Ace grab your hips and begins to move once again, careful not to let his skin slap against yours. Biting his lip, Ace grins at your annoyance, using his freehand to massage your thigh while the other keeps its hold on the door.

You can feel him pulsing inside of yours, his tip ramming against your g spot with each thrust. It feels good. Too good.

Bringing your hand to your mouth, you bite down, your breath shuddering. Ace guides your head down against his shoulder, pressing featherlight kisses to your ear.

“Come on… good job being quiet, baby.” Ace whispers softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. His words are sweet and smooth, each thrust sending your heart beating out of its cage. “Gonna cum when there’s people right outside? I swear you’ve been gripping me even tighter since they showed up.”

Your hand moves away from your mouth to grip at Ace’s shoulder, your face is pressed firmly to his neck as your thighs begin to tremble from the strain of keeping quiet.

“Ace…” You groan, your words muffled as you grind your hips down against Ace, your clit bumping against his navel with each buck of your hips.

“You know I love your voice, but you gotta keep quiet.” Ace murmurs, “Can you be quiet, or do I gotta stop?”

With a firm shake of your head, your thighs tighten around Ace’s waist. You’re so close, you think you might actually start crying.

-

It feels like an eternity as you wait for whoever’s outside to leave, Ace continuing his steady thrusts into your wet pussy. He whispers quietly to you, his lips brushing against your ear as his filthy words flood your brain.

But finally, the sound of voices fades and you nearly sob in relief. “Faster.” You snap impatiently, too frustrated to try and be cute.

Throwing his head back, Ace lets out a laugh, “Yeah… yeah I can do that.”

Your brain positively melts as Ace bucks his hips into you with reckless abandon, each roll of his body causing his cock to drive straight against your g spot.

Shuddering moans and cries fill the closet as you writhe in Ace’s arms, squirming as you chase after your orgasm.

“You gonna cum, pretty girl? Yeah… me too.” Ace pants, “So you better make it quick before I accidentally cum inside.”

You click your tongue at his teasing but you can’t deny the excitement at the thought of Ace cumming inside of you. Fucking his seed up into your cunt and putting a pretty baby in your stomach. You know that Ace has… difficulties with the idea of fathers, but you can’t help but think he would be a great one.

Before you know it, you’re thrown into an orgasm, your back arching as you throw your head back. Ace just barely manages to cup the back of your head in time, stopping you from bashing yourself against the shelves and probably giving yourself a concussion.

Your thighs tense and your whimper, pawing at Ace’s chest as you slam your hips down against Ace, chasing after your orgasm.

Ace curses, turning his head to the side at the sight of your pretty face. Your cheeks are puffed out adorably, your lips pursed and your brow furrowed in concentration. Glancing down, his eyes catch on the small flame that had burst on his foot. Ace flushes in embarrassment, stomping it out.

Ace hauls you off of him, holding you up against the wall as he pulls out, your pussy tries to cling to his cock, and it practically breaks Ace’s heart. With a grunt, he cums over his hand, careful not to get any of his mess on your clothes.

“I want…” Ace pants, stooping down to grab his boxers and wipe off his sticky palm, “I want you to go to the bedroom… I’ll meet you in about fifteen minutes, ‘kay?”

He lowers you to the floor, pinching your shaking thighs playfully, “You’ll make it there alright?” He teases, wiping up any evidence of orgasm with his underwear before tugging your pants back on. Ace goes about fixing your clothes, buttoning your shirt, zipping your pants and fixing your mussed hair.

Once he thinks you look presentable enough, he quickly tugs his own pants back on, throwing his boxers to a corner and silently promising to grab them later (he won’t).

Pressing a kiss to your cheek, Ace opens the door and shoves you out with a smack on the ass, “See you soon, sweetheart,” He coos, walking in the opposite direction. He sends you a stupid wink before turning the corner.

~

Kidd: BACKSHOTS!!!!

BACKSHOTSBACKSHOTSBACKSHOTS FACE DOWN, ASS UP, THATS THE WAY WE LIKE TO FUCK!!!

Guys I may or may not love backshots as much as I love Kidd

Kidd loves every position as long as he’s able to see your body jiggle and move. He especially loves hitting it from the back in any way; doggy, prone bone, face buried in the pillows and your hips wiggling around, throwing your ass back against him like the needy thing you are

He’ll bend you over anything, a desk, a bed, the railing. Hell, if you’re flexible enough, he’ll make you bend down and touch your toes while he plows your shit

One of his favorite things to do is make you grab your ass and present your pussy to him, showing off the way you drip and leak for his fat cock

Kidd uses any jewelry you have to his advantages. Bracelets? He’s forcing your hands above your head while you practically suffocate in his pillows. Anklets? He’s tugging your legs apart until you’re nearly doing the splits as he bullies his dick into your tiny cunt. But his absolute favorite piece of jewelry that you wear are waist beads.

Even if you’re completely and utterly exhausted, too tired to move or even cry anymore. He’ll take control of your waist beads and force you to keep throwing your ass back against him, the fat jiggling and practically begging for him to slap and fondle

Let’s be honest, Kidd’s fucking feral. He licks and bites his way down your spine, leaving a path of red kisses in its path. By the time he’s done with you, you’re absolutely covered in Kidd’s lipstick. Red pigment smeared down your spine and across your face.

~ Metal clatters against the ground as your body is roughly shoved down against the cool metal of Kidd’s work table. Your bikini top has been haphazardly tugged up around your neck, the strings all tangled, showing off your pretty tan lines. Your skin tingles from the temperature as you lift your head to look behind you. Kidd grins wolfishly at your lustful gaze as he toys with the strings of your bikini bottoms.

Kidd isn’t quite sure what’s come over him, he’s seen you in a bikini hundreds of times before. Damn it, he’s seen you naked even more. But the sight of you lounging on the deck of his ship, your skin shiny from tanning had made his heart jump to his throat. You had been sleeping on your stomach, the slope of your spine and the curve of your ass on full display for the crew to see.

He had been working in his workshop when he had caught a glance of you through the window, your tits squished against the floor and your lips pouted slightly in sleep. Kidd hadn’t even realized what he was doing before he was activating his devil fruit powers, latching onto the silver bracelet he’d bought for you last month and tugging. You awoke to your hand being dragged by a seemingly invisible string. You were bleary from sleep but you already knew what was going on.

Your captain was waiting for you.

And that’s how you’d been practically dragged to the workshop, your feet stumbling over steps and nearly sending you crashing into the railing. The crew snickered and whistled at the sight of your hand being dragged by an unseen force. They knew exactly what Kidd wanted.

You’re barely able to get the door to the workshop open before Kidd is grabbing the back of your neck and tugging you into a bruising kiss. His hips rutting against your thigh as he drags you towards his desk, haphazardly sweeping his hand and sending his little ‘projects’ (deadly weapons) flying. Sliding a hand to your shoulder, he slams you down against the table, hoisting your hips up onto the surface so that your toes just barely graze the ground.

“You’re lucky I didn’t go out there and fuck you in front of the whole crew.” Kidd snarls, his hand groping your ass, his touch rough enough to make you flinch as he swats your thigh. Your hips jolt, your body jerking against the table as a sharp keen escapes your lips. “Maybe I should make an announcement, huh? Call everyone in here and make ‘em watch you cream my cock like the slut you are. How’s that sound?”

He chuckles, reaching down to poke and prod your hole through the bikini bottom, pinching your clit and rolling the nub between his fingers, watching the fabric grow damp with your arousal as your feet twitch. You twist around to look at him, your thighs clenching at the sight of your lover; he’s practically drooling at the sight of you laid out across the table. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he kicks your legs apart, stepping forward and rutting himself against your clothed pussy, earning a gasp from your lips.

“What’s got you all worked up?” You tease, rolling your ass back against Kidd’s raging hard on. Even through his clothing, you can feel that one prominent vein on his cock that never fails to drag you into orgasm. Arching your back, you wiggle your hips in the way that makes Kidd’s eyes roll back as he attempt to hold himself back from fucking you hard and deep right now.

Kidd snarls, his eyes locked onto your ass as if entranced. In one swift movement, he tugs the string of your bikini, the fabric falling to the side to give your captain a wonderful view of your messy cunt and puckered asshole. “Tch. Show me.”

This was Kidd being nice, giving you a few moments to prepare yourself, because there are many things that your captain is, but patient is definitely not one of them. When Kidd had first asked you to expose your weeping hole to him, you had been an embarrassed, blubbering mess. Arguing and telling him that it was weird.

But that was then, and now it was like second nature as you ease a knee onto the table and reach your hand behind you, sliding your pointer and middle finger between your dripping folds and sliding them apart to reveal your pulsing hole to Kidd, arousal steadily dribbling out of your cunt and over your skin. Sliding your digits inside, Kidd watches with rapt attention as you scissor your fingers, preparing your tight pussy for Kidd’s above average cock. More slick drips down your wrist as your ass shakes, your knee jerking and your head dropping down against the table.

With a growl, Kidd unbuttons his pants and you can hear his fat cock slap against his abdomen as he watches your fingers eagerly “Whaddya need, baby?” He croons, his voice sickening sweet as he wraps a hand around your hair and tugs your head back up. Hoisting your back against his chest, Kidd licks up into your mouth, biting your lip and stealing the breath from your lungs. His other hand travels up your navel, across your stomach before grasping the fat of your breast, tugging and twisting. It’s painful, his fingers pinching and flicking your areola as if it were a toy, making you squeak and squirm against him. Yet your hand continues to work at your pussy, it’s better for both of you if your cunt is plenty stretched by the time Kidd enters you. Once Kidd loses his patience, there’s not much that you can do to stop his from entering you.

You try to respond, your chest fluttering as you try and fail to catch your breath. Kidd’s mouth chasing yours every time you try and pull away. “Mph- Kidd… can’t-“

It’s not until you fear that you might actually pass out, black spots dancing in your vision, that Kidd finally pulls away. Lipstick and saliva smeared across his lower face, and most likely yours as well. “I said, whaddya need?”

You pant, tears dotting your lashes as Kidd finally releases his bruising hold on your tit, his hand sliding to your shoulder and shoving you back down against the table. “Fuck… fuck me, Kidd… shit.”

Kidd catches your wrist, stopping your hand from continuing its ministrations against your pussy, before slamming it down by your face, your eyes linger on the sight of your shiny fingers, strings of arousal coating your skin. Without a moments hesitation, Kidd aligns his twitching length with your entrance and bottoms out inside of you. One moment he’s outside of you, and the next he’s balls deep, his tip very nearly kissing your cervix.

A mix between a relieved groan and a chuckle fills your ears as you let out a ragged cry of pleasure, a sharp jolt of pain coursing up your spine before it melts away into a blissful throb. Your back arches and your hips jerk back against Kidd as he massages your ass, his attempt at comfort. Slowly dragging his cock back, the ridges of his vein catches on your ring of muscle and you shudder, a soft coo sounding from your mouth. Kidd pulls back until his tip is just barely lingering inside of you, his gaze focused on the sight of your pussy all stretched out around him, your arousal coating his cock and dripping down his balls.

You shimmy your hips enticingly, whining with need and impatience as you look at him from over your shoulder, “Come on. Hurry up.” You huff, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and pouted lips.

Scowling at your order, Kidd scoffs and rolls his eyes, but the sight of your pretty face makes his heart jump, he secretly loves it when you’re bossy, “Yeah, yeah. You always say that shit and then cry and beg me to slow down a few minutes later. You’re annoying you know that?”

You open your mouth to shoot back an equally sharp retort, but all that comes out is a choked cry as Kidd’s hands move to grip your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh as he hauls your ass back against him, beginning his punishing pace.

Your core aches with each brutal thrust. It’s painful, the pleasure coursing through your body just enough to make it worth it. Or maybe the pain is what making it feel so good? You’re not quite sure that it even matters.

“Fuck, you love it when I treat you like this. You probably couldn’t even cum if I’m not at least a li’l mean, huh?” Kidd teases, his teeth baring as he ducks his head down. Starting at the small of your back, his mouth attaches to your skin, sucking and biting and licking his way up the curve of your spine, leaving a mess of saliva, bruises and lipstick stains in his wake. You taste of sun tan lotion, coconut oil, and sweat. It’s making Kidd’s knees buckle with how good you feel on his tongue.

“You talk… way too much…” You bite out, dropping your head in your arms as your eyes squeeze shut, your head buzzing with pleasure.

“Good thing my teeth are as sharp as my tongue.” Kidd snarls, biting down on your shoulder. His canines dig into your skin as he feasts on your pretty figure. As if to punctuate his point, Kidd thrusts into you, purposefully pressing his tip to your cervix and making you keen in a mix of pain and pleasure.

Stars dance in your vision as you very nearly wail, your body writhing on the table in your attempt to wiggle away. It’s in vain as Kidd grabs your hips and drags you back. “See? I ain’t all talk.”

Kidd snakes a hand around your front, his fingers digging into your abdomen as if searching, “I can feel myself right… here.” Kidd sounds triumphant as he massages the slight bulge. He groans as he presses down, your gummy walls closing in around him as he resumes his thrusts. “Maybe I should put a baby up there one day, how’s that sound, babe?”

You bite your lip, unable to respond anymore for fear that you might let out a sob. Tears dot your lash line, your face splotchy and your breath shuddering. Each rock of Kidd’s hips send electricity up your spine. “I-“

Kidd cocks his head, leaning forward to peer at your face. He grins rakishly, wrestling you into a chokehold and brushing your hair past your ear. He presses a kiss to your cheek, “Are you gonna cry? Go ahead, you know I don’t mind.” Kidd grunts, snapping his hips. He’s close, both of you can tell, he’s struggling to keep his rhythm, his hips stuttering every few moments.

“‘m not… gonna cry.” You choke out, the metal beneath the two of you has grown slick with sweat and condensation. Each time Kidd thrusts his cock into you, there’s a squeak as your skin rubs against the table. You can’t help but giggle at the stupid sound, your cheek pressed against Kidd’s bicep as your eyes roll back.

“God, you’re so sweaty. What’s your problem?” Kidd gruffs, but you can hear the hint of endearment in his voice. “Just cum already, yeah?”

You turn your head, your tongue lolling out in search for Kidd’s mouth. Grinning at your fucked out expression, Kidd eagerly accepts your tongue into his mouth.

You bite down on Kidd’s lip as your orgasm washes over you like a wave. Your entire body jerking and twitching as your hips chase after Kidd’s cock, sucking him in deeper and deeper.

Kidd watches with bated breath as tears slip down your cheeks, your cries and moans quickly swallowed by his eager mouth. He continues to thrust impatiently into your creamy pussy, dragging you through your orgasm while chasing after his own.

Your cum creates a foamy ring around the base of Kidd’s cock. His face burning, Kidd allows you to kiss him one final time before he pulls back, blood coating his bottom lip from how hard your teeth had dug in.

You feel empty as Kidd finally drags his dick out of your cunt, your hole pulsing with his absence. Kidd grunts in annoyance as he jerks himself off, his bicep flexing around your throat as his own orgasm washes through him, his cum painting your back.

“I’m gonna cum in your pretty pussy one day, and it’s gonna be the best day of our fucking lives, I promise.” Kidd grunts, releasing his hold on you and running a hand through his hair. He steps back from between your legs, admiring the view of your body on display for him to see.

The lipstick marks on your back are partially covered by his cum, oil and sweat still lingering on your skin as bruises form on your ass. Your thighs tremble, your fluids coating your folds and dripping down onto the table.

-

You wake up in Kidd’s arms, your body aching as you lounge across his lap, your nose nestled against his neck. He’s toying absentmindedly, one hand tinkering with a small trinket (bomb), while the other massages your thigh.

Your body feels as though it’s been through the wringer, your thighs aching and your core throbbing. There are bruises on your hips from the table repeatedly digging into your skin.

“Hi.” Kidd grunts, barely soaring you a glance.

“…Hi.” You croak, clearing your throat as you sit up to peer at Kidd’s little invention. You smooth a hand through your hair, groaning as your hands run down your face.

“I told you you’d cry.”

[this-blog-needs-a-name]

One Piece Fic Recs

This is a list of incredible One Piece fanfics I have read either on Tumblr or Ao3 the majority of which are character x reader/oc.

📝 Ongoing/Unfinished

Long Works (>25,000 words)

It Comes in Waves by analogwriting Trafalgar Law x f!reader (71k)

The Bird & The Mermaid (Trafalgar Law x F!Reader) by BlackOrchid1004 (40k)

Small Changes by SweetScentences Platonic Law and Corazon fix it (37k)

The Daughter's Return by @cozage Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (126k)

Birds of a Feather by flyingfishgirl Marco the Phoenix x f!reader (74k)

Inked on Skin by Archaeological / @tackyink Trafalgar Law x OFC (385k)

📝 Home of the Sun by Nahella Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (167k)

📝 Free (Trafalgar Law/Reader) by ElenaMoon (153k)

📝 Throne by teroinreadsteroinwrites Shanks x OFC (41k)

📝 This is Us by Anonymous Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (90k)

📝 Card-Sharp by VintagexTypewriter Shanks x OFC (90k)

📝 Home Is Where the Hearts Are by brouhahas Trafalgar Law x f!reader (37k)

📝 Rare Whales, Shining Seas, and the One That Dreams of Them by NunTheWiser Platonic Whitebeard Pirates, Platonic Heart Pirates x OFC (339k)

📝 Bound by Silver by ToastedMilkBar Corazon x f!reader (46k)

📝 Immune To Your Charms by @grandline-fics Donquixote Doflamingo x f!reader (26k)

📝 Chaos in Their Bones by @eureka-its-zico OPLA Zoro x f!reader (148k)

📝 Determination! by @thesharktanksdriver Platonic multiple characters/crews x child!reader (69k)

Puzzled by @mynewblackdress OPLA Sanji x f!reader (35k)

Medium Works (10,000-24,999 words)

Epiphytism by Jarchetype Dracule Mihawk x f!reader (23k)

Little Blue Bird by MidNightWriter42 Marco the Phoenix x f!reader (12k)

📝 Affiliation by maybeitsdee Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (23k)

📝 The Beast and the Mouse by @simpleeindulge Eustass Kid x f!reader (12k)

📝 Little Game by @gingernut1314 Dracule Mihawk x f!reader (16k)

the blade daughter by @halfvalid OPLA Zoro x f!reader, Dracule Mihawk x daughter!reader (24k)

You Should Be Sad by @fanaticsnail Dracule Mihawk x f!reader (14k)

put my name at the top of your list by @ladadiida Sanji x f!reader (12k)

Through Shadow by @gingernut1314 OPLA Sanji x f!reader (10k)

Your Highness by @nanawritesit OPLA Sanji x f!reader (13k)

Come Sail Away by @sassenach-on-the-rocks OPLA Sanji x f!reader, OPLA Zoro x sister!reader (15k)

📝 Stowaway by @spitfire-of-the-sea Platonic Whitebeard Pirates x f!reader (10k)

[dragonanon]

Okay, but please consider being a Zoan Cat user and accidentally getting “adopted” by a pirate crew after being mistaken for a regular ass cat. You honestly thought they knew you were a human at first, and by the time you realized they didn’t, it had been long enough that revealing yourself would’ve been awkward af, and you were then curious about how long it would take them to figure you out. So instead you stfu and be a relatively good lil’ ship cat.

You get free food, plenty of comfy places to nap in, and lots of scritches and attention from big men who’re surprisingly giddy to have a tiny cat on board. Why on Earth would you want to ruin that??

You get away with it for months. And the ONLY reason you get caught is because someone does something so unbelievably dumb that you absentmindedly say out loud “Damn, we’re really reaching new levels of stupid here.” You could hear a mouse fart in stunned silence that followed as you realize your inside thought did NOT stay inside, and now you want nothing more than to just disappear into the floor.

Shockingly enough, you’re forgiven and continue on as the ship cat; except now you can properly converse and interact with everyone. HOWEVER you’re still subjected to being picked up and held out towards everyone like Simba whenever you’re fully transformed into a cat lmfao

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Breaking Point Chapter 2

Prev / Next

Whitebeard Pirates x Teen GN Reader

4.9k words

Summary: You awake on an enemy ship after failing to evade them the day before. Your mind is heavy with what is to come, and the actions of the people you know to be your enemies only serves to confuse you further. What have you gotten yourself into?

Warnings: suicidal ideation, mentions of previous suicide attempt, brief descriptions of past child abuse, dehumanization, burns, drugging, being unable to move, unhealthy relationship with food

“S-S-Sir!”

Akainu whipped around to face the marine that dared to intrude upon him. He is able to keep his magma from pouring out, but just barely. “What?! Spit it out! I don't have time to be listening to you trip over your own damn words!”

The pathetic excuse for a marine stumbles back, looking like he's on the verge of pissing himself. Why people like this joined the Marines was beyond Akainu’s understanding. Just as he was considering terminating him permanently, the whelp finally finds his words, “W-We got word that the Whitebeard pirates have picked up the medicine, sir!”

“Have there been any communications from them since the last?”

“No, sir!”

The lack of communication from them was grating on his nerves. He assumed this meant that the original plan was still on, but he would prefer confirmation. He needed to see that you were still alive. Akainu releases a sigh that teeters on being a growl, then waves off the marine, “Understood. Now get out of my sight.”

Fortunately, the marine didn't need to be told twice and promptly made himself scarce. Akainu isn't sure that he would have been able to control his temper if he hadn't left. 

It could not accurately be put into words how much Akainu hated everything about this situation. The fact that a bunch of pirates got their filthy hands on his child was bad enough; that already had his blood boiling. But what was really eating away at him was what he saw in the communication feed that had come through.

Since it was of a visual nature, he could see that this wasn't a bluff. They had you in their custody. There was a horrifying moment in the beginning when he thought they were showing him your corpse. The only reason the Marine base wasn't a molten wasteland was because he saw you blink. From there, he was able to also pick up on the steady rise and fall of your chest as you laid chained to some medical gurney by one of your wrists. Sea stone cuffs, surely. 

The look in your eyes was haunting him. They were completely lifeless. As the pirate, Marco, gave their terms, all you did was stare blankly ahead at nothing. He doubted you were even cognizant of the fact that you were being recorded. 

It was clear to him that those pirates had drugged you. That was the only way to explain why you were just laying there instead of fighting. You had never been the type to give up so easily.

Now it was down to a waiting game. The pirates adamantly refused to hand you over before the medicine was on their ship. He fought hard against these terms, but he ultimately had to yield. They had the more valuable bargaining chip, and they knew it. Sure, it was most convenient to get the medicine in bulk now, but it didn't appear to be particularly urgent. They could find more elsewhere at a later date, but Akainu couldn't do the same. If they killed you, that was it. He was backed into a corner, and he was loathing every second of it. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat comes from behind him. It would have made his temper flare even more had he not recognized it. He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves- as much as they could be- and turns to face the Fleet Admiral properly.

For a moment, Sengoku just stares at him with his usual frown. He then sighs and shakes his head, “Of all the people I expected to make a deal with pirates behind my back, you most certainly didn’t make the list.”

That made Akainu’s eyebrow twitch, and his teeth grind down on the cigar in his mouth, “Do you think I’m happy about this?”

Sengoku was undeterred by his subordinate’s behavior. “I never said you had to be, but accepting those terms on your own was out of line.”

“Time was of the essence, I couldn’t afford to wait for you to get here when my child is actively in a hostage situation.” His temper is already rising despite previous attempts to calm it.

The next sentence out of his superior's mouth only fanned the smoldering flame. “A hostage situation that they got themselves into, need I remind you.”

For a moment, he's too stunned to speak. When he finds his voice, the words are forced out through clenched teeth, “Do you want to run that by me again?”

“I know you aren't stupid, Akainu. You and I both know that (Y/N) was nowhere near where they were supposed to be.”

The vein on his forehead feels like it's about to explode. “What are you implying?”

“Do you really need me to spell it out for you? Are you that blind?” Sengoku pinches the bridge of his nose and heaves a sigh, “That kid has never wanted to be a marine. You know that at least, right?”

That did it. A fiery hole was punched into a nearby wall as what was left of his short fuse burnt away to nothing. “Bullshit! (Y/N) has given everything to the Marines!”

“What they've given is irrelevant to the point. It doesn't matter if they give their all to something if they didn't actually want to in the first place.” Sengoku meets Akainu's furious gaze with one of annoyance, “The point is that they did precisely what I expected them to do.”

The anger cools and is replaced by genuine confusion. “What?” Akainu squints his eyes and steps closer, “Did you plan for this to happen?”

“Not exactly. The Whitebeard's were a wildcard, admittedly.” Sengoku walks past Akainu and stares down at the base below through a window, “I'd had hopes for (Y/N) in the beginning, I really had. They were so promising, and I knew that if they would grow into and accept their role as a marine, that they would be an excellent soldier. Possibly even an Admiral some day. But I never saw that acceptance. They were always only ever following orders. A cog placed into a machine.”

A humorless chuckle escapes the Fleet Admiral as he pushes the window open, “Did you honestly think that I was so desperate for information on Red Haired Shanks that I would send a child after him? Please. It was all a test. I wanted to see what would happen when (Y/N) was cut from their lead and without supervision. Just as I predicted, they ran off as soon as they got the opportunity. It's a shame that so many resources were wasted, but it's for the best that they left now rather than sticking around to cause problems later.”

“Now you wait just a damn minute,” Akainu seethed. “Just because that snot-nosed brat of yours went awol doesn't mean that my soldier did. (Y/N) would never go against orders like that. Something went wrong. Shanks must have caught on to the mission, so they pulled back.”

Sengoku’s reflection betrays the slight grimace on his face at the mention of Rosinante, but it's gone just as quickly as it arrived. Instead, it's replaced by a bitter scowl as he turns around to face Akainu directly, “You can't be this deluded. Not even Garp was stupid enough to force his family to become marines. You-” he lets out a hiss of a sigh, “It's like you're forcing a circle through a square shaped hole.”

“What the fuck do shapes have to do with any of this?” This conversation was going nowhere and getting more and more ridiculous by the second. 

“Just because you can force it to fit doesn't mean that's where it belongs. Was (Y/N) a damn good marine? Absolutely. No one will ever argue that, but they weren't meant to be one. The sooner you accept that, the better off you'll be.” Sengoku makes for the door, but stops just shy of it. “One last thing. If the deal you have with those pirates falls through and they don't hand (Y/N) over… I will not be permitting any further action against them.”

Everything said so far had been one sucker punch after another, but this took the wind from Akainu. His mouth opened and closed several times before he found the right words, “You want me to leave them to the mercy of a bunch of pirates?”

“Yes. They got themselves into that mess by abandoning their mission, they can get themselves out.” He meets Akainu’s shocked gaze over his shoulder, “I expect you to respect this. You're an Admiral, you have to put your position before your family ties.”

With that said, Sengoku takes his leave. Akainu stands alone in his office, thin wisps of smoke still filtering through the air from the smoldering drywall. 

—

It's the sound of turning pages that first starts to bring you out of your stupor. Bits and pieces of your memories seep into your foggy brain. 

Boats… you were looking at boats, but pirates tailed you after you left. The Whitebeard pirates. You got into a… fight? No, there was a chase, but they caught you. You were brought back to the ship and… Oh. That happened. 

When your eyes crack open, you're staring at the ceiling of an infirmary. You're still on the Moby Dick, so that's almost a plus. Definitely not ideal, but at least you haven't been handed back over to the Marines yet. 

God, your head is spinning. What happened to you? Did they drug you? Damn it, you can’t remember what happened. You try to reach up and rub your eyes, but you can't. Neither of your arms will budge. 

It takes a coordinated effort, but you're able to raise your head enough to see why you can't move your arms. Both of them are strapped to the bars on the sides of the gurney by a series of belts. You can't move them at all. 

You also take note of the picc line in your left arm. That definitely wasn't in there when you passed out. Your eyes trace up to the IV bag hanging above your head. Shit. They're probably keeping you on a steady stream of sedatives. That explains the lack of alarm you're feeling despite your current state of affairs. 

With your sleeve being rolled up for the picc line, one more thing was exposed. A large patch of scar tissue covering most of your forearm. A burn mark to remind you of one of the many times Akainu got too carried away while sparring with you. A plethora of similar scars littered most of your body, leading to you having a wardrobe consisting of shirts and pants that covered as much skin as possible. While many of your fellow marines took pride in showing off their scars, yours had always been a source of shame. Resentment. Hatred. Seeing one now only served to further sour your mood. 

“Oh!” 

The voice startles you out of your trance. When you follow it to its source, you spot a nurse sitting not far from you and holding a newspaper. You can immediately tell what her profession is because she has on the most stereotypical nurse's uniform you've ever seen. It's kind of odd to see such a sight on a pirate ship of all places. 

She gets up from the desk she was sitting at and hurries over to you with a smile plastered on her face, “Oh good, you're finally awake!”

Finally? “How-” You stop speaking and cough. Fuck, your throat is dry. Might be a side effect of the meds they have you on. 

Without even needing to be asked, the nurse fetches you a glass of water. She gently tilts your head up and allows the water to flow into your mouth at a steady pace. You greedily gulp it down in seconds. You watch the nurse closely as you drink, taking in her appearance. If you had to guess, she was in her early thirties. Coarse, blonde hair is held back in a ponytail with a few errant curls framing her round face. 

“Better?” The nurse sets your head back down and turns away from you, “You were out cold all night, we were starting to get worried about you. Well… more worried, I should say.” She coughs lightly and returns to your side with a clipboard in hand. 

“All night? What time is it?” Your voice was still a little croaky, but now you were thinking it had more to do with your brief coma than medication. You’re pretty sure it was only roughly midday when you got captured. You find it hard to believe you slept the rest of the day and through the night, but there isn't really any reason to lie about such a thing. 

“It's about a quarter till seven right now.” 

Damn. That shit really did knock you the hell out. You've always risen at five in the morning on the dot. Akainu would physically throw you out of your bed if you ever accidentally overslept, and then you'd have to run a lap for every minute. 

The nurse sat down on a nearby stool and smiled at you again, “I'm Elise. You'll probably be seeing a lot of me from here on out. Can you tell me your name, sweetie?”

Sweetie? The pet name made you cringe. You suppose you might as well answer her, though you can't imagine there's anyone on this ship that isn't aware of you and who you are. 

You tell her your name, making her hum in approval, “Very good! Now, can you tell me how you're feeling? Any dizziness or nausea? Difficulty breathing?”

“I'm… kinda lightheaded, I guess.” It's debatable if that's a side effect of the medicine or not eating for twelve plus hours, though. It could also be the result of prolonged sea stone exposure. Who knows?

Elise nods along and scribbles some notes down, “Good, good… Are you having any thoughts of harming yourself or others?”

For such a heavy question, she says it awfully casually, but the look in her eyes as she peers at you over the clipboard is anything but. You shift under her gaze. As much as you can, at least. The movement makes you realize that there are straps holding your legs down as well. 

What kind of question even is that? You're on an enemy ship, drugged, and restrained. How else does she expect you to feel right now? Especially with the impending doom of what is to come. 

Her stare doesn't let up for even a second. She isn't willing to let the question go unanswered, so you do what you have to. Lie. 

“No.”

It's evident to you that she knows that you're lying through your teeth. Mercifully, she doesn't call you out on it. After jotting down a few more things on the clipboard, it's discarded, and you're the center of her attention again. 

“I bet you're hungry after sleeping for so long. I'll ring the kitchen to bring something for you.” Elise picks up a transponder snail from nearby, “What do you like to drink in the morning? Coffee? Tea? Oh, I know! How about some hot chocolate?”

The response comes out before you can even really think about it, “I'm not allowed to have that.”

Elise gasps softly and brings a hand to her mouth, “Oh no, are you lactose intolerant? I think the kitchen has some alternatives they could use instead of milk.”

“No, I mean that it's too unhealthy. There aren't any benefits to drinking something like that.” Akainu never gave you the chance to form a sweet tooth. All of your meals were nutritionally dense with an emphasis on protein. Desserts were strictly prohibited.

At that statement, Elise frowns and puts her free hand on her hip, “Well that's just silly. Not everything you eat has to be “healthy”. A balanced diet is important, of course, but you're allowed to have treats.”

“But-”

“Ah, ah! No buts. I'm a nurse, so if I say it's okay, it’s okay.” Having made her point, Elise goes ahead and contacts the kitchen to order some breakfast for you. And a hot chocolate, apparently. 

Stubborn woman. But you suppose one has to have a firm foot and a backbone if they're on a pirate ship. Whatever. Might as well make the most of your last meal before you're sent back to hell. And subsequently executed for your misdeeds. 

The infirmary is empty, save for you and Elise. While you appreciate the privacy the vacancy affords you, it does leave you with a question.

“Where's The Phoenix?” You're honestly amazed he wasn't monitoring you directly given your perceived importance for the trade deal they had. 

Elise, having just finished placing the order for food, faces you again. “Marco? He left to supervise the retrieval of the medicine. A precaution in case the Marines try to pull something, I assume. Did you need something from him? He should be back tonight.”

Damn, they already have it? You thought you'd have more time before then. Your head drops down and your hands tighten into fists, “Oh. I'm guessing they'll be handing me over as soon as they're back…”

Genuine confusion flashes across Elise’s face, then realization, “Oh! No, no, no! We aren't going to be releasing you back to the Marines!”

Okay. You were officially lost. “You're… going to try and get more out of having me as a hostage?”

“That isn't it either!” Elise sighs and rubs her temples while quietly muttering, “Must be that medication's doing…”

“Am I missing something here?”

“Yes. One of the side effects from what we gave you initially is mild memory loss. It makes it hard to recall everything that happened right before the dose.” She approaches your bed and starts messing with the levers, “After your… outburst, Marco told you that you didn't have to go back if you didn't want to. Do you remember any of that?”

You wrack your hazy mind for the memory, but you're coming up blank. The last thing you remember is… a knife? Yeah, you got your hands on a knife and tried to stab yourself with it. Everything else seems to be lost. You aren't even completely sure if you just failed to stab yourself, or if Marco's healing abilities far exceeded Marine records. 

The lack of a response is an answer in and of itself. Elise shifts the upper portion of the bed up so that you're in a sitting position. The change makes your head spin a bit, but you keep that to yourself. 

A warm hand settles on your shoulder, and Elise speaks in a gentle tone, “No one here is going to make you go back to the Marines if you don't want to. You can relax.”

“But… if you're not turning me in, why am I still here? It sounds like you've already got what you wanted. I don't see why you'd be bothering with all this,” you nod vaguely at your body, referencing the straps and IV. 

“We can't in good conscience release someone in your state.” Her smile drops, and she stares down at you with what looks to you to be pity in her eyes, “You tried to end your own life, sweetie. That's something we must take very seriously.”

An uncomfortable lump forms in your throat, and your face feels hot with shame. You hated the way she looked at you just now. Like you were some poor, pathetic thing. Like she was looking down at some helpless rabbit ensnared in a trap. Like you were weak.

“I got this ready as fast as I could!”

You’re startled out of your thoughts by the infirmary door slamming open and the proclamation following immediately after. When you look up, you see Twin Blade Thatch entering the room carrying a tray with a mug and a bowl balanced on it. There is a twinge of familiarity in the back of your mind at the sight of him, and you don’t think it’s from seeing his bounty poster before. Did you see him yesterday? Maybe? You can’t be sure.

Thatch hurries over to you and sets the tray on the bedside table before turning to you with a smile on his face, “How are you feeling today?”

His question prompts you to look down at your restrained limbs and the- more likely than not medicated- drip bag, then back at him with an unamused expression, “Guess.”

The smile becomes visibly forced, sheepish even, and he averts his eyes, “Fair enough. Dumb question.” He clears his throat in a dramatic fashion, then recenters his gaze on you again, “I bet you’re hungry after sleeping for so long.” He picks up the bowl he carried in and tilts it toward you so you can see its contents. It’s a bowl of porridge with sliced fruit and nuts arranged on top in a visually appealing method.

But that’s not what you care about, there is a far more pressing issue at hand. You level him with a stern glare, “You better not be planning to spoon feed me. I will bite you.”

Thatch freezes and just stares at you with wide eyes for a moment, and that immediately makes you realize how stupid that was to say. You can’t even move, and you thought it was a good idea to start threatening people? What is wrong with you?! He could slit your throat right now if he wanted to, and you wouldn’t be able to do a single thing to stop him!

Instead of making your thoughts a reality, the pirate does something that shocks you. He laughs. You don’t know what to do with this. What are you supposed to do about laughter? Why is he even laughing? Did he find the absurdity of you spitting out threats despite your circumstances that funny?

“Oh, that’s a relief. You’ve got a sense of humor even after all that.” Thatch chuckles quietly and sets the bowl down before looking over to Elise, “We could take the straps off for now, couldn’t we?”

Huh?

Elise hums in thought, then nods. “I suppose we could, so long as you stick around for a bit to help keep an eye on them.”

Huh?!

They… They’re untying you? On purpose? This must be a trap. It has to be. They’re testing you. That’s the only thing that makes sense.

Your face is grabbed, and Elise makes you look her in the eye. “Do not,” she tilts your head down to look at the picc line, “try to rip this out. Understood?”

“Understood.” You knew better than to do such a thing. That’s a mistake you only make once.

After a particularly brutal training session with your father, you’d ended up in the infirmary. A regular occurrence, if you’re being honest. By the time you’d come to, the sight of the sun being high in the sky sent you into a panic. You were late, and Akainu loathed tardiness. In your rush to get out of there and beg for mercy for such a monumental fuck up on your end, you ripped the picc line out of your arm. Blood went fucking everywhere. On you, on the cot, on the walls. One of the nurses in the room fainted at the sight, followed shortly by yourself because all of your blood was now outside your body. You were out of commission for the rest of the day, and Akainu made certain that you made up for it the following day.

With your confirmation that you wouldn’t egregiously injure yourself, the two set to work on undoing the belts holding you down. Elise was making quick work of them, but Thatch abruptly stopped. You glance at him quizzically, wondering what the hold up was, only to see that his eyes are locked onto the opposing arm. You follow his gaze, and then you get it.

It was the burn scar marring most of your left forearm. Ah. This bizarre situation had distracted you from the fact that it was exposed. You can’t even cover it up because that’s the arm the IV is going into. Not that your other arm is much better. Or any part of your body, really. The skin of your face was the most intact, presumably because Akainu didn’t want to risk giving you the permanent handicap that came with losing vision in one or both eyes.

Elise loudly clears her throat and levels the pirate with a glare that honestly surprised you. How fearless she must be to behave in such a manner toward someone with a bounty like Thatch’s. This tactic, credit where it’s due, was effective. He snapped out of his one-sided staring competition with your arm and freed the other one.

Cautiously, you stretch your arms out now that they’ve been liberated from their confines. Mostly. The left arm stops short. You’d almost forgotten about the sea stone cuffs. It makes sense that they left that on, given that you’re a quite literal flight risk otherwise.

The tray containing your breakfast is carefully placed on your lap. The aforementioned bowl of porridge is on it, but so is a large mug that appears to be topped with a whipped cream. Is this the hot chocolate Elise had insisted upon? Your eyes flit up to the two people looming over either side of you. They’re staring at you expectantly.

All things considered, it seems unlikely that any of this is poisoned. They wanted you alive, that much was clear even if the particular reason behind it wasn’t. Besides, even if it was poisoned, you wouldn’t complain. Being freed from this mortal coil would be a blessing in your book.

Might as well do what they want. Maybe it’ll get them to stop breathing down your neck, if nothing else. You reach for the hot beverage first to see what all the hype is about. The mug is warm to the touch, but not so enough to burn you. Granted, that could just be the nerve damage talking. You’ll find out if that’s an accurate assessment based on whether or not this burns your tongue.

You bring the drink to your lips and sip at it. The cream is cold, but then a warmth trickles through and mixes with it. It’s very sweet. A stark contrast to the black coffee your father would drink and force upon you. The radically different flavor profile is borderline startling… but you don’t hate it. You quite like it.

Instead of savoring the hot chocolate and making it last, you continue tilting it up more and more until the cup runs dry. Okay. Perhaps Elise was onto something with allowing oneself treats such as this one.

“So it was a hit, huh?” Thatch is grinning proudly, “I made sure it would be the best you would ever have after Elise said you’d never had it before. Do you want some more?”

Mild embarrassment spreads into your consciousness at his observation of your enjoyment. This was a quirk of yours you never could really explain. Others seeing you experience contentment felt inexplicably wrong. Like you were doing something you shouldn’t be and being caught red-handed. You shake your head and set down the mug, “No. I’m good.” You promptly take the spoon on the tray into your hand and scoop up a mouthful of oatmeal in hopes of getting him to drop the subject.

The flavors of honey and cinnamon enhance the meal, making it taste far more pleasant than you’re used to. It’s all so good. You can’t stop eating it, and the porridge is gone almost as quickly as the hot chocolate was.

That familiar burn of shame reared its ugly head again. It would be bad enough to be so over indulgent at the best of times. What the hell were you doing doing so on an enemy ship? How disgraceful. 

“Good job! I’m so happy that you were able to finish it all,” Elise claps her hands together, looking weirdly elated over you eating. It’s unclear as to why that would matter to her. She continues, “Since you’re doing so well, how about we take you onto the deck for some fresh air and sunlight?”

“The deck? Like… of the ship?”

“Yeah? What else would it be, silly?” Elise moves behind the bed, clicks something, then begins to push it forward.

She’s trying to take you someplace where there will no doubt be a bunch of pirates. Some of which you may have even crossed paths with before. And you’re completely defensive. You look around at her and plead, “W-We don’t have to do that. I’m fine with staying in here.”

“Oh, hush. This’ll be good for you!” Undeterred, Elise proceeds to wheel you out of the infirmary with Thatch holding the door open.

Good for you? She’s trying to throw you into a den of wolves, and somehow thinks that’s going to be good for you? This was a set-up the whole time. They lowered your guard with a good meal just so they could rip the rug out from under you. Now you’re going to have to face the bulk of the Whitebeard pirates in your current hapless state.

All you can do is hope that pirates of all people will have the good grace to put you out of your mercy quickly.

Taglist: @twotrucksinatree @tigerstarstorm @mu5hro0m @brooks-real @one-piecelover

[alwayssassydreamer]

Undercover Love

A/N: sorry Mary that it took so long but I finally made it, I hope you like it

Summary: you and ace are inseparable and marco and thatch realize that there is more going on between you two though they can't believe how oblivious you two seem to be about it

Warnings: a silly fluffy story

Characters: Ace x F!Reader, Marco, Thatch

Ace was sitting cross-legged beside you, his eyes flickering to the horizon as you buried yourself in a book, one of the many novels you'd brought along during your travels. The two of you often found these moments together—quiet but meaningful, the kind where words weren’t always necessary.

He leaned over and lightly nudged your arm. "Hey, you missed a page."

You blinked and looked down, realizing he was right. "I swear, you’ve got a sixth sense for these things," you muttered, grinning and shaking your head.

"Maybe," Ace said, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips. "I just pay attention."

You went back to reading, but a few minutes later, a small gust of wind blew a stray strand of hair in your face. You swiped it out of the way with a frustrated huff, but before you could get back into your book, Ace was already there, plucking the hair from your face with ease and then put his hat on you. You glanced at him and caught a glint in his eyes, something mischievous, yet gentle.

"Always looking out for me, huh?" you teased, but you didn’t mind. You were used to this.

"Always, besides my hat looks good on you" he replied without missing a beat, his voice low and warm.

Ace laned back, letting his head rest in your lap. It was a familiar feeling, his warmth against you, the softness of his hair beneath your hand. You absently ran your fingers through his hair as you continued reading, and you realized that in moments like these, words felt unnecessary. The quietness between you was comfortable, more than any loud confession could convey.

Not far from you, Marco and Thatch were watching the scene unfold with knowing glances. It was clear to them what was happening. Marco had once casually remarked, "You two are like an old married couple," and while you had laughed it off at the time, there was truth in his words.

Thatch, had even tried teasing you both, but Ace was too oblivious to pick up on it. You, too, seemed unaware of how others saw the quiet closeness between you and Ace. You both laughed, fought, and drank together, never seeing the way the crew looked at the bond you shared.

Ace would often poke fun at you, calling you out for being so serious with your books, but that was just his way of showing affection. You’d shoot back with playful jabs, calling him an "immature lighter," and somehow, that made the bond feel even more familiar.

The meals were the same. You’d pass each other bites of food without thinking twice, sharing everything from a chunk of meat to the last piece of fruit you’d managed to snag. When one of you found something delicious, the other was right there, eagerly taking a taste. It was a give-and-take that had become second nature. You fed each other, laughed, and even bickered about who had the better choice of snacks.

Even when Ace would casually remove objects in your way when you were - once again - buried deep in a book you didn't need to acknowledge it. It was just Ace being Ace, looking out for you in his own way. And you didn’t mind. You were used to it, almost as though you didn't even notice how often it happened.

The Whitebeard Pirates watched all of this unfold - the deeper feelings growing between you was something the crew saw clearly. They’d exchange knowing looks when you two were together, sharing silent smiles over the quiet connection they saw blooming between you and Ace. But you and Ace were wrapped up in your own little bubble, caught in a routine that felt natural and right.

When the crew started teasing Ace about you, calling him out on his "sweetheart" moments or making sly remarks about your "togetherness," he’d scratch his head and offer his usual cheeky grin.

"Stop it," Ace would mutter, shooting the crew a half-embarrassed, half-challenging look. "We’re just looking out for each other."

And you’d back him up, saying something similar.

The Moby Dick had just docked on a new island, and you and Ace walked side by side down the gangplank, both excited for a change of scenery. The bustling atmosphere of the market greeted you immediately, with vendors shouting their wares and colorful stalls lining the streets. The salty air mixed with the smells of food, fried fish, roasted meat, and sweet desserts.

As you wandered, you couldn’t help but point out things you found interesting, a new fruit you wanted to try or a beautiful piece of clothing that caught your eye. Each time, you’d grab Ace’s arm to guide him over, his larger, muscular frame easily following you as you tugged him along. It had become a sort of unspoken habit between you two, an easy way to share the things that sparked your interest.

But it wasn’t just you pulling Ace around. Every now and then, Ace would grab your hand without thinking, drawn by the enticing smell of something delicious. You’d laugh at how quickly he could get distracted by food, his hand slipping into yours as he led you to a food stall. It was such a natural, effortless thing. No hesitation, no questions asked.

As you made your way through the market, Marco and Thatch were trailing behind, watching the two of you with bemused expressions. They exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with unspoken understanding.

"I don’t get it," Thatch muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "How can they not see it?"

Marco, ever the calm and collected one, just sighed. "Maybe it's just how they are. I don’t know how much more obvious we can make it for them."

"You think they’ll ever figure it out?" Thatch asked, a teasing grin playing at the corners of his lips.

Marco just smirked. "Who knows? But right now I doubt it"

Later that evening, the Moby Dick rocked gently in the harbor as the crew gathered for a casual dinner. The mood was lighthearted, everyone still buzzing from the excitement of exploring the island. You and Ace were once again side by side, as always, laughing, sharing stories, and just enjoying the company of each other.

But that didn't go unnoticed by Marco and Thatch. They casually approached you both, their expressions a mixture of patience and mild amusement.

"You two," Marco began, his arms crossed as he looked between you and Ace, "have been attached at the hip all day. You've barely left each other's side. And honestly, this 'just friends' act is getting a little old."

Ace glanced at you and chuckled, oblivious. "What, we’re just hanging out. What’s the big deal?"

Thatch grinned and leaned in, pointing between you and Ace. "The thing is, you two spend way too much time together. It’s like you're... I don't know, cozy together. You walk around with your arms linked, feeding each other food, sharing quiet moments—hell, you even lay your head in her lap, Ace!" His grin widened as he observed the subtle look that passed between you and Ace, both of you completely unbothered by the comment.

You blinked, furrowing your brows. "What’s wrong with that? I can’t help it if Ace is always hungry and needs someone to share food with."

"That’s not what we mean," Marco added with a sigh, rubbing his temples. "We’re saying that you two are, well, really close. More than friends. Like, ridiculously close."

You and Ace exchanged another confused glance.

"I don’t get it," Ace said, scratching the back of his head. "We’ve always been this way. What’s wrong with hanging out together?"

Thatch leaned back dramatically. "It’s not about hanging out, Ace. It’s about... being together, together. You know, in that way."

You stared at them, still not catching on. "You mean... like, how we’ve always been? Why does it need a label?"

Marco facepalmed, clearly struggling to find the words. "What we’re trying to say is, you two should really be together, in a... you know, romantic way."

You blinked again, your mind still in denial. "But we are together, in a way. We’re best friends. That’s... that’s enough."

Ace gave a small nod. "Yeah, exactly. We’ve always been this close. No need to overthink it, right?"

The tension in the air was palpable, and it was clear that Marco and Thatch were beyond frustrated. Thatch leaned back and crossed his arms, giving up. "You two are hopeless."

Nearby, Whitebeard, who had been listening to the conversation, let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head in amusement. "You two are truly something else," he boomed, his deep laugh echoing through the ship. "I can't believe you’re this thick-headed."

You and Ace both looked over at him, still not quite getting the joke. "What do you mean, Pops?" you asked.

Whitebeard chuckled and just shook his head. "No one’s ever been this clueless about that before."

It was at that moment, as you both stood there, still completely confused, that Ace suddenly stood up with a grin, clearly eager to move past the conversation. "Well, I don’t know about all this, but I’m in the mood for a dance."

You blinked, surprised by his sudden suggestion. "A dance? Now?"

"Why not?" Ace grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Let’s make the night a little more fun."

You hesitated for just a moment before a grin tugged at your lips. "Alright, I’m game," you said, not entirely sure where this was going but willing to play along.

The two of you found a clear space on the deck, and Ace, in his usual carefree manner, pulled you into a loose, playful dance. It wasn’t anything formal - just a bit of laughter, spinning, stepping in rhythm to the sounds of the crew's ongoing chatter. You both were far from professional dancers, but the simplicity of it felt easy, like everything else between you two. You would rest your head on his shoulder or he would pick you up and spin making you laugh even harder.

As you spun in Ace’s arms, you caught a glimpse of Marco and Thatch in the corner of your eye. They exchanged knowing glances, clearly still in disbelief at how long it was taking for you two to figure things out.

"You know," Thatch said, his voice loud enough for both of you to hear, "this is almost exactly how a couple dances."

Marco raised an eyebrow. "And they still don’t get it."

Whitebeard, still chuckling at the sight of you two, added, "Maybe this will be the night they finally wake up."

Ace laughed as he spun you one more time before pulling you back into his arms. "I still don’t know why they're so worked up about us," he muttered, his grin wide. "But I’m having fun."

You couldn’t help but laugh, your heart light and full of warmth. "Me too."

The dance with Ace had quickly turned into something more energetic than you expected. His infectious enthusiasm had you both laughing and spinning around the deck, your feet stumbling over one another more than once. You hadn’t realized just how out of breath you’d gotten until Ace finally slowed down, his arms holding you steady as you both tried to catch your breath, grinning at each other like you’d just won a battle.

"You’re gonna wear me out at this rate," you teased, your breath still coming in ragged bursts, your forehead resting against his chest as you leaned into him for support. The steady beat of his heart was like a calming rhythm against your cheek.

Ace laughed softly, a little winded himself, but clearly enjoying every moment of it. "Hey, if you can’t keep up, that’s on you," he joked, wrapping his arms around you loosely, his cheek resting atop your head for a moment.

Despite the laughter and the warmth between the two of you, Marco, Thatch, and Whitebeard stood off to the side, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes, clearly in disbelief. Marco’s face was a picture of exasperation as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"They’re really not getting it, are they?" Marco muttered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "How can they not see it?"

Thatch chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the ship’s railing. "This is too good. We’ve practically had to spell it out for them, and they’re still acting like nothing’s happening."

Whitebeard, standing nearby, just laughed heartily, shaking his head at the young pair.

"You’d think after everything today—hell, the way they’ve been acting all this time—they’d get it," Marco said, still stunned. "But no, they’re just... friends. Sure."

Meanwhile, you and Ace were still wrapped up in the warmth of the moment, his arms around your waist and yours around his neck, enjoying the simplicity of each other's company.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at Ace with a smile, and he met your gaze with his signature grin, still blissfully unaware of the whispers around you. "Well, that was fun," you said, your voice still light from laughter. "I don’t think I’ve laughed this much in ages."

"Same here," Ace agreed, before you both let go of each other. He gave you a playful nudge, then glanced back at the others. "You guys should join in next time, you know? No need to stand around looking all serious."

The next few days passed in the same easygoing rhythm. You and Ace continued to spend nearly every waking moment together, and it was clear to everyone around you just how close you two were. Whether it was sharing meals, joking around, or just enjoying each other's presence, it seemed natural—so natural, in fact, that neither of you thought much of it.

You’d walk together, arms linked, holding hands, or sometimes Ace would casually slide his arm around your waist as you both strolled across the ship, laughing at something ridiculous that had happened. Every time Ace was hungry, you’d end up sharing your food with him, like it was second nature. Even when he’d lay down on the deck to rest, his head would always end up in your lap, both of you lost in the peace of the moment. It was nothing out of the ordinary, at least, not to you.

However, as the days wore on, it became more and more difficult for the rest of the crew to ignore just how cozy you two were. Every little gesture, every shared look, every soft laugh - it was all starting to make a lot of sense to the others.

One day, as you and Ace walked across the deck, lost in a conversation about something trivial, Thatch couldn’t help but watch. He exchanged a glance with Marco, who had a very similar look of resignation on his face.

“Alright,” Thatch muttered under his breath, nudging Marco. “I think I finally get it.”

Marco raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

“Yeah,” Thatch said, leaning in closer as the two of you passed by, still oblivious to what was going on. "They’re not just clueless. They’re extremely innocent and on top of that plain dumb."

Marco sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I’ve never seen anything like it. They’re acting like a couple - but -" he paused, as if trying to process the ridiculousness of it, "they genuinely have no idea."

Thatch grinned. "Every single thing they do together screams couple. And still, they look at us like we’re speaking some foreign language when we try to explain it."

Marco, too, found it hard not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. "You’d think after all this time, they’d at least get the hint."

It had been days of watching you and Ace and Marco and Thatch couldn’t take it any longer.

One evening, after dinner, Marco casually called you over to sit with him and Thatch. You and Ace were both in the middle of chatting, but after a quick exchange of glances, you found yourselves being pulled toward the two men who were clearly on a mission to finally make you understand what had been going on.

Marco and Thatch sat across from you and Ace, looking like two men about to embark on the most difficult mission of their lives. Marco rubbed his temples, while Thatch was already looking like he regretted getting involved.

“Alright, listen,” Thatch started, leaning forward like he was about to deliver top-secret information. “We need to have a serious talk.”

Ace, lounging lazily with his arms crossed, blinked at them. “About what?”

“You two,” Marco said, pointing between you and Ace like it should be obvious.

You and Ace exchanged a glance before you shrugged. “What about us?”

Thatch groaned. “Okay, how do we put this… You do everything a couple does. You drink together, laugh together, share food—”

Ace nodded. “Yeah, so?”

Marco threw up his hands. “You sleep in each other’s beds!”

You tilted your head. “It’s comfortable.”

Thatch’s eye twitched. “Ace carries you around when you’re tired.”

“Well, walking is exhausting,” you replied.

Marco pointed a finger at Ace. “And you tuck her in when she falls asleep on the deck!”

Ace huffed. “I don’t just leave her lying around like some abandoned crate!”

Marco leaned forward, trying to get through to you like a teacher dealing with the class clown. “And doesn’t that mean something to you?”

You and Ace exchanged another glance before looking back at them. “Uh… yeah?” Ace said slowly.

Thatch perked up, hopeful. “Oh? It does?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “It means we’re really close friends.”

Marco made a sound so strangled it could’ve come from an injured seagull. “No! Not just friends! You’re together-together!”

You frowned. “We are together. I mean, we’re here right now, sitting together.”

Thatch looked at Marco. “I swear, they’re killing me.”

Marco took a deep breath, then leaned forward with the patience of a saint trying to explain something to a particularly stubborn toddler. “Okay. Listen closely.”

You and Ace nodded attentively.

“When you see each other,” Marco continued, speaking slowly, “do you feel warm inside? Maybe like… butterflies?”

You and Ace exchanged another glance.

“…From drinking?” Ace asked.

Thatch smacked the table. “NO! From love!”

You tapped your chin. “Hmm. I mean, I do like Ace.”

Ace grinned. “Yeah, and I like her.”

Thatch and Marco both perked up. “Okay, great! Now—”

“But, like, friend like,” you added.

Ace nodded sagely. “Yeah. Deep, deep friendship.”

Marco dragged a hand down his face. “You’re messing with us, right? You have to be messing with us.”

Thatch was now pacing, waving his hands around like a madman. “Okay, fine! Let’s break this down further. When you touch, like when you hold hands, doesn’t it feel… different?”

Ace thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I mean, her hands are pretty soft.”

You nodded. “His are warm.”

Thatch’s eye twitched again. “No. No. Not physically! I mean, do you feel a spark? A rush? Maybe a deep longing?”

Ace frowned. “A deep longing?”

You blinked. “For what?”

Marco groaned into his hands. “To be together!”

Ace and you exchanged yet another confused glance before turning back to them. “But we are together,” you said slowly.

Thatch threw his hands up. “As a COUPLE!”

There was a pause. You and Ace both sat there, staring at them with blank expressions, as if they had just tried to explain rocket science to two particularly dense sea kings.

Then, Ace nodded thoughtfully. “Ohhh… I get it.”

Thatch and Marco sighed in relief.

“You think we should be a couple,” Ace continued.

“Yes!” Marco and Thatch shouted in unison.

Ace scratched his chin. “Hmm. Should we?” He turned to you, eyes casual. “Wanna kiss?”

You gave a nonchalant shrug. “Why not?”

Marco's jaw literally dropped, and Thatch choked on his drink, sputtering in shock. Whitebeard, who usually held the wisdom of the seas and the authority of a captain, was now wide-eyed, blinking in utter surprise. They all stared at you, processing what had just happened.

"Did... did you just say... 'Why not'?" Marco managed to ask, his voice half disbelieving, half amused.

"Yeah," you replied, still as casual as ever, "I mean, it seems like the next logical step, doesn’t it?"

Ace, looking just as unfazed as you, gave a relaxed grin and you both leaned in and kissed each other, as if this was the most natural progression in the world.

“OH MY GOD, STOP!” Marco shouted.

Thatch practically leapt out of his seat. “That is not how this works!”

Whitebeard, who had been listening from his throne, suddenly let out a deep, rumbling laugh. “Gurarara… I have never seen two people be so dense.” Marco and Thatch nodded vigorously.

And then it happened.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. The laughter bubbled up from deep within you and you burst into giggles. It was so sudden, so unexpected, that even Ace shot you a confused look.

"Hey! Stop!" Ace said, trying to keep his own grin hidden, though it was clear he was fighting a smile. "You're ruining the act!"

But it was too much. The act, the drama, the whole charade - you couldn't keep up with it any longer. "I’m sorry!" you managed between laughs, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I just couldn't keep it up anymore."

“…Wait,” Marco said slowly.

Thatch narrowed his eyes. “Are you two…?”

Ace grinned. “Oh yeah. We’ve been together this whole time. Of course we knew what was going on between us. We just thought it was funny watching you guys try to explain it to us.”

"You guys... you guys really thought we didn’t know?" You leaned against Ace’s shoulder, still chuckling. "We’ve been together together the whole time. The whole time, guys."

Silence.

“You little shits.”

Thatch looked personally betrayed, and Marco just sighed, leaning back as if he had aged ten years in five minutes. Whitebeard, who had been listening nearby, suddenly let out a deep, booming laugh, shaking his head.

“I should’ve known,” he chuckled. “Only Ace would turn his love life into a prank on the crew.”

Marco stared at you both in disbelief. “You......You mean to tell me we just wasted half an hour-”

“More like weeks,” Whitebeard added with a chuckle.

Thatch collapsed onto the table, face down. “I hate you both.”

Ace laughed, throwing an arm around you as you grinned. “Aw, come on. You gotta admit - it was really funny.”

Marco just stared at the two of you, shaking his head in disbelief. "I... I honestly can’t believe this," he muttered. "You two were playing us this whole time?"

You simply shrugged with a smirk. "Yeah, you were so cute trying to explain it, though. We just couldn’t resist."

Ace laughed again, his arm still around you as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Guess we got a bit of a kick out of watching you all scramble."

Marco groaned, standing up. “I need a damn drink.”

Thatch pointed at you both. “You’re menaces.”

You looked at Ace, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You intertwined your fingers with his, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours nefore leaning in again to kiss him.

Whitebeard was still laughing, Thatch and Marco still muttering about you two being a pain in the ass as you and Ace simply leaned into each other, fully enjoying the absolute chaos you had caused.

[cinnamoonblue]

The Choices We Make | Masterlist

Started: 07.06.2025 Finished: Last Updated: 07.06.2025

Summary: One reckless night leads to the biggest and most unexpected change in your life. How will this affect your current life and how you and the charming stranger you met only once will manage to handle the bringing of a new life to this world together is a challenge yet to be discovered. Will you be able to make the right choices while battling your own demons? Who knows, all you must be worried about now is that your period is late...

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader

Supporting characters: Marco, Thatch, Whitebeard, Luffy, Sabo, Nico Robin, Boa Hancock, Isuka

Description: Modern AU | Firefighter Baby Daddy!Ace

WARNINGS: english is not my first language, all characters are aged up, explicit language, 18+ only, contains explicit sexual themes and content, use of alcohol, slow burn, conflicted feelings, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, jealousy, suggestive themes, previous toxic relationships, mention of depression, mention of pregnancy, strangers to co-parents to lovers, mentions of a lot of anxiety, mentions of cheating, mentions of mental trauma, social anxiety (+ more warnings will be added if needed to)

Additional tags: Reader is super awkward and has social anxiety and low-self esteem but this changes (I don't want to spoil), Ace is emotional invalid when it comes to love, but this also changes (no spoilers)

Chapter I | Lucky you Chapter II | coming soon...

Taglist - OPEN:

Comment down below if you want to be tagged when a new chapter is up ♡

writing, format, header & dividers © cinnamoonblue fanart by @usa_rinko_ on Twitter/X ©cinnamoonblue, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[averagedenjienjoyer0290]

CHERI WE WON IM SEEING FIREFIGHTER ACE ART @chrollohearttags

[kotaro-yumekuma]

He seems like the type who’s pretty serious about grooming—bet he shaves everything but his jaw every morning. Also kinda want him to just help himself to my lotion without saying anything.🧴

Image 1 Marco (thinking): Lately my skin’s been feeling really dry. Image 2

(left): E-Emulsion...? What even is that...? (note: 🌸’s skincare)

(top right): Part of being a well-groomed man... (spray sound) Pshhh...

(bottom right): Y/N: Press it gently into your skin like this… If you ever want tips, just let me know anytime.♡ 　Marco: ...I’ve been caught using it in the next room…

[portgasdbru]

whitebeard pirates groupchat

wb pirates (ace, izo, marco, thatch) x reader

cw: funny/crack, drug mention

[arkaiveofurown]

How Many Today?

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Female Reader

“You count the freckles on my back when you’re bored.”

You once absentmindedly started tracing the freckles across Ace’s back, whispering numbers to yourself. Now, every time you lie in bed together, he’ll ask: “How many today?” like it’s a game only you two share.

Word Count: ~2,900

tags: established relationship, fluff, warm romance

my masterlist here ♡

⸻

It was rare that mornings aboard the Moby Dick were this quiet. The sea was gentle, the crew unusually slow to wake, and for once, the deck wasn’t alive with noise and laughter.

Which meant, for you, a rare treat: waking up beside Ace without someone banging pots, shouting about meat, or screaming about chores.

Your fingers rested lightly on his bare back, skin warm even in the shade of the cabin. The early morning sun streamed through the porthole, casting golden light over the room. Ace’s freckles danced in the light like constellations—scattered stars across the broad canvas of his shoulders.

You smiled, resting your forehead against his spine and letting your fingertips begin to trace each one, soft and slow.

“One… two… three…”

You whispered it so quietly he might not hear, but the low rumble of his sleepy chuckle told you otherwise.

“You counting again?” His voice was thick with sleep, but amused. His head turned lazily on the pillow.

You grinned. “How many do you think you have?”

“I dunno. Depends on how good you are at counting.” He yawned, lifting one arm to rest it over your back and pull you in closer. “Did I grow any new ones?”

“I’ll let you know after a recount,” you murmured, kissing between his shoulder blades. You paused at the sight of the massive Whitebeard tattoo that spanned his back, the only place without freckles.

Your fingers ran along the ink’s edge reverently. “I don’t count the ones under the tattoo. Feels wrong.”

He chuckled, still half-asleep. “Pops would be flattered.”

You smirked. “That I respect his territory?”

“No. That his logo saved you from losing count.”

⸻

Docked for supplies, the crew had temporarily set up camp on a small, sunny island. The beach was nearly empty, save for the occasional pirate lugging crates, and you had dragged Ace away from the loading duty under the pretense of needing his “professional fire-starting skills.”

Instead, you both ended up sprawled on a blanket beneath a palm tree, Ace lying on his stomach in nothing but his swim trunks, half-asleep again.

His back rose and fell in a slow rhythm. You couldn’t help it—your fingers were already moving.

“One… two… three…”

He cracked one eye open. “Y/N. It’s your day off. You’re really spending it counting my dots?”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” you teased, flicking one freckle between his shoulder blades.

He groaned, dropping his head to the crook of his arm. “I do, actually. Your fingers feel nice.”

You laughed. “So I’m a back-scratcher and a freckle accountant?”

“My dream girl,” he said with a lazy grin, eyes still closed.

“Romantic,” you muttered, leaning down to kiss the nape of his neck. “But hey… I think there’s a new one.”

He lifted his head immediately. “Seriously?! Where?”

You tapped it. “Right above the left shoulder blade. Probably from sun exposure. You should be more careful.”

Ace snorted. “You sound like Marco.”

You sat up. “Marco doesn’t kiss them after he lectures you.”

“Mm. Lucky me.” He reached back to grab your wrist and pull you down beside him again. “Don’t stop. I want to know today’s count.”

⸻

Later that evening, the crew built a bonfire on the beach. Music played, sake flowed, and someone shouted for Ace to show off with his flames. He obliged, of course, setting the fire pit ablaze with a flick of his fingers.

You sat beside him, shoulder pressed to his, watching the flames dance.

“I think you’re solar powered,” you teased, sipping your drink.

Ace chuckled. “I do nap more in the shade. But only ‘cause you always wake me up with kisses in the sun.”

You blushed, hiding it behind your cup. “And your freckles glow in firelight. It’s weirdly cute.”

He turned toward you with a playful smile. “You love ‘em, huh?”

You gave him a mock-serious nod. “I am in a long-term committed relationship… with your freckles.”

Ace threw his head back laughing. “Then I should be jealous of my own skin?”

“You should be,” you teased. “They don’t snore.”

“Hey!” he barked, grabbing your waist and tickling your side.

You yelped, nearly dropping your cup. “Ace!”

He laughed, pulling you into his lap. His arms circled around you, warm and protective. The world faded to firelight and laughter, his heartbeat solid against your back.

He rested his chin on your shoulder and whispered, “How many today?”

You smiled and whispered back, “Fifty-eight.”

⸻

It wasn’t always sunshine and laughter.

There were nights Ace returned from missions battered and bruised, cloak torn, face stained with soot and blood. He brushed it off, always saying “I’m fine” before collapsing beside you.

Tonight was one of those nights.

He lay shirtless on his stomach, bandages around his ribs and shoulder. The Whitebeard tattoo was slightly scuffed, the edges red from a scrape. You sat beside him in silence, cleaning dried blood from his back with a damp cloth.

He flinched only once—when your fingers lingered near a newer burn scar.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

He shook his head against the pillow. “Not your fault.”

You said nothing, just continued the gentle cleaning until the blood was gone. Then your fingers brushed his freckles—soft, reverent.

“One… two… three…”

His body relaxed. “You still do it even when I look like a wreck.”

You leaned down and kissed the side of his jaw. “I love all of you. Even the broken parts.”

Ace closed his eyes.

“…Sixty-two?” you whispered.

He smiled faintly. “Might be a new record.”

⸻

A storm rolled in at sea, waves thrashing the Moby Dick hard enough to shake the windows. You were both awake, lying together in the dark bunkroom, the thunder rumbling like a warning.

You curled closer to Ace, who—despite being fire itself—still radiated a warmth that felt like safety.

“You okay?” he murmured, arm around your waist.

“I hate storms,” you muttered into his chest.

“I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m here.”

You shifted, turning so his back faced you, pressing your forehead to the place where the Whitebeard tattoo arched across his shoulders.

“Tell me something,” you whispered.

“What?”

“How many freckles do you think you had before we met?”

He huffed a soft laugh. “No idea. I never thought about them ‘til you started counting.”

You kissed between his shoulder blades. “You’ve got more now.”

“Think they’re multiplying ‘cause of you?”

“Maybe I’m magic.”

He hummed. “Then I hope you never stop touching me.”

⸻

The next morning, as the storm cleared, you sat with Ace at the bow of the ship. The sea was still rough, but sunlight peeked through the clouds.

Ace stretched his arms over his head, shirtless again, uncaring of the cold wind.

“You’re going to catch a chill,” you scolded.

He smirked. “I’m fire. I don’t chill.”

You rolled your eyes but came closer, hugging him from behind. He stilled when your lips pressed to the back of his neck.

“One… two… three…”

His voice was quieter this time. “I never liked how I looked. The freckles, the scars, the tattoo… felt like a mess. Like a walking contradiction.”

You rested your chin on his shoulder. “Ace…”

“But then you made all of it feel beautiful.” He glanced at you sideways. “You made me feel beautiful.”

You blinked back the emotion swelling in your throat. “That’s because you are.”

He exhaled, a small, quiet laugh escaping him. “You’ve ruined me, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Now every time I look in the mirror, I start counting. Wondering if you’ll notice the new ones.”

You kissed his cheek. “I always notice.”

⸻

Back in your shared cabin that night, Ace lay on his stomach again, head turned toward you, half-asleep.

You straddled his waist, your hands already drifting over his warm skin. The tattoo loomed, proud and bold, untouched by your count.

“One… two… three…”

He smiled without opening his eyes. “How many today?”

You leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Sixty-six. Same as yesterday.”

He chuckled. “Guess I didn’t get sunburned enough.”

“Nope.” You kissed his shoulder. “But you did get a new freckle on your collarbone.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” You kissed that one, too.

Ace turned onto his side and pulled you into his arms, pressing a sleepy kiss to your forehead.

“You’re gonna keep counting forever, right?”

You smiled against his chest.

“Forever.”

[2b4st4r]

Hello! I'm not sure what the rules are- I couldn't find them, sorry QAQ.

But I wanted to request an ASL (or just Luffy, that's fine as well!) x f!reader. Where the reader was the tallest out of them when they were all young, then as they grew up, reader became the shortest. (And if it's possible, I feel like it would be funny if reader was the youngest, because most children take pride in being tall for their age, especially if they're taller than other children older than them.)

Thanks for reading this request, and hope you have a fun time writing my request if you do so!

Tallest

ASL x f!reader

Words: 9,515

Summery: This fanfiction excerpt follows Y/n, Ace, and Sabo, who grew up together alongside Luffy in the world of One Piece. As children, Y/n, despite being the youngest, took great pride in being the tallest of the four, often teasing the boys about it. Years later, they are all accomplished pirates and revolutionaries, having set sail on their own adventures. When Ace and Y/n unexpectedly reunite, they discover they've both grown considerably, now towering over Y/n, a fact Ace enjoys teasing her about. Their reunion then leads to a heartfelt decision to seek out their other brothers, Luffy and Sabo, bringing to light a hidden, painful past from Y/n's childhood involving the Celestial Dragons, ultimately reinforcing the unbreakable bond of their unique, found family.

Warnings: Childhood Trauma/Slavery Implied, Teasing/Minor Bullying, use of y/n.

A/N: I am SO sorry, I made this a lot sadder then I thought it would/then what you requested. But I really enjoyed writing this! Also sorry about the rules thing

Masterlist

_________

The sun beat down on Mount Colubo, just as it always did, warming the forest and the hidden clearing that served as a makeshift training ground. A chorus of shouts and grunts echoed through the trees, punctuated by the occasional clang of lead pipes. "Ha! Missed me again, Ace!" a clear, joyful voice rang out, laced with a familiar teasing lilt. Y/n dodged another wild swing from Ace, her own pipe held casually at her side. Even at their young age, she towered over him, a fact she never let him forget. Luffy, already tangled in a tree branch he'd tried to swing from, giggled from his precarious perch, while Sabo, ever the more strategic of the three, watched intently, plotting his next move. They were an unlikely quartet, bound by sworn brotherhood and endless adventures, but in this wild, untamed corner of the world, Y/n, despite being the youngest, was undeniably the tallest, and she wore her height like a crown.

"Honestly, you guys are practically hobbits!" Y/n declared, easily stepping over a fallen log that Ace stumbled over. He grumbled, picking himself up. "It's not fair! You just keep growing!"

She flipped her (h/c) hair over her shoulder, a smug grin on her face. "Someone's gotta reach the good berries on the higher branches, right? You'd all starve without me."

Luffy, finally extricated from the tree, bounced over. "But Y/n, how come you're so tall? Are you part giant?" His eyes were wide with innocent curiosity.

Y/n laughed, a bright, clear sound that echoed through the trees. "Nope, just perfectly proportioned. Unlike some people I know." She winked at Sabo, who was trying to suppress a smile. He knew she was teasing, but even he couldn't deny the height difference. She stood at least a head taller than him, and even more so compared to Ace and Luffy.

"One day, I'll be taller than you, Y/n!" Ace declared, shaking his pipe at her. "You won't be able to tease me then!"

Y/n just chuckled, easily disarming his "threat" with a playful shove. "Dream on, shorty. By the time you catch up, I'll probably be able to high-five the clouds." She stretched her arms above her head, as if to demonstrate, her slender frame reaching further skyward. The sheer joy and pride in her height were evident in every movement, every jest. It was her signature, her unique mark amongst the three boisterous boys, and she reveled in it.

Years later

The salty spray of the Grand Line was a familiar kiss on Y/n's face as she gripped the railing of her ship, the Sea Serpent. Eighteen years old and a captain in her own right, she gazed out at the endless horizon, a faint smile playing on her lips. It had been a long four years since she and her brothers had parted ways, each setting sail on their own adventures at seventeen, just as they'd promised. Now, Ace and Sabo were 22, and Luffy, forever trailing a year behind, was 19.

A gust of wind whipped her (h/c) hair across her face, and she sighed, a small, almost imperceptible sigh of something akin to wistfulness. The truth was, Y/n hadn't exactly reached the lofty heights she'd once boasted about. She was still tall, taller than most women(barely, but she still counts that ½ of an inch.), but her childhood dreams of practically high-fiving clouds had remained just that—dreams. And somewhere out there, she knew, were three familiar figures who had undoubtedly shot up like beanstalks themselves. The thought brought a smirk to her face. She could already hear the teasing.

"Captain! Land sighted!" a crewmate called from the crow's nest, pulling Y/n from her thoughts. Her smile widened, a genuine, unburdened expression. Whatever her height, she was a captain, and the Grand Line was her playground.

The port town bustled with the usual chaos of a Grand Line stopover. Y/n navigated the crowded docks, her crew dispersing to resupply and stretch their legs. She was heading towards a local tavern, the scent of grilled fish and cheap ale already beckoning. As she pushed through a knot of sailors, a flash of orange caught her eye—a familiar hat, just visible above the heads of the crowd. Her breath hitched. No, it couldn't be. Pushing it off before continuing her way. She was just seeing things.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the busy street, Ace was enjoying a hearty meal at an outdoor stall, his signature hat tilted back. He laughed loudly at something his crewmate said, his broad shoulders shaking. He'd filled out significantly since his teenage years, a testament to the harsh realities of the New World. At 6'1", he was undeniably taller than the boy who used to swear he'd one day outgrow her. He paused mid-chew, his keen eyes scanning the throng of people. A flash of (h/c) hair, a familiar confident stride... no, it couldn't be. But then, she turned slightly, and his eyes widened. Y/n.

He watched, a slow grin spreading across his face. She was still tall, yes, but not quite the towering giant he remembered. He, on the other hand, was now nearly a head taller than her, a fact he was very eager to confirm. He swallowed the last of his food and pushed away from the stall, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. This was going to be fun.

Y/n was just about to step into the tavern when a hand clamped down on her shoulder, spinning her around. Her eyes widened. It was him, unmistakably. The freckles, the grin, the familiar spark in his dark eyes that hinted at trouble.

"Ace?!" she breathed, a wide, disbelieving smile breaking across her face.

He chuckled, that deep, rich sound that always made her feel like a kid again. "Hey, Y/n. Long time no see." His smile softened, a genuine warmth replacing the playful glint. "Damn, it's good to see you. I thought I was seeing things for a second there."

"You too!" she exclaimed, her voice a little choked up. Before she knew it, she was pulling him into a tight hug, inhaling the familiar scent of sea salt, smoke, and something uniquely Ace. He returned the embrace just as fiercely, lifting her slightly off her feet for a moment before setting her down.

They pulled back, a comfortable silence settling between them for a beat, filled only with the sounds of the bustling port. His gaze swept over her, taking in the changes, the way her hair had grown, the faint scar just above her eyebrow she hadn't had before. "You look good, Captain. Being out on your own treating you well?"

"Couldn't be better," she replied, a blush rising on her cheeks at his appreciative gaze. "And you? Still burning everything you touch?"

Ace laughed, a full-bellied laugh that drew a few curious glances. "Only the things that deserve it. But seriously, Y/n… it’s been too long. I’ve missed you, ya know?" His voice was a low murmur now, almost intimate.

"I've missed you too, you idiot," she admitted, nudging his arm playfully. "More than you know." She felt a warmth spread through her, a comforting sense of belonging she hadn't realized she was missing.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "Though… I gotta say. You haven't quite managed to reach those clouds yet, have you?" A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he straightened up, looking down at her with a smirk. "Last I checked, I'm pretty sure I could practically use your head as an armrest now. What happened to our little giant?"

Y/n's face immediately flushed a furious red. Her eyes narrowed. "You overgrown beanstalk! I'm still tall! You just... grew more!" She jabbed a finger at his chest, completely falling for the bait. "It's not fair! You were supposed to stay small so I could keep teasing you!"

Across the crowded street, the crew of the Sea Serpent watched, a mixture of confusion and outright terror etched on their faces. "Is that... is that Fire Fist Ace?!" whispered a trembling navigator, pointing a shaky finger. Their captain, Y/n, was currently jabbing her finger into the chest of the infamous Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, a man with a tattoo so recognizable it could make even the bravest marines break a sweat. And the scariest part? He was laughing. And she was flushing.

"Captain, what are you doing?!" one of the new recruits whimpered, clutching his sword. The older, more seasoned crewmates were equally perplexed. They'd heard whispers of Captain Y/n's past, of her "brothers," but this... this was beyond anything they'd imagined. This was the man who had faced down admirals, who sailed under the most powerful pirate in the world! Yet, their usually composed captain was acting like a schoolgirl, bickering with him like they were squabbling siblings, yet with an undeniable undercurrent of something more... something dangerously familiar.

"She's gonna get herself killed!" another gasped, eyeing the massive Whitebeard tattoo prominently displayed on Ace's broad back. It was a stark reminder of the power he wielded, the sheer force behind the man who was currently being teased by their captain. They braced themselves, expecting an explosion of fire, a casual obliteration of their beloved captain for her audacity. But instead, Ace just leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes that only deepened Y/n's blush.

"Oh, so it's my fault I kept growing?" Ace countered, stepping closer, his voice a low rumble that only she could hear over the din of the port. "Maybe you just stopped trying, Y/n. Got complacent at your… average height." He paused, his gaze lingering on her lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her furious eyes. "Though, I gotta admit, it's kinda cute when you get all riled up."

Y/n’s jaw dropped, her cheeks burning even brighter. "Cute?! I'll show you cute, you giant oaf!" She lunged, not with an attack, but with a playful, yet forceful, shove that sent him stumbling back a step. The crew gasped, their fear turning into bewildered awe. No one shoved Fire Fist Ace and lived to tell the tale, let alone got a playful grin in return.

"Alright, alright, feisty as ever," Ace chuckled, easily regaining his balance. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side, a gesture so natural it made her heart thump a little faster. "How about we grab a drink and you can tell me all about how your 'average' height has been serving you, Captain?"

The crew collectively fainted, or at least, looked like they were about to.

Ace's arm remained casually slung around Y/n's shoulders as they walked towards the tavern, his presence a comforting weight she hadn't realized she’d missed so intensely. The anxious whispers of her crew faded into the background as they stepped inside, the warm glow of the lamps and the murmur of conversation enveloping them. They found a relatively secluded corner booth, sliding in across from each other.

"So," Ace began, resting his forearms on the table, a genuine, soft smile on his face. "Tell me everything. What kind of trouble have you been getting into?"

Y/n recounted her adventures, her voice animated as she described challenging a minor Warlord, navigating treacherous currents, and even a comical run-in with a giant sea king that nearly swallowed her ship whole. Ace listened intently, his eyes crinkling at the corners as she spoke, occasionally interjecting with a laugh or a surprised "No way!"

"And then," Y/n continued, leaning forward conspiratorially, "I convinced the entire crew of a rival pirate ship that my cook's burnt stew was a rare, deadly poison, and they surrendered without a fight!"

Ace threw his head back and roared with laughter, drawing a few curious glances from other patrons. "Only you, Y/n! Only you could pull something like that off!" He wiped a tear from his eye. "Sounds like you've really come into your own, Captain."

Her cheeks warmed again at his praise, but this time it was purely from pleasure. "It's been... an experience. And you? Heard you've been making quite the name for yourself."

He shrugged, a hint of pride in his demeanor. "Just doing my part for Pops. It's a good crew, Y/n. A real family." His gaze softened, a hint of melancholy flickering in his eyes before he blinked it away. "But it's not the same without you around. Or Sabo and Luffy."

Y/n reached across the table, covering his hand with hers. "I know, Ace. I know the feeling. We always said we'd sail together, didn't we?"

He turned his hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "We did. And we will. Just not in the same way we thought when we were kids." He squeezed her hand gently. "But seeing you now… it's like no time has passed at all. Still the same loud, stubborn, ridiculously brave Y/n I grew up with." His thumb gently stroked the back of her hand, sending a shiver through her. "Even if I do have to crane my neck to look at you now." He winked, the teasing back, but softer this time, more affectionate.

Y/n snorted, unable to suppress a smile. "Oh, you just wait. I've got a growth spurt left in me. You'll be looking up to me again before you know it, Fire Fist."

Ace just grinned, squeezing her hand once more. "I wouldn't bet on it, Captain. But I'm looking forward to seeing you try."

Hours later, the tavern had emptied, and the stars had begun to pepper the ink-black sky. Ace and Y/n found themselves strolling through the quieter streets of the port town, their footsteps echoing softly on the cobblestones. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of the sea and the distant hum of the ocean. Their conversation had drifted from their separate adventures to shared childhood memories, punctuated by comfortable silences that only old friends—no, family—could share.

They passed a dimly lit market stall, its canvas awning rustling in the gentle breeze. Ace stopped, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know," he began, his voice a low murmur that seemed to blend with the night, "we should check on them. Luffy. Sabo."

The words hung in the air, potent and heavy with unspoken longing. Y/n felt a pang in her chest. She had thought about them, of course, constantly. Wondered if Luffy was still getting into impossible scrapes, if Sabo was still meticulously planning his every move. But hearing Ace say it aloud, giving voice to the buried desire, made it feel real, tangible.

They were both in crews they had sworn their lives to, families forged in the crucible of the Grand Line. To just… leave, even for a bit, felt almost wrong, a betrayal of the bonds they’d built. Their respective crews relied on them, looked up to them. They had responsibilities now, grander purposes than the simple, wild dreams of three boys and a girl on Mount Corvo.

But then again… it was Luffy. And Sabo.

The thought of seeing them, of hearing Luffy’s booming laugh and Sabo’s calm, steady voice, of having all four of them together again, even for a fleeting moment, was a powerful pull. The loyalty they felt to their current crews was immense, but the bond they shared, forged in blood and shared dreams, ran deeper than anything. It was a silent promise made years ago, etched into their very beings. The urge to see their brothers, to know they were safe and well, gnawed at them both.

Ace turned to her, his dark eyes reflecting the distant lamplight, a mix of conflict and yearning in their depths. "What do you say, Y/n? Think we could make it work?"

Y/n paced back and forth in the narrow alley, running a hand through her hair. "Ace, are you serious? Just 'check on them'? Do you have any idea what kind of mess that would cause? What about our crews? What about Pops? Do you really think Whitebeard is just going to wave his hand and say, 'Sure, son, go gallivanting across the Grand Line to visit your little brothers'?"

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "And my crew! They'd mutiny! I'm a captain, Ace, I can't just abandon ship to go on a sentimental little family reunion tour. There are protocols, there are responsibilities, there's the whole... you know, pirate life!"

Ace, however, remained infuriatingly calm, a confident smirk playing on his lips. He leaned back against the cool stone wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "Relax, Y/n. You're overthinking it, as usual. They'll understand."

"They'll understand what?" she retorted, throwing a glare his way. "That their captain, the one they swore loyalty to, just decided to disappear on a whim?"

"That their captain is a good person who cares about her family," Ace corrected gently, his eyes serious now. "Look, my crew, they know how important Luffy is to me. They know my connection to Sabo. Pops... he gets it. He's all about family, remember? He wouldn't stand in the way of me checking on my brothers. He'd probably just tell me not to cause too much trouble." He winked. "Which, you know, I might have to ignore a little."

He pushed off the wall, stepping closer to her. "And your crew? They follow you because they believe in you, Y/n. Because you're strong, and you're fair, and you're loyal. If you explain to them why this is important, they'll get it. Or at least," he added, his voice dropping to a low, persuasive tone, "they'll trust your judgment enough to let you handle it. We wouldn't be gone forever, just long enough to make sure they're alright. To see them."

He reached out, taking her hands in his. "Think about it, Y/n. Luffy, Sabo. All four of us. Even if it's just for a moment. Don't you want to see them again?"

His words chipped away at her resolve, stirring the deep-seated yearning that had been there all along. The 'ifs' and 'buts' of responsibility suddenly seemed less daunting than the thought of letting this chance slip away.

Y/n looked into Ace's earnest, hopeful eyes, the silent plea for a reunion echoing in their depths. All her carefully constructed arguments about responsibility and protocol began to crumble. The thought of seeing Luffy's boundless energy, Sabo's thoughtful smile, the sheer joy of having all four of them in one place again, even just for a fleeting moment, was an irresistible force. The pirate captain, the one who meticulously planned every move and accounted for every variable, was suddenly gone, replaced by the little girl who just wanted to see her brothers.

A slow smile spread across her face, mirroring Ace's. "You know, you're an insufferable idiot," she said, but her voice held no venom, only affection. "And completely reckless."

Ace's grin widened. "Comes with the territory."

"But," Y/n continued, a mischievous glint entering her own eyes, "you're right. They'll understand. And if they don't," she shrugged, a familiar devil-may-care attitude returning, "then they can just try to stop us."

Ace let out a triumphant laugh, pulling her into another quick, powerful hug. "That's the Y/n I know! So, what's the plan, Captain?"

Y/n pulled back, a determined glint in her eye. "First, we explain to our crews. Then, we figure out where those two knuckleheads might be. This is going to be complicated, Ace, but it's going to be worth it."

He nodded, his gaze fixed on hers, a shared understanding passing between them. The night air, once cool and crisp, now felt charged with a new kind of warmth, a renewed sense of purpose. They were pirates, yes, with crews and responsibilities, but they were also family. And family, for them, always came first.

Ace's Plea to Whitebeard

The next morning, back on the deck of the Moby Dick, Ace stood before the towering figure of Edward Newgate, the legendary Whitebeard. The air was thick with the usual bustle of the crew, but a respectful hush fell over the immediate area as Ace approached his captain.

"Pops," Ace began, his voice firm, "I need to ask for a leave of absence."

Whitebeard's massive eyes, usually twinkling with mirth or narrowed in battle, regarded him steadily. "Oh? And what grand adventure has captured my son's attention now?" His voice was a deep rumble, accustomed to commanding respect.

Ace didn't flinch. "It's not an adventure, Pops. It's… family. My brothers. Luffy and Sabo. Y/n and I ran into each other, and we realized we need to check on them. See if they're alright."

Whitebeard listened, stroking his magnificent mustache. A thoughtful silence stretched between them, broken only by the creak of the ship. Ace waited, knowing the weight of his request. Leaving his division, even temporarily, wasn't a small thing.

Finally, Whitebeard let out a hearty laugh, a booming sound that reverberated across the deck. "Gurararara! Family, you say? And my son asks to see his kin? Of course, you fool! What kind of father would I be to deny that?" He raised his gourd of sake. "Go, Ace! See your brothers. But don't you dare come back without some exciting tales for your old man! And don't cause too much trouble!"

Ace grinned, a genuine, relieved smile. "Thanks, Pops! You won't regret it!"

Y/n Addresses Her Crew

Later that day, Y/n gathered her own crew on the deck of the Sea Serpent. Their faces were a mix of curiosity and lingering apprehension after witnessing her interaction with Fire Fist Ace. She stood before them, her stance firm, her gaze sweeping over each of them.

"Alright, listen up!" she began, her voice clear and strong. "As you all saw yesterday, I ran into an old friend. More than a friend, actually. My brother, Ace."

A ripple of murmurs went through the crew, but Y/n held up a hand. "I grew up with him and two other brothers, Luffy and Sabo. We swore an oath when we were kids to set sail and find our own way, but also to always look out for each other." She paused, taking a breath. "Now, Ace and I… we've decided we need to check on them. Make sure they're safe. It's been years, and it's something we have to do."

A seasoned quartermaster stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "Captain, with all due respect, leaving the ship… that's unprecedented. What about our next course? Our supplies? The dangers of the Grand Line without our captain?"

Y/n met his gaze head-on. "I'm not abandoning you. And I'm not leaving you vulnerable. We'll set a course for a safe, secluded island where you can resupply and conduct maintenance. I'll leave detailed instructions, and your chain of command will be clear. I trust each and every one of you to keep this ship sailing true until I return."

She looked at each of them, her voice softening slightly. "This isn't a whim. This is family. It's a bond that means everything to me. I wouldn't ask this if it wasn't absolutely necessary. I need to do this, for them, and for myself." She took a deep breath. "Are you with me? Can you trust me on this?"

The crew exchanged hesitant glances, the fear of the unknown battling with their loyalty to their captain. The quartermaster looked at Y/n, seeing not just their captain, but the genuine emotion in her eyes. He sighed, then straightened up. "Captain, we follow you. Always have. If this is what you need to do, then we'll hold down the fort. Just… come back safe."

A wave of relief washed over Y/n. A genuine smile bloomed on her face. "Thank you. All of you. I won't be gone a day longer than necessary."

Ace and Y/n met again at the edge of the bustling port that evening, the setting sun painting the sky in fiery hues. A shared sense of exhilaration crackled between them.

"So," Ace began, a wide grin stretching across his face, "they're good with it?"

Y/n nodded, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. "Took a bit of convincing, but yeah. They're holding down the fort. What about your old man?"

"Pops gave me his blessing," Ace confirmed, his chest puffing out slightly with pride. "Said family comes first. Told me not to cause too much trouble, though." He winked, and Y/n rolled her eyes playfully.

"Right, because you never cause trouble," she retorted, nudging him with her elbow. "So, the plan? Who are we tracking down first?"

They walked a little further, the last vestiges of the day's chaos fading into the quiet hum of the evening. Ace tucked his hands behind his head. "Well, Luffy's probably causing chaos wherever he is, which means he's easy to find eventually. Sabo, on the other hand… he's always been the more discreet one." He chuckled. "Always plotting, always observing. We should try to find him first. He'll probably have a better idea of where Luffy's gotten himself into trouble."

Y/n nodded in agreement. "Good call. Sabo's the brains of the outfit, even if he doesn't always act like it." She paused, then glanced at Ace. "This is really happening, isn't it? We're actually going to find them."

Ace’s grin widened, a pure, unadulterated joy radiating from him. "Damn right it is! They're gonna be so surprised." He clapped her on the back, a little harder than necessary. "Aww, and they'll see how small and cute you are, shorty!"

Whack! Y/n's hand connected sharply with the back of his head. "Shut it, you overgrown tree! I told you, I'm still tall! You just keep unfairly stretching out!" She glared at him, but her lips were twitching with a smile she couldn't quite suppress.

Ace rubbed the back of his head, feigning pain. "Hey, you used to think it was hilarious when you were taller! Now look at you, all defensive." He laughed, an easy, happy sound that filled the quiet night. "Alright, alright, Captain. Lead the way. Let's go find our brothers."

The search for Sabo proved to be a more arduous journey than either Ace or Y/n had anticipated. What they'd hoped would be a quick detour turned into a two-week odyssey across unpredictable stretches of the Grand Line. They spent their days charting courses, cross-referencing outdated maps with Ace's more recent intel from the Whitebeard network, and chasing down every whisper of a "flame-powered revolutionary" or a "top-hatted brawler."

The Grand Line, in its infinite capriciousness, threw everything it had at them. They navigated through sudden, violent thunderstorms that appeared out of nowhere, forcing them to huddle together as waves crashed over the small, borrowed vessel Ace had managed to procure. They endured sweltering, windless days that left them drifting under a relentless sun, only to be followed by bone-chilling cold fronts that had them sharing Ace's meager supply of cloaks. One memorable afternoon saw them narrowly escape the jaws of a monstrous sea king, a beast so large it dwarfed their little boat, leaving Y/n breathless with a mix of terror and exhilarating laughter.

Their nights were a stark contrast to the chaotic days. Anchored in secluded coves or drifting calmly on placid seas, they found solace in the quiet companionship. They'd share rations, often warmed by Ace's flames, and talk for hours under the vast, star-dusted sky. They recounted stories of their respective crews, shared anxieties about the paths they'd chosen, and drifted back to simpler times, reminiscing about Dadan's tough love and the endless freedom of their childhood.

Ace, surprisingly, was a decent storyteller, recounting thrilling escapades with the Whitebeard Pirates, his voice low and rich in the darkness. Y/n, in turn, found herself opening up about the challenges of being a captain, the weight of responsibility, and the moments of profound loneliness she sometimes felt. They laughed about their old dreams and shared new ones, finding a comfortable rhythm in their shared past and uncertain future. There were moments of quiet intimacy, too, as they sat shoulder-to-shoulder, the warmth of Ace's body a comforting presence against the cool night air.

Just when frustration was beginning to set in, after chasing a particularly misleading lead to a small, isolated island, they saw him. A familiar figure, easily distinguishable even from a distance by his distinct top hat and pipe, was engaged in a heated discussion with a group of rather disheveled-looking individuals near a makeshift revolutionary base.

"Sabo!" Ace bellowed, his voice echoing across the clearing, laced with unadulterated joy.

Y/n felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over her so strong it almost buckled her knees. After weeks of searching, battling the elements, and countless near misses, they had finally found him.

Sabo spun around at the sound of Ace’s booming voice, his eyes widening in disbelief. His pipe nearly clattered to the ground as he took in the sight before him: Ace, undeniably larger and more imposing than he remembered, and beside him, Y/n. He hadn't seen her since they were all seventeen, and the memories of her towering over them, even as kids, were vivid.

He rushed forward, a joyous laugh bubbling from his chest. "Ace! Y/n! What are you two doing here?"

Ace met him halfway, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. "Sabo! You idiot! We came to find you, of course!"

Y/n, a wide, teary smile on her face, embraced Sabo next, a warmth spreading through her at the familiar feeling of his arms around her. "It's been too long, Sabo!"

As they pulled back, Sabo's gaze swept over Y/n, and a flicker of genuine shock crossed his face. He remembered her as the tallest, the one who constantly teased them about their height. Now, at 6'1", he found himself looking down at her, just as he did with Ace. Y/n, at 5'5", was still a good height, but she was no longer the giant of their childhood memories. The realization hit him with a surprising force, a comical twist to their reunion.

He quickly masked his surprise, a warm smile returning. "You both look… incredible! What brings you all the way out here?"

"We wanted to see you, you knucklehead," Ace interjected, clapping Sabo on the back, a playful glint in his eye as he glanced at Y/n. "And someone here," he nudged Y/n with his elbow, "was getting worried she was going to be the only short one left."

Y/n immediately flushed, jabbing him in the ribs. "Ace, shut up! I am not short! And you're just as much an overgrown beanpole as he is!" She gestured exasperatedly at Sabo.

Sabo's eyebrows shot up in amusement, a wry smile playing on his lips. "It's true, Y/n, you haven't quite reached the sky like you used to threaten. I guess we finally caught up, huh?" He couldn't help but chuckle at her indignant pout, remembering how fiercely she'd clung to her height advantage as a child.

"You two are absolutely insufferable!" Y/n declared, throwing her hands up in mock surrender, a bright, genuine laugh escaping her lips despite her protests. It was exactly like old times, and the familiarity, the comfortable bickering, felt like coming home.

The small revolutionary base, a collection of makeshift shelters and tents, became the impromptu site for a long-overdue reunion. Sabo quickly introduced Ace and Y/n to his comrades, briefly explaining their shared past with a glint of pride in his eye. After the initial introductions, the three siblings found a quiet spot away from the bustling activity, settling around a small, crackling fire Sabo had built.

Hours melted away as they talked, catching up on years of missed adventures. Ace recounted his fiery escapades with the Whitebeard Pirates, his voice filled with reverence when he spoke of Pops. Y/n shared tales of cunning and leadership aboard the Sea Serpent, her crew's quirks, and the challenges of being a captain. Sabo, in turn, spoke of the burgeoning Revolutionary Army, the injustices he sought to dismantle, and the hope he carried for a better world.

"Remember that time Luffy tried to eat that entire wild boar by himself?" Y/n chuckled, poking the fire with a stick. "And ended up with a stomachache for three days?"

"And Dadan made him run laps until he nearly passed out," Ace added, a wide grin on his face. "Good times."

Sabo laughed, a soft, familiar sound. "We always had to save him from himself. Some things never change, I suppose." He looked at Y/n, a fond smile on his face. "It's good to see you, Y/n. You really haven't changed much, except maybe for your height." He ducked as Y/n aimed a playful punch at his shoulder.

"You're just jealous you're not as graceful as I am!" she retorted, though her eyes were twinkling with mirth.

As the night deepened, a comfortable silence settled between them, punctuated only by the crackle of the fire and the distant sounds of the jungle. The air was thick with unspoken affection, a tangible warmth that transcended the years and the vast distances they had traveled. They were no longer just children on Mount Corvo, but fierce pirates and revolutionaries, yet the core of their bond remained untouched. The easy camaraderie, the shared history, and the deep, unwavering love for each other was a powerful anchor in their tumultuous lives.

The thought of Luffy, still out there, unaware of their reunion, stirred a fresh wave of excitement. Their little family, broken by circumstance and distant memories, was slowly, surely, beginning to piece itself back together.

The night deepened, wrapping the three siblings in a comfortable cocoon of shared history. The fire cast long, dancing shadows, flickering across their familiar faces. They talked of their dreams, their crews, and the endless expanse of the Grand Line that now separated and connected them. Laughter, genuine and heartfelt, often punctuated their stories, a melody of brotherhood and sisterhood that had been years in the making.

Ace tossed another piece of wood onto the embers, sending a shower of sparks upwards. He leaned back, his gaze thoughtful as he looked at Y/n, then at Sabo. "You know, it's funny," he began, his voice a little softer than usual. "We've talked about everything under the sun tonight, but we've never really talked about it, have we?"

Y/n tilted her head. "Talked about what?"

"How you even ended up with us," Ace clarified, gesturing between the three of them. "I mean, Sabo and I were together for a while, then the dork— luffy showed up at Dadan's around a few years letter, then you.. but you… you were different. You were the last one, and you were so quiet at first. Distant, even. It took you almost a year to really open up." He paused, his brow furrowed in thought. "And Garp… he was always so much gentler with you than with us. At the time, we just figured it was because you were a girl, but looking back, Garp's the last person in the world to treat someone differently just because of their gender. He always looked at you with this… pity. Or something close to it."

Sabo nodded slowly, his expression mirroring Ace's. "He's right. Garp was tough on us, but with you, it was like he was walking on eggshells sometimes. What was that about, Y/n? How did you end up with him?"

The warmth in Y/n's eyes seemed to dim, ever so slightly. The firelight flickered, making the shadows deepen around her. She didn't answer right away, her gaze drifting to the dancing flames, lost in a memory. A moment of silence stretched, heavy with unspoken questions.

The crackling of the fire suddenly seemed louder, the chirping of crickets in the distance more pronounced. The easy laughter and comfortable silence of moments before had vanished, replaced by a sudden, heavy quiet. Y/n reached for a nearby waterskin, taking a slow, deliberate gulp, her eyes fixed on the inky expanse of the night sky above.

"Well," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "Garp—Garp saved me."

Ace and Sabo exchanged a quick, bewildered glance, but remained silent, sensing the shift in her demeanor, the sudden fragility in her usually strong presence.

Y/n paused, her gaze still fixed on the stars, as if searching for answers in their distant glow. Then, she spoke the words that hung in the air, chilling them to the bone despite the warmth of the fire. "From the Celestial Dragons."

A heavy silence descended upon them, thicker than the deepest ocean trench. Ace's jaw clenched so tight a muscle jumped in his cheek, his freckled face darkening. Sabo's breath hitched, and the easy warmth that had flowed between them minutes before evaporated, replaced by a cold dread. Both knew, intimately, the unspeakable cruelty of the Celestial Dragons. They were the world's untouchables, their casual whims often leading to unimaginable horrors for anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path.

The implication hung in the air, a sickening weight. A child. A child saved from them. The only way a child would be "saved" from a Celestial Dragon was if they had been... a slave. The thought was a searing brand, burning through Ace's mind. He wanted to rage, to incinerate something, anything, to extinguish the vile image that had just appeared in his head.

Sabo's hand instinctively went to his chest, where his own painful memories resided. He remembered Y/n's initial silence, her flinching at loud noises, the way she would sometimes stare blankly into the distance. He had dismissed it as shyness, as the natural caution of a child thrown into a strange new family. Now, those distant memories twisted into a horrifying new context. Garp's pity, his uncharacteristic gentleness, suddenly made chilling sense.

"Celestial Dragons?" Ace finally growled, his voice low and dangerous, laced with a raw fury. His hand, even now, instinctively reached for the hilt of a non-existent knife. "What... what did they do to you?"

Y/n offered a soft, almost imperceptible smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. It was a fragile thing, brittle around the edges. Her hand unconsciously drifted to her left side, resting gently over her ribs. "I think you know," she said, her voice a low murmur, barely a whisper in the quiet night.

As her hand settled, a horrifying jolt of memory struck Sabo. He remembered it with crystal clarity now, a vivid flash from years ago. One sweltering afternoon, during one of their countless rough-and-tumble games, her shirt had ridden up. He’d seen it then, a strange, swirling pattern branded into her skin near her ribs. He hadn't understood it at the time, dismissing it as some kind of odd scar or perhaps a peculiar birthmark. But now, the context of the Celestial Dragons snapped the puzzle pieces into place with sickening precision. It was the Hoof of the Heavenly Dragon, the mark of a slave. He’d seen it in books, read about it in hushed tones amongst revolutionaries, but to see it on Y/n… on his sister…

His blood ran cold. The rage that had been simmering in Ace suddenly ignited, a furious, silent blaze in his dark eyes. Neither of them spoke, but the air around them crackled with unspoken horror and a shared, profound grief for the little girl they had found all those years ago. The truth, finally unveiled, explained so much about the quiet, distant child she had been, and it shattered their hearts all over again.

Y/n’s soft smile returned, though it was still fragile, as if daring to break. She quickly pulled her hand from her side, as if the brief contact with the hidden mark had burned her. She saw the raw pain and anger etched on Ace and Sabo’s faces, the horror in their eyes. The shared revelation hung heavy in the air, threatening to suffocate the warmth of their reunion. But Y/n, ever resilient, wasn't about to let it consume them.

"Anyways, Sabo," she said, her voice a little too bright, forcing a change of subject. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, bringing an almost business-like air to her tone. "I know you have a lot to work on, being a revolutionary and all. Important stuff." She glanced quickly at Ace, who was still staring at her with a mix of fury and protectiveness. "But if you can, if you would, do you wanna come find Luffy with us? Just for a little bit."

The question hung in the air, a lifeline thrown into the sudden emotional abyss. It was an invitation back to their shared, simpler past, a distraction from the harrowing present.

Y/n didn't push for an immediate answer. She understood the weight of the request. Sabo had responsibilities, a cause he was deeply devoted to. She just held his gaze, a silent plea in her eyes that mirrored Ace's own unspoken hope.

"Think about it," she said, her voice softer now, less forced. "No pressure. We can talk about it in the morning, after we've all gotten some sleep." She glanced at Ace, who nodded in agreement, his initial fury having subsided into a quiet intensity. The night had taken a heavy turn, and the need for rest was palpable.

Sabo looked between them, a flicker of emotion in his eyes—longing, conflict, and then, a slow understanding. He knew what this meant to them, to all of them. The unaddressed pain of Y/n’s past still hung in the air, a silent testament to the resilience of their bond. He simply nodded, the weight of his decision clearly on his mind. The three of them sat in quiet contemplation for a while longer, the only sounds the crackling fire and the gentle hum of the distant jungle, each lost in their own thoughts as the vast, star-filled sky watched over their complicated reunion.

A shiver ran through Y/n, not from the cool night air, but from the raw vulnerability she'd just exposed. The sudden, stark quiet that had fallen after her confession felt too heavy, too revealing. She needed a moment, a space to breathe away from the intensity of their gazes.

"Well," she said, pushing herself up from the ground, a casualness she didn't feel in her tone. "It's been a long day. I think I'll turn in." She offered them a small, tired smile. "Don't stay up too late, you two. We've got a busy morning ahead."

She didn't wait for a reply, just offered a quick nod and turned, walking away from the flickering firelight and the heavy silence, leaving Ace and Sabo alone with the chilling truth she had finally laid bare.

The first rays of dawn painted the sky in soft hues of orange and pink, chasing away the lingering shadows of the night. The air felt lighter, fresher, though an unspoken understanding now hummed beneath the surface of their interactions. Ace and Sabo were already up when Y/n emerged from one of the revolutionary tents, rubbing sleep from her eyes. They offered her a quiet, knowing smile, devoid of the shock and horror from hours before, replaced instead with a gentle protectiveness.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Ace greeted, tossing her a piece of dried fruit he’d acquired.

"Morning," Y/n replied, taking the fruit and avoiding their gazes for a moment, still feeling a slight awkwardness about her confession. But the easy way they were acting, the lack of overt pity, was a relief.

They shared a simple breakfast with some of Sabo's comrades, the usual revolutionary base bustle resuming around them. As the last of the food was cleared, Sabo turned to his siblings, his usual composed demeanor firmly in place, but with a new sparkle in his eyes.

"Alright," he began, "I've thought about it. And yes, I'll come with you to find Luffy."

Y/n's face lit up, a genuine, unburdened smile finally breaking through. Ace let out a triumphant cheer, clapping Sabo on the back. "Yes! Knew you wouldn't let us down!"

Sabo chuckled, holding up a hand. "But," he continued, a mischievous glint in his eye, "there are a few conditions."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in her gaze. "Oh? Lay 'em on us, Mr. Revolutionary."

"First," Sabo began, "this can only be for a short while. The Revolutionary Army's mission is too critical for me to be gone for an extended period. We find Luffy, we make sure he's safe and well, and then I return to my duties."

"Fair enough," Ace conceded, though a slight pout touched his lips.

"Second," Sabo continued, "no unnecessary trouble. I know that's asking a lot from you two," he glanced pointedly at Ace, then at Y/n, "but we need to be efficient. Our objective is to find Luffy, not start a war."

Y/n snorted, but nodded. "We'll do our best. No promises for when Luffy inevitably causes trouble himself, though."

"And finally," Sabo said, his voice softening as he looked at both of them, "we stick together. All of us. No splitting up, no going off on solo tangents. We do this as a team. For old times' sake." His gaze lingered on Y/n for a moment, a silent message of reassurance and protection passing between them. The promise was clear: they would be there for her, no matter what.

Ace grinned, pulling them both into a rough, heartfelt embrace. "Deal! Operation: Find Luffy, ASL style!"

On the Trail of Chaos

Finding Luffy proved to be significantly less of a logistical nightmare than locating the notoriously discreet Sabo. While Sabo moved like a shadow, Luffy left a blazing trail of chaos and good deeds wherever he went. Their journey, which took a little over a week, was marked by a series of increasingly absurd rumors and newspaper headlines.

"Heard he liberated an entire island from a tyrant just by yelling really loud," a fisherman muttered in one port, pointing vaguely eastward.

"Some giant rubber man apparently ate all the meat at a local festival," a tavern owner grumbled in another, eyeing Ace's similar appetite with suspicion.

Ace, Y/n, and Sabo listened to these tales with a growing sense of fond exasperation and nostalgic amusement. It was pure Luffy, through and through. Their week-long voyage together was a reunion in itself. On the small, swift ship Ace had commandeered, they settled into a comfortable rhythm. Days were spent poring over marine reports and newspaper clippings, tracking the most recent, most outlandish disturbances. Nights were filled with the easy camaraderie they'd missed so dearly.

Y/n found herself laughing more than she had in years, the simple joy of having her brothers by her side a balm to her soul. Ace would often spar playfully with Sabo on deck, their Haki-infused punches sending ripples through the air, while Y/n watched, offering tactical advice and occasionally joining in with her own swift moves. They shared meals, cooked simply over a small flame, reminiscing about Dadan's questionable cooking and their endless hunger as kids.

There were moments of quiet understanding too. Ace would sometimes glance at Y/n, a silent message passing between them, a shared awareness of her past. Sabo, ever observant, would subtly position himself closer to her, a comforting presence. The unspoken knowledge of Y/n's history with the Celestial Dragons added a new layer to their bond, a fierce, protective current flowing beneath their usual teasing and laughter.

As they neared their destination, the signs of Luffy's recent presence became undeniable. A distant plume of smoke, reports of a minor island's government being "reorganized," and the faint, yet unmistakable, scent of barbecued meat on the wind.

"That's him," Ace declared, a wide, excited grin splitting his face.

"No doubt about it," Sabo chuckled, adjusting his top hat.

Y/n leaned over the railing, a joyous anticipation bubbling in her chest. "Looks like our little brother hasn't changed a bit." She tightened her grip on the railing, a thrill running through her. The reunion was almost complete.

The island was a vibrant, chaotic mess, a testament to Luffy's recent visit. Buildings were half-repaired, banners of a newly liberated people flapped in the breeze, and the air was thick with the scent of festivities and, indeed, an abundance of meat.

"He's definitely here," Y/n grinned, jumping from their small boat onto the dusty shore. Ace followed, his eyes already scanning the horizon, and Sabo landed gracefully beside them.

They didn't have to search long. A booming, unmistakable laugh, followed by shouts of "Meat! More meat!" led them straight to the heart of the celebration. In the center of a bustling town square, amidst a crowd of cheering islanders and his own eclectic crew, was Monkey D. Luffy. He was just as they remembered him – boundless energy, an insatiable appetite, and a wide, beaming smile that could light up the entire Grand Line.

He was currently attempting to devour a portion of grilled sea beast nearly as big as himself, his straw hat slightly askew, surrounded by his equally unique companions. A long-nosed sniper was yelling excitedly, a green-haired swordsman was leaning against a wall looking bored but watchful, an orange-haired navigator was counting something on a paper, a blonde cook was passionately arguing with her, a tiny reindeer doctor was scurrying around, a cyborg was shouting "Super!", a skeleton musician was serenading a few islanders, and a quiet archeologist was observing the scene with a gentle smile.

"LUFFY!" Ace roared, his voice cutting through the festive din like a cannon shot.

Luffy, mid-chew, froze. His head slowly turned, his eyes widening to comical proportions. He blinked once, twice, then dropped his piece of meat with a thud.

"ACE?! SABO?! Y/N?!" he shrieked, his voice echoing across the square, completely overriding the celebration. His elastic limbs stretched, propelling him forward in a burst of rubbery speed.

He slammed into Ace first, nearly knocking the fire user off his feet, pulling him into a bone-crushing embrace. "ACE! You're here! I missed you!"

Before Ace could fully recover, Luffy bounced off him and launched himself at Sabo, equally ecstatic. "SABO! You too! What are you doing here?!"

Then, he turned to Y/n, his eyes sparkling with pure, unadulterated joy. "Y/N! You're here too! You got so tall!" he exclaimed, then paused, tilting his head. "Wait... no you didn't! I did!" He peered closer, holding his hand up to her head, then to Ace's, then to Sabo's, a puzzled look on his face. "Huh? You're all taller than Y/n now!"

Y/n simply laughed, a full, unrestrained sound, pulling him into a warm hug despite his height-related confusion. "It's good to see you, Luffy, you absolute idiot!"

Behind Luffy, his crew stood frozen, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and trepidation. They knew of Fire Fist Ace, the Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates. And the revolutionary Sabo. But who was this woman, who commanded such familiar affection from their notoriously reckless captain? And why were these legendary figures being embraced like long-lost brothers and sister? The sheer absurdity of the scene left them speechless.

The initial chaotic reunion slowly settled into a joyous pandemonium. Luffy, bouncing with unrestrained energy, insisted on introducing Ace, Sabo, and Y/n to his crew, each introduction punctuated by exaggerated tales and Luffy's unique brand of storytelling.

"This is Zoro! He's super strong but gets lost easily!"

"And Nami! She's a greedy witch but also our navigator!"

"Usopp is the bravest warrior of the sea! Even though he's a liar!"

His crewmates, initially bewildered, were quickly won over by the genuine warmth and camaraderie between the four siblings. Ace's booming laughter, Sabo's calm smiles, and Y/n's easygoing nature created an infectious atmosphere.

At one point, as they all gathered around a massive bonfire, sharing food and stories, Luffy suddenly pointed at Y/n, a wide, innocent grin on his face. "Shishishi! Y/n, you're short! I remember you being sooo tall!" He stretched his arms upwards, exaggerating her childhood height. "You used to be like this big!"

A wave of laughter rippled through Luffy's crew. Even Zoro cracked a small smile. Y/n, however, just rolled her eyes, a fond smile playing on her lips. "Oh, shut up, Luffy. You've just finally grown into your ridiculous rubber limbs." She playfully swatted at his straw hat. "Besides, I'm not short!" she protested, though the teasing tone in her voice betrayed her lack of genuine offense.

Ace chuckled, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "Yeah, well, someone had to stay the right size so we didn't mistake her for a giant." He winked, and Y/n playfully elbowed him in the side.

Sabo, ever the diplomat, interjected with a smile. "She's plenty tall. Just… we caught up." He ruffled Y/n's hair affectionately. "It's just a bit surprising, that's all. We all remember her towering over us."

Luffy, oblivious to the subtle nuances of their childhood dynamic, just continued to grin, happily munching on another piece of meat. "Shishishi! Still good to see you, Y/n! Tall or short!" He stretched his arm out and gave her a rubbery hug, nearly knocking her off balance.

The night continued with more laughter, shared stories of their separate adventures, and the comfortable feeling of being a family, finally reunited, even amidst the chaos of the Straw Hat Pirates' world. The height difference, once a source of Y/n's childish pride, was now just another fond memory, another layer to the complex and enduring bond they shared.

The bonfire roared, casting dancing shadows on the faces of pirates and revolutionaries alike. Luffy's crew, initially wary, had fully embraced the novelty of their captain's legendary brothers and sister. Franky, the cyborg, kept exclaiming "SUPER!" at Ace's flame abilities, while Chopper, the reindeer doctor, gazed at Sabo with wide-eyed admiration. Usopp tried to out-storytell Ace, leading to a hilariously exaggerated battle of tall tales. Sanji, the cook, kept trying to woo Y/n with elaborate dishes, much to Ace's mock-chagrin and Luffy's simple delight at the extra food.

Nami, ever practical, had managed to corner Y/n, exchanging navigator tips and quietly expressing her amazement at the sheer star power of Y/n's "brothers." Robin, the archaeologist, observed the familial dynamics with a gentle smile, occasionally asking a pointed question that showed her keen understanding of their intertwined pasts.

A Quiet Moment Among Brothers

As the night wore on, the party showed no signs of truly winding down, but Ace, Sabo, and Y/n managed to slip away to a quieter spot near the edge of the square, watching Luffy's antics from a slight distance.

"He hasn't changed a bit, has he?" Y/n chuckled, leaning her head against Sabo's shoulder.

"Not one bit," Sabo agreed, a soft, fond smile on his face. "Still chasing after the next adventure, still full of dreams."

Ace nodded, his gaze fixed on Luffy, a deep warmth in his eyes. "He's amazing. Stronger than I ever imagined he'd be." He then nudged Y/n gently. "You proud of him, 'shorty'?"

Y/n snorted, playfully punching his arm. "Of course I am, you brute. And I'm proud of you two as well. Look at us. Three legends, and me, a humble pirate captain."

"Humble, huh?" Ace raised an eyebrow. "I seem to recall a certain captain boasting about her height not too long ago."

"That was then, this is now," Y/n dismissed with a wave of her hand, but a blush touched her cheeks. "Besides, you're just jealous of my superior strategic mind."

Sabo laughed, a genuine, unburdened sound that reminded them both of their childhood. "Some things never change, indeed." He put an arm around each of them, pulling them closer. "It's good to have us all together. Even for a little while."

The three sat in comfortable silence, their shoulders touching, watching their youngest brother unknowingly bring joy and chaos to an entire island. The years, the dangers, the separate paths they had walked—they all faded into insignificance in that moment. All that mattered was the undeniable, unbreakable bond of family, finally reunited under the vast, star-studded sky of the Grand Line. The unspoken understanding of Y/n's past was there, a somber undertone, but it was overshadowed by the sheer, overwhelming wholesomeness of their present, together at last.

[grandline-fics]

The Grand Line's Bounty List

Have to now split the Masterlist into multiple posts now because of the amount of links.

HEART PIRATES, KID PIRATES, WHITEBEARD PIRATES, BIG MOM PIRATES, DONQUIXOTE FAMILY

Law The Moment They Started Seeing You Differently Seeing You Differently Part Two An Angry Confession You Need Liquid Courage To Act Lazy Mornings With You Comforting Him On A Bad Day You Get Pregnant After A One Night Stand You Call Them A Term Of Endearment They Touch Your Cold Hands/Feet At Night They Hurt You While Controlled The Little Things They Love With You Confronting Your Feelings After Being Silently In Love Prompt: Accidental Kiss You're There To Ease His Pain They Have A Nightmare You Marry Someone Else You Say Their Name In Your Sleep The First Time They Hear You Sing Prompt: Jealousy Kiss w/Do You Have Any Idea How Much I Want To Kiss You Right Now? You Try To Hide Illness From Him When You Fall Unconscious When You Unexpectedly Appear In The Paper Prompt: "No! Don't Give Me Those Puppy-Dog Eyes!" Valentines Event: Single Red Rose Valentines Event: Cupid's Arrow When You Don't Kiss Them Back

Kid The First Time They Hear You Sing You Call Them A Term Of Endearment They Touch Your Cold Hands/Feet At Night The Moment They Started Seeing You Differently The Little Things They Love With You You're Shorter Than Him Their Favourite Moments To Kiss You The Have A Nightmare You Marry Someone Else You're His Opposite Prompt: Jealousy Kiss w/Do You Have Any Idea How Much I Want To Kiss You Right Now? Prompt: Accidentally Saying 'I Love You' They Hurt You While Controlled Prompt: Desperate Kiss Valentines Event: Candlelight Dinners

Killer He Has A Crush On A Strawhat! Reader The Little Things They Love With You You Say Their Name In Your Sleep When You Fall Unconscious Valentines Event: True Loves Kiss

Ace Lazy Mornings With You You Call Them A Term Of Endearment You're Serious Until You See Something Cute They Hurt You While Controlled The Have A Nightmare You Marry Someone Else They Finally See You Jealous The First Time They Hear You Sing The Crew Interfere To Get You Together Prompt: Jealousy Kiss w/Do You Have Any Idea How Much I Want To Kiss You Right Now? Prompt: Taking The Hit For Them Prompt: Secretly Dating w/Desperate Kiss Prompt: Fake Dating (Modern!Au) When You Fall Unconscious He Gets Turned Into A Younger Version Of Himself When You Don't Kiss Them Back Headcanons: Randomly Leaning Against Them

Marco You Call Them A Term Of Endearment Lazy Mornings With You They Finally See You Jealous The First Time They Hear You Sing When You Fall Unconscious

Katakuri The Have A Nightmare You Marry Someone Else Valentines Event: Love Potion

Rosinante/Corazon They Catch You In Their Clothes Valentines Event: Love Potion "Dear Diary, My Brother Is An Idiot"

Doflamingo Immune To Your Charms, Ch.2, Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10 Ch.11 Ch.12 Ch.13 Ch.14 Ch.15 Ch.16 Ch.17 Valentines Event: True Love's Kiss When You Don't Kiss Them Back You're His Long-Suffering Second In Command | "Dear Diary, My Brother Is An Idiot" | Marine HQ's Health and Safety, Sexual Harassment, and Workplace Conflict Seminar 

Other Masterlists:

Strawhats

Red Hair Pirates, Cross Guild, Marines, Revolutionary Army

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

hello how are you it if my first time asking but what do you think it would be like if white beard had a daughter and she went on shanks crew like he haven’t seen his daughter for years and then he see her on shanks crew

also I love you writing you my favvvv

Imagine being Whitebeard's daughter on Shanks's crew

A mildly naughty bit under the undercut. Also, I'm having to change how I indicate action, instead of using Asterix *, I'm going to change them to [ ].

Marco: Pops, Shanks's ship is on the horizon, signaling they wanna talk-yoi.

Whitebeard: [rolls his eyes,] Fine let him aboard.

As the Red Force is pulling itself parallel to the Moby Dick

Whitebeard: [spots you working on the rigging] (y/n)?!

You: dukes [knows you're going to be in trouble, so you try to duck into the galley to avoid him]

Whitebeard: Young Lady, I fucking saw you, don't try to hide from me! Come here.

You: [shuffles in front of him] Hi Pops

Izou: oi, oi, don't go getting familiar with him.

Whitebeard: [holds up his hand] No, it's okay, this one is my biological child.

Ace: You have a bio kid? Why didn't you tell us!?

Whitebeard: I was trying to keep her safe, [turns to you and gives you a pointed look,] which is why I left you on Sphinx, where it's safe.

You: It was boring, so I snuck aboard the supply ship, that you send us every month, and hopped out at the nearest port.

Whitebeard: That supply ship is captained by Doma!

Thatch: Shall I go draft a summons letter sent to him?

Whitebeard: yes, thank you. [Turns back to you,] You should have stayed on Sphinx. Yes, it's boring, but that's because it's peaceful. Do you have any idea how rare and valuable peace is? Why would you leave?

You: Because I wanted more! I wanted to see the world! I wanted to fight strong opponents! Because I'm your kid!

Marco: [mutters loud enough for Whitebeard to hear.] Personality is fifty percent genetic.

Whitebeard: [Ignores him.] I understand that... urge to see the world. But why him! [Jabs a finger in Shank's direction]

Shanks: What's wrong with me?

Benn: [pats his captain's head] We've been wondering that for years.

You: He makes me laugh.

Shanks: [puffs up his chest with pride and cheekily sticks his tongue out at Benn]

Whitebeard: Please tell me you aren't in love with this misfit.

You: Sorry, I can't help who I fell in love with, [shrugs.] He makes me happy, and he treats me well.

Yassop: [yells from the deck of the Red Force] That's an understatement! He spoils her rotten, and she gets first dibs on any treasure we get. And he buys her anything she wants.

Whitebeard: [rubs his chin thoughtfully] First dibs, huh?

You: I also send funds home, back to Sphinx.

Whitebeard: I suppose I'll allow it, then.

That evening

The Crews: [have somehow started a boat party]

Shanks and Whitebeard: [chatting around a table ladened with food]

You: Daddy, will you pass the rum?

Shanks and Whitebeard: [reach for it, accidentally touch hands, and lock eyes]

the crews: ʱªʱªʱª(ᕑᗢूᓫ∗)

Shanks: (☼Д☼) !! *Books it for his ship*

Whitebeard: [hot on his heels] AKAGAMI!

Marco: wow

Benn: That was a mean thing to do, (y/n).

You: ଘ(✿˵•́ ω •̀˵) ? I didn't do anything, [lying].

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