One Piece Fanfiction - Blog Posts

Zombie Apocalypse AU (Eustass Kidd)

Summary:

Modern AU in which Kidd is more or less happily married. Content warning includes HEAVY SPOILERS so enter at your own risk: Heavy cursing, zombies, impending doom, people dying, angst, horror, grief, murdering your loved ones, explicit violence, violence towards small children, death, typical zombie apocalypse stuff. That said I think as far as zombie apocalypses go this is some pretty vanilla stuff. But then again I literally do not consume any zombie media whatsoever, so what do I know.

"Seriously, you never listen to me. You're suppposed to pick Stevie up from kindergarden today." 

"Babe, I told you, I'm working late today. I gotta finish up today's job, the client's been all over my ass for this, he's been hounding me for the past week non-stop." 

"How is your job more important than our ONLY son?!"

"That's not what I'm saying! But I'll run into big trouble with my boss if I just ditch work today!" 

"It's not what you're saying, but actions speak louder than words. You spend every single day at that damn garage. Do you even know what your son looks like anymore?"

The conversation replays in Kidd's head over and over on his drive to work. Of course he cares for Stevie. Of course he does. His wife Becka just doesn't realize how hard he works every single damn day to pay the bills for both of them. Not like she knows what that's like, she's been staying at home to care for Stevie for the past few years. Which honestly, he resents her for a bit. He'd rather get to spend some time off of work and in the company of his son too. She's right. He knows what his son looks like of course, but he feels so damn estranged from him that it makes him want to punch something. Shitty fucking money and the need to earn it. 

It's not even that he dislikes his job. He loves being a mechanic, but his boss is a proper asshole. Kidd's been dreaming about opening up his own mechanic workshop for years. The "Damned Garage", he'd call it. That way all the wussy clients would be scared off by the name alone and he wouldn't get as many idiots coming to his garage. That was the idea at least. 

During his work day, he manages to forget about the argument by throwing himself into his work. Usually his lunch break is around 1pm, but he puts it off by two hours, having felt the need to make sure that he finish one particularly stubborn piece of repairs first. He grabs his lunch and phone, sitting down in the workers' room at the table, biting into his sandwhich heartily as he turns on his phone to check for anything new happening. 

A sharp feeling of guilt stabs through him when he sees five missed calls from Becka. Shit. What if something had happened?

Without bothering to read his messages first, he calls her immediately. It takes painfully long for her to pick up and boy does she sound pissed when she does. 

"Kidd. Why the fuck didn't you respond?!" 

"Becka. I'm so sorry, I only just saw. What's wrong?" 

"Everything is wrong. Stevie is sick. I called you to pick him up. But of course you didn't fucking answer." 

"Sick? What do you mean, he's sick? What's he got?"

"I don't know! I'm at the doctor's. His breathing is really shallow." Her harsh tone finally mellows as a choked sob comes through the phone. "I'm scared, Kidd. He collapsed at kindergarden today and he's barely conscious. I don't know what the hell is going on. He seemed fine this morning. The caretaker said he sounded like he was choking on something before he collapsed." 

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Which doctor? I'm on my way." Kidd leaves everything where it is, grabbing his car keys and making his way to his car. He'll explain this to his boss tomorrow. 

Becka gives him the address of the children's doctor she's at. When he sits down in his car, it won't start. 

Why won't it start? He's a mechanic, he regularly checks over his car, almost religiously. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Start up you damn bitch!", he yells and slams his fist against the dashboard. Somehow, that makes the engine splutter to life. Sounds like it's got some issue, but that's the last of his worries right now. He needs to get to Becka and Stevie. The car damn well better hold out til then or he'll hijack any that he comes across. He doesn't fucking care right now. He grew up as a lowly street thug and he's not shy about using that knowledge when it counts. 

The streets feel oddly crowded for a tuesday afternoon. It shouldn't be rush hour yet, yet he gets stuck in one jam after the other. He clenches his fist so tightly that his nails start digging into the palm of his hand painfully, leaving angry, red marks. The pain distracts him from his worries at least a little. Just collapsed. Why would Stevie just collapse? If he was choking on something, maybe it was an allergy or some shit? Not that he was aware of Stevie having any. Then again, it was usually Becka, who prepared the meals for both of them, who knew this kind of shit. 

His fingers drum against the steering wheel impatiently. Fuck, fuck, fuck. If only he had his bike here, he'd be able to weave through the traffic without having to wait so damn long. 

It takes him what feels like hours to get even just two blocks further. That's when he sees a couple on a motorbike on the lane to his right. This is his chance. 

He gets out of his car, ignoring the incessant honking that follows him as he makes his way over. Before either of the two notices what's happening, he's pushed them off their bike. 

"Sorry, emergency!", he yells, but he doesn't feel very sorry as he revs up the bike and starts on his journey towards the doctor's address. 

He leaves his car standing there in the middle of traffic. Fuck if he cares, he just needs to make sure that Stevie's okay right now. The police'll be all up his ass over this later anyways, it won't be any issue returning this bike. It's a good bike, he reckons, nice bit of horsepower below him. 

The couple had been some idiot goody two-shoes anyways, respecting the traffic rules to much to weave in between the jammed cars to get to their destination. He definitely deserved it more right now. 

When he finally gets to the doctor, it feels like something out of a nightmare. People are screaming as they're running out of the building. 

"What the fuck is going on?!", he yells at the passers-by, but none of them are willing to answer. He curses once more, running into the building, calling up Becka's number once again. 

Fuck. "Cell phone service not available", his screen reads. Then why the fuck is he paying them a damn fortune for his contract every month?!  

Inside the house it's chaos too. Everyone seems to be trying to get out all at once, making Kidd need to punch his way inside. 

He gets yelled at for this plenty but he's easily able to block off any punches and kicks that come his way in retaliation. None of these people actually know how to fight, unlike him. 

"BECKA?! BECKA!", he screams once he's inside. "BECKA, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!"

But he's not sure that she'd be able to hear him over the chaos all around in the first place. He keeps shoving people out of his way as he makes his way to the first floor. Something in his gut tells him that if Becka isn't one of the people running outside - and he hasn't seen her amongst those, at least - then she'll be at the epicenter of whatever the fuck is going on right now. 

She'd be slowed down anyways, having to carry their son. He's sure he would have spotted them if they'd been part of the crowd rushing past him seeing as his tall frame is towering over most of the panicked individuals, but he can't be perfectly sure. 

Most of the people seem to already have cleared out of the first floor when he finally makes his way up there. He tries again. "BECKA?! BABE, ARE YOU HERE?"

He doesn't hear anything in response, but what he can hear is what sounds like the pounding of fists against a wall and muffled sobs. 

He makes his way towards the source of the location, his gut churning with worry. This feels like a damn fever dream and not reality. 

When Kidd gets to the room the noises are coming from, he stops dead in his tracks. There seem to be a half-naked man and child pounding against a door? 

"Oi, what the fuck are you-", Kidd starts up, but stops as they turn around when they hear his voice. 

Their faces are all but covered in ugly green pustules, red around the edges and oozing something that's either blood or pus, he's too disgusted to want to look closely. 

Yet he can't bring himself to actually look away either. They just stand there, staring at him, not replying, not responding in any way and Kidd's pretty sure that this is the eeriest thing he's ever experienced. 

His face falls on the young boy. Must be around Stevie's age, though it's hard to make out any of the boy's features granted there's a giant, welting pustule right above his left eye, covering all of it and even some of his skin below, amidst a face that looks almost burnt in how red and wet the skin looks. 

Kidd's just barely able to keep down the retching motion that his throat wants to make at the sight. He's seen some shit - especially during his time on the streets - but never something quite as disgusting as this. 

"Daaaaa.... ddy?" The boy suddenly says. Kidd freezes in his tracks. The voice sounded so slurred, so wrong, like the words had been forced out with great strength. But he'd recognize that voice anywhere. 

"S-Stevie? Is that..." He can't bring himself to finish the sentence. It can't be. This must be some kind of really fucked up nightmare. It can't be true. 

The boy walks towards him slowly, dragging his feet, one of his arms spasming uncontrollably at his side. Fuck. What the hell kind of disease was this? Where was Becka? 

If only he'd had his fucking phone turned on. He should have been here so much sooner.

And who the fuck was the man whose shirt was torn apart at the front, standing beside this monstrosity that bore Stevie's voice? 

The man still hadn't said anything. He tries to now, but all that comes out is a weird, indecipherable gurgle. Kidd wants to run, run as far as he can and leave this shitshow behind. 

But what if that is in fact Stevie? He can't just leave his baby boy behind. Not when he's clearly suffering from whatever kind of fuck-ass disease this is. 

Kidd crouches down, trying to not appear as disgusted as he feels. "Stevie, baby. Where's mommy?" 

"Daaaaaaaaddy." Again, the creepy, slurred voice. Stevie can talk full sentences, so what the hell is this about? Is the disease affecting his brain in some way. 

"Yes, baby, it's me." He nearly has to throw up as he accidentally breathes in too deeply, the rotten scent filling up his senses and making him dizzy with disgust. 

"Kidd?", a female voice suddenly sounds, slightly muffled. It sounds like it's coming from behind the door that Stevie and the man had been pounding against. 

Kidd feels like he can suddenly breathe a little easier. "Becka? Shit, is that you?"

"Yeah. Be careful. The doctor attacked me." 

"Wait, that fuckass dude is a doctor?", Kidd asks. 

Just then, the man tries to speak again, but it's a weak gurgle once more. Even Kidd's kid can speak better while afflicted by whatever the fuck this is. 

Kidd tries to ignore him, focusing on Stevie. "Baby. We'll take you to the hospital, okay? 's gonna be alright. Please don't be scared." 

But taking his focus off of the man seems to have been a mistake. As Kidd is still crouching down in front of Stevie the man seems to undergo some sort of change, his entire body convulsing seemingly at random where he stands, odd, disturbing noises coming out of him. 

Before Kidd can really react the man's suddenly flung himself at Kidd. Thanks to his well-honed reflexes, Kidd manages to let himself fall backwards to do a roll and get out of the man's reach just in time. "What the fuck is your problem, dude?!", he yells at the apparent doctor. 

But when he sees the doctor's face, a cold shiver runs down his spine. His eyes are turned so far back in his head that only the white can be seen anymore and he's coming for Kidd yet again. Kidd lunges for the stool standing in the middle of the room, needing something to defend himself with so as he won't get in direct touch with the disgusting pustules covering all of the man's face and upper torso. 

When the man lunges for him once again he crashes the stool into him, the flimsy wooden construction breaking apart and leaving Kidd with nothing but its two legs in hand. "Fuck!", he curses once again. 

The man seems momentarily paralyzed but goes for Kidd again immediately after recovering his bearings. 

"I'm gonna hurt you if you don't stop this shit!" Kidd's warning feels redundant at this point, but part of him still wants this shitshow to just stop, for the man to calm down and everything to return to normal. 

Kidd parries the man's uncoordinated yet strong attacks by smashing his two sticks against the man's attacking arms. He doesn't even make any sounds of pain, doesn't seem to react much to what must be brutal bruises forming on his arms, he just unrelentingly tries to attack Kidd further. 

A part of Kidd that isn't focused on the fight right now but on protecting Stevie is devastated that his little boy needs to see this shit, but it can't be helped. 

When the man simply refuses to abate in his attacks, Kidd starts bringing down the stool legs on his head repeatedly, jumping out of the man's reach any time he tries to grab him, desperate not to want to get in touch with whatever this fucking disease is. After countless brutal hits and the man's head actively starting to be deformed, he finally goes down. Kidd's arms are hurting from how much power he had to exert as he stands there panting, a disgusting mix of blood and whatever else was coming out of the man and his pustules on his makeshift weapons. 

He lets them fall to the floor as he then turns to open the door that Becka had been hiding behind. Becka jumps into his arms, holding onto him and sobbing desperately, clearly having been terrified out of her mind. 

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.", she keeps repeating, trembling wildly. 

"Is okay. I've got you.", Kidd reassures her, holding her in his strong yet exhausted arms. "I'll always protect you." 

Becka takes a while to calm down in his arms, but he needs that time nearly as much as she does. This is certainly not how he'd expected a visit at the doctor's with Stevie to go. But if Stevie had the same thing that the doctor had...

He can barely finish that thought as Becka suddenly gasps in pain. 

"Becka?!" Panic floods him within seconds. Becka stares down in horror, looking at her leg, which Stevie had bitten into with all of his might. 

He was so small and yet he seemed to have exerted so much force that he'd not only bitten through the fabric of her trousers, but into the skin underneath as well, drawing blood. 

"OW!", Becka yowls, kicking her leg to try and throw Stevie off in panic, but to no avail, he's latching on like a rabid dog. 

"FUCK; KID!", Kidd yells and grabs Stevie, trying not to get in touch with the disgusting stuff covering his body but unable to avoid it entirely in how much force he needs to exert to drag Stevie off of Becka. Even then he needs to grab his mouth and pry it apart to get Stevie to stop biting into his mother. 

He throws Stevie off, positioning himself in front of Becka in case Stevie tries to go for her again. Why the hell does he need to fight his own kid? What the fuck? 

Becka hisses in pain, trying to inspect her leg. 

Normally Kidd would never speak to his child like this, but he's so angry and overwhelmed that he can't keep his cool. "What the fuck, Stevie? How could you attack Becka!" 

Stevia doesn't seem particularly dazed at having been thrown off, getting back up, his one visible eye rolled back, only the white visible. "Mommyyyyyyy...... hurts....." 

Kidd can't help the tears welling up in his eyes at seeing his son in this condition. He'd hurt him. He'd hurt his beloved Stevie. But he had to defend Becka. What choice did he have in this impossible situation? 

"Becka, are you alright?", he asks over his shoulder, trying to keep an eye on Stevie even as he checks in with her at the same time. 

"Hurts like a damn bitch, but I'll live.", is the quick reply. 

"The fuck do we do?", Kidd asks her. What could they even do? 

"We need to lock him in somewhere and get help. I don't know what's happening to him. I don't know how to help him." 

Kidd can't see Becka's face either, but by the tone of her voice, she's definitely crying too. 

"Fuck.", he curses. "Stevie, do you understand what I'm saying?" 

He pushes Becka backwards a bit behind him as Stevie keeps approaching them again. "Huuuuuuurts....", the little kid groans. 

He doesn't know how to do this. If he grabs Stevie there's a good chance he'll be bitten too. With the doctor from here already on the ground unconscious - or in the worst case, dead - it might be a while before they were able to get help again. He needs to make sure he'll stay as uninjured as possible to take proper care of Becka, who might already struggle to walk with her leg now. 

So he picks up one of the stool legs again, a grim expression on his face. 

Becka nearly chokes on her spit as she sees this. "Kidd. Kidd, oh god, no. You can't hurt him!" 

"He's not going to listen to us right now, babe. I need to protect you." 

"That's our baby!", Becka pleads desperately, grabbing the back of his shirt to shake him. 

"I'll be careful.", Kidd replies gravely, shaking her off. 

Stevie tries to lunge for him but because of Becka's location being right behind him he can't dodge, so he has to block the attack with the stool leg. Part of him crumples and dies at having to hurt his own flesh and blood by beating against his wildly flailing arms and legs like this, but his survival mode lets him focus on the fight at hand first of all. 

Kidd goes on to take the initiative, pushing Stevie back towards the room Becka had previously been in with a flurry of feigned and real attacks. 

Stevie doesn't respond to the feigned attacks at all, not flinching back from them at all as one normally would have based on their reflexes. 

Kidd has already seen enough to know that something's seriously fucking wrong, but that's the nail in the coffin for him. 

He can only push Stevie back into the room by actively hitting him. Normally his little boy had been so weak, never one for being super sporty and preferring to draw and sing when the other kids ran around yelling and having fun, so he has no idea where all of this strength is even coming from. 

He can't bring himself to think about how much he's injuring the poor little child's frail bones, how much this will hurt Stevie when he's back to normal. 

Finally, he manages to slam the door shut right in front of Stevie's face, turning the keys over quickly. 

He hadn't even really noticed it during the fight itself, but now he realizes that tears are streaming down his face, actively blurring his vision. 

Kidd turns back around to Becka, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible, but she backs away hobbling from him when he gets closer. "You monster! How could you attack our little boy! You filthy, filthy pig! You bastard!" 

She keeps screaming, hurling insult after insult at him. 

Kidd just stands there and takes it. It hurts him deeply to see his wife saying such hurtful things to him, but he can't blame her. God if he doesn't hate himself for doing what he's done just now as well. 

"Becks...", he starts up but is quickly shut up by her screaming at him again. 

He can tell that she's starting to work herself into a state of hysteria so eventually he can't take it any longer, walks up and wraps his arms around her in a hug, even as she starts pounding her fists against his chest, still screaming at him for being such a horrible monster. 

She continues for quite some minutes before finally calming down, her screaming quieting down into miserable sobs. 

"I'll always protect you.", he mumbles into her hair, breathing in the scent desperately to try and calm himself, to find some semblance of normaly in this fucked up situation. 

He hadn't wanted any of this. He hadn't wanted his promise of protection to turn against the very product of their love, their only child. 

He surpresses his sobs, only allowing his tears to stream down freely as he holds Becka with all of his remaining strength. She needs him right now, more than she's ever needed him before, more than she ever would have needed him in a normal life without this kind of fucked up situation. 

"Love at first bite" - Sanji Fanfiction

Summary:

Being Sanji's lover, you are very much not okay with the way he fawns over your fellow nakama, Nami and Robin. The two of you have very different expectations towards your relationship leading to plenty of hurt and angst along the way.

Notes:

I have never learned to cook personally, so please excuse any strangeness featured in this work. At episode 420 in the anime (at the start of writing this). An "Hors d'œuvre" is a pre-appetizer part of a multiple course meal. I tried to make some notes for what I'd like to include in a Sanji fanfiction, but ended up only writing down "mon ange" multiple times because I'm a total sucker for Sanji being french and calling Y/N his angel. Am I as much of a simp as Sanji is? Possibly. Poor Sanji, he's in for a ride.

Chapter 1: Hors d'œuvre

Sweat trickles down your forehead.

You wipe it away with the back of your arm quickly, not wanting any of it to drip down and spoil any of the hard work you’ve been doing.

You’ve been standing here for hours, trying your hardest to make something for your lover.

Well, not lover, ex-lover. A rather recent development, as you had never quite found it in yourself to trust Sanji to be loyal to you until a week ago.

Knowing all too well how… enthusiastic he can get about any woman that isn’t above a certain age or decidedly ugly, you had always doubted his loyalty to you, no matter how many nice words he had spoiled you with.

Initially you hadn’t been so cautious, but when you’d seen him swoon over Robin and Nami, your other crewmates without any restraint, even though the two of you had started being lovers semi-officially on the Strawhat crew, the pang of hurt in your heart had shown you all too clearly that for you, he was definitely more than just a passing attraction, and that you certainly wished for him to feel the same way about you.

Your mind goes back to that instance one week ago. After Sanji had made an afternoon snack specifically for you – or so you had thought - you’d initially been over the moon with happiness. When finding out not long after that he’d showed the same attention to Nami and Robin, not so much anymore. You had confronted him, barging in on him in the kitchen washing some dishes without even bothering to knock, all politeness and manners washed away in your jealous rage.

“Sanji!”, you had exclaimed, voice taut with tension. Sanji had looked up curiously at your voice, and then beamed with happiness at seeing it was you. “Beatrice-chan! My love! You look as radiant as ever!” Your eyes had narrowed, and you’d spoken with frigid intensity. “Sanji. I’m not okay with you acting like you’re doing something special and exclusive for me and then finding out that Nami and Robin are getting the same treatment.”

Sanji’s face falls at your words. “But Beatrice-chan! They’re lovely ladies too, just like yourself! I can’t help but make sure all of you are comfortable and well.”

You cross your arms, glaring daggers into him. “Yeah, but I’m your lover, aren’t I? Those two aren’t. Shouldn’t I get special rights?”

You realize yourself how childish and petulant you sound, but you can’t help it. Sanji always fawning over the other two has left you rather irritable and unhappy and having let those feelings accumulate you are now on the verge of yelling at him.

Sanji, ever the ladies’ man, tries to soothe you. He stops  washing the dishes and moves over, his look apologetic. “Darling, my beautiful angel, of course you get special rights. But I can’t neglect the crew either, surely you understand?”

You pout, unwilling to back down even in the slightest. “Yeah, you say that. But actions speak louder than words. And I’m sick and tired of you always being all NAMI-SWAAAAAN and ROBIN-CHWAAAAAN every time they’re around.”

Sanji sighs and frowns. “But sweetheart, they’re my friends, my nakama. It’s a sign of respect, don’t you see?”

Your glare against him hardens. “What I do see is that you’re head over heels for women who aren’t me. And I know I’m just some random lover of yours which I’m sure you have plenty of, but I don’t like it. Not one bit. I’m considering to stop this arrangement of ours. I don’t like sharing.”

Sanji’s face falls completely, a look of sheer dread on it now. “No, no, no, mon ange, please don’t say that.” He steps closer, taking your hands in his. “You’re not “just some random lover” of mine. You’re my whole world, my dearest darling.”

You narrow your eyes. “Yeah, Sanji. And you say that to any person walking around with tits. So excuse me when I don’t take your flair for the dramatic seriously.”

He looks genuinely hurt now, and you’re almost starting to feel sorry for your harsh words… almost.

Sanji looks down, speaking quietly, almost dejectedly. “Is that really what you think of me? That I don’t care for you, that you could be replaced with any woman?”

You snort, your own pent-up hurt making you uncaring towards his own. “Yes. That’s what I think of you. You’re a total player, Sanji, just admit it.”

Sanji lets go of your hands, turning around to start washing the dishes again. He doesn’t respond and you can’t see his face, so you have no idea what’s going on within him. He doesn’t reply, which makes you stand there rather awkwardly.

After a while, you’re starting to feel a little bad and decidedly a little guilty. Even if you two aren’t really working out as lovers as well as you’d planned, he’s still your nakama that you care for. You start up, saying “Sanji-“, before you are quickly interrupted by him.

“Don’t, Beatrice. Don’t bother.” His voice is calm and controlled. You see him lighting up a cigarette for himself in between dishes, needing quite a few attempts considering that there’s no wind blowing or anything else that could interfere with the success of it.

You’ve never heard him speak so unenthusiastically to you, and it makes your heart clench in your chest. You’d wanted to confront him, yes, but you’d hoped childishly that admitting to your jealousy would make him drop his obvious affectionate nature towards your other nakama, not push him away entirely.

You speak up quietly, voice laced with regret. “S-so I guess that’s it? It’s over?”

Again he doesn’t bother turning around, taking a puff from his cigarette before resuming washing the dishes. “I guess so.”

His voice is still unnaturally calm and collected. You had thought about this moment occasionally, about what would happen if you ever decided to discontinue your love affair. But in your mind it had either been a glorious change from a love affair into a genuine relationship, or Sanji on his knees begging for you not to leave him.

The reality you are faced with is jarring. You had your suspicions about Sanji being quite the player, but him being this cold and uncaring at the end of your love affair? Never once would you have imagined things to go this way.

“O-okay. I’m just gonna- I’m just gonna go.”, you say weakly. Waiting for a reply you don’t receive for a few moments, you quickly turn on your heel and rush out of the kitchen. Tears are stinging in your eyes as you quickly make your way towards your room, praying you won’t run into anyone from the crew, especially not your ever-curious captain.

Whatever gods above there may be seem to heed your calls, as you make it there without coming across a single soul. You lay down on your bed, burying your head in your pillows as you let out a sniffle. You had certainly not wanted things to go this way. For Sanji to be this cold towards you.

It was such a stark difference from your previous encounters, from you initially being completely swept away by his unwavering and doting attention on you after you joined the crew, to a few ups and downs of you realizing you weren’t the only woman he fawned over and you two making up and reconciliating in steamy encounters of passion over and over. And now it’s over. Just like that.

You hadn’t thought about whether or not your love affair would be a long-term arrangement, but you’d never imagined it end this quickly either. Three long months had you been enjoying Sanji’s unwavering devotion to making sure you were okay and trying to fulfill your every wish and now it’s gone entirely, ended quickly by one of your jealous streaks.

As you cry into your pillow in a swirl of sadness and frustration, you curse Sanji for being such a player, for not caring about you when you’d wanted him to so badly, when you had hoped he’d eventually get past his initial infatuation and finally have any sort of real feelings for you. You have no idea how to face him again after this, but then again, he doesn't seem to care about you much anyways, so he probably won't care about that either.

Chapter 2: Amouse-bouche

As you finish reminiscing about your time with your ex-lover – and the separation that had felt surprisingly much like a break-up – you keep stirring the pot you’re currently standing in front of. You’ve been cooking for hours in hopes of somehow impressing Sanji as an apology for your previous rude behaviour. You’ve never really cooked much of anything before – usually just living by scraps and the small bits and pieces of food you actually could afford – and you are not so sure if the something brewing within the pot is actually edible.

You’ve asked Zoro to keep Sanji out of the kitchen, and every now and then you can hear the two of them arguing loudly over it, but Zoro has remained steadfast and adamant about Sanji not being let into the kitchen. You’d gotten Luffy’s permission for this specifically, or rather, you bribed Luffy by promising him he’d get a good chunk of the food you were gonna be cooking.

The recipe you’d decided on had been one you found in the various cookbooks to be found in the pantry. You were pretty sure Sanji just cooked everything by heart at this point, but apparently these were fond mementos he didn’t want to get rid off, even though they didn’t have his, but rather the name “Zeff” written inside their covers, whoever that was.

Having chosen a recipe by image alone you’d ended up with a seemingly simple recipe of octopus, sea king liver and plenty of funny looking vegetables. You’d been able to find all of the ingredients within the pantry where Sanji kept a rather impressive collection of ingredients and had been cooking away since. Again you peek into the pot, one octopus tentacle arm thing reaching up while many vegetables swam around in the strange brown liquid everything had turned into. You frown, wondering if it’s really supposed to look like that, but all you have for reference is the image of the finished meal in the cookbook. Which it does not remotely resemble as of yet, but surely it’ll get there... right?

By the time you finish, you’re sweaty and uncomfortable in the very warm kitchen. How Sanji manages to look so perfect while cooking for hours here, you have no idea. You wipe the sweat off your brow and put the pot on a device that’ll keep the food warm as you head for a quick shower.

Apologies and dinner are best had while not reeking worse than Zoro after a workout, you decide.

You head to the entry to the kitchen, where Zoro and Sanji are still standing, bickering. You clear your throat. “Uh. Sanji? I-I’d like to talk to you about something.” Sanji turns towards you, his expression guarded and mostly neutral. You’ve become one of the only women that Sanji appears indifferent to, and you’re pretty certain you don’t like this change. You much preferred Sanji still being yours. Or well, your lover. Semantics.

Luffy’s voice carries across the deck from the figurehead he’s sitting on: “Is it ready yet???”

You frown, giving your captain a hard stare. “No, need to do something first! I’ll let you know once it is.”

Sanji crosses his arms, giving away nothing as he speaks in a neutral tone: “Okay. What do you need to talk to me about?”

You gulp and gesture towards the door. “Uh, can we talk in private?”

Sanji shrugs faintly and heads into the kitchen ahead of you, not even bothering to hold the door open for you, a lack of chivalry that would previously have been unheard of. Seriously, you’d only called out his less-than-awesome tendencies. He should really not take it so poorly.

As you head into the kitchen after Sanji, you move in front of the pot containing your culinary creation to hide it from sight for now. You meet Sanji’s eyes hesitantly. “Right. So, I, uh. I wanted to apologize to you, Sanji. What I said back then, one week ago… I could have been a bit nicer to you. I’m sorry.”

Sanji’s eyes soften for a fraction of a second before his expression hardens again. “So you didn’t mean what you said?”

You bite back your immediate honest reply and give a faint smile as you lie through your teeth: “N-no. I didn’t. I know you wouldn’t lie to me about your feelings towards me.”

Sanji still seems a little cautious. You know that you’re a pretty good liar, so your expression and voice shouldn’t give it away.

Sanji’s eyes then train on the pot, furrowing his brows in confusion: “What’s that? Did you- did you cook something?”

You nod, forcing your smile to grow a little wider. “Yes. Yes I did. As- as an apology to you. I hope it turned out well. It’s why Zoro’s been keeping you out of the kitchen.”

Sanji almost breaks out into a wide smile, but you can see him visibly restraining himself from doing so at the last moment. "F-for me? You cooked something for me?"

You nod once more. "Yeah! I did. I hope you'll like it. I, uh, don't exactly have a lot of cooking experience." 

Sanji nods, stepping closer to the pot, looking inside curiously. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he takes in the scent, discerning the different ingredients you used. 

His expressions aren't giving anything way, after a moment he simply recommends a spice to use. 

"Oh! It didn't say anything about that in the cookbook." You feel a little stubborn and point to the cookbook. 

A brief flash of recognition passes across Sanji's face. "Ah. You took one of mine." 

You bite your lip. "Uh, yeah. It was just laying around, I thought anyone could use it." 

Another lie, you’d found the cookbooks stored away hidden under countless ingredients in an infrequently used corner of the pantry.

Sanji can easily identify the lie as what it is, of course, having put the cookbooks there himself. He doesn’t comment on it, however, just fixing you with an inscrutable gaze.

“Well, these cookbooks don’t know everything. I’d suggest you add the spice for a bit of added flavor.”

You’re about to protest again, but then stop yourself. Your stubborn nature insists on knowing better, but you’ve cooked this in order to apologize to Sanji, after all. It might be smart not to start an argument over your apology meal.

You know where the spice can be found, but you smile at him innocently, having read somewhere that men like being needed for help and that it makes them like you better or something. That certainly can’t hurt for your goal. “Where is that spice? Sorry, I don’t know my way around your kitchen.”

Sanji wordlessly points to the shelf right to your left, where the spice is prominently displayed. You grimace but quickly regain your composure and smile, laughing awkwardly. “Oh! I’m so silly. My bad.” Inside you’re seething, your pride wounded at your failed attempt at manipulation. It’s entirely your own fault, but in your mind Sanji is definitely the one to blame.

Sanji doesn’t seem to be in the mood for much further talking about things after this awkward interaction, so he nods curtly. “I look forward to tasting this food for dinner.” He then excuses himself from the room politely.

You grimace as you stare after his retreating figure. This has gone much worse than you’d hoped. You’re going out of your way to do something for the man, so why isn’t he accrediting you the way you deserve to be? What a stuck-up snob.

Later, during dinner, Luffy is positively ecstatic to get to taste your food.

“Smells so yummy!”, he keeps saying. The other crewmembers are eyeing your culinary creation far more suspiciously, and you’re pretty sure you heard Usopp whispering to Nami if you were trying to poison them all earlier.

Luffy and Sanji are the only ones who immediately start loading food onto their plates. When Zoro crosses his arms and only takes a sip of his beer instead of loading any food onto his plate, Sanji stands up and snaps at him. “Oi, Mosshead! Bea worked very hard on this! Be polite for once in your life and take some food!”

Zoro glares at Sanji but obediently takes some food onto his plate. The others follow shortly after, although you can’t help but notice how small the portions are.

Luffy is already on his second plate and keeps stuffing his face with the food, one octopus tentacle dangling out of his mouth as he speaks “I love it! You should cook together with Sanji so we have even more food! Sanji’s food is the best, but if he teaches you I bet you’ll get there quickly too!”

You beam at Luffy’s praise and look at Sanji, hoping to hear the same sort of praise from the chef himself. Sanji’s giving you a smile, but his cheeks are looking distinctly green and his forehead looks a little sweaty.

You haven’t touched a bite of your own food yet either, and as you load it onto your plate Usopp suddenly yells loudly “GAAAAAAH I KNEW YOU WERE TRYING TO POISON US! What did you put in here, sea slugs and algae?!”

As you look at the other members of the crew, everyone has a similar look of green on their face, some looking utterly repulsed, some looking like they’re about to throw up.

Zoro’s face is a grimace but he loads a second potion onto his plate without complaint, clearly willing do endure the culinary horrors of your making stoically.

Sanji stands up once more, smashing his hands against the table. He speaks in a snarl. “Shut up, Usopp. And you others too. Bea made this food, and you’re all damn well going to eat your fill. None of this is going to waste. She tried her best and that’s what matters. It’s still better than what most of you could cook.”

Luffy, completely oblivious to the tension in the room, grins widely. “That’s okay, Sanji! I’ll just eat everything myself!”

You can see all of the crew members discreetly pushing their plates towards him, all but Sanji and Zoro, who are eating their plates diligently.

Luffy’s hands stretch out and grab at all of the plates being handed to him. He appears to be on cloud nine. Well, at least one of them is happy with your food. When it’s only the monster trio and you left in the room, you address Sanji quietly. “Is it really that bad, Sanji?”

Sanji’s eyes meet yours, a tender smile spreading on his face, the first smile he’s given you since your splitting apart. “Chèrie, it’s not that the food is bad per se. You’re just starting out on your journey, it takes plenty of time and training like most things in life. But I’d say it was a good first attempt.”

Zoro snorts. “Oh, stop kissing her ass. It’s edible, but just barely. Maybe try something easier first before jumping into the fancy stuff that curly eyebrows always makes. You’re asking too much of yourself.”

While Zoro’s advice is solid and meant well, you can’t help but feel irritated. You’ve never been one to handle criticism well, and this time is no different.

Luffy’s words, however, soothe your angry heart. “Whaddya mean just barely?! I think it’s great!”

You smile and nod at Luffy gratefully. “Thanks, captain.” Luffy giggles. “Shishishi! Don’t call me “captain”. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Your smile widens. “Yeah, that’s true. Alright… Luffy.”

Dinner ends on a positive note this way. Sanji insists on cleaning the dishes for you, saying that you’ve spent enough time and energy cooking for the crew today. You can’t help but be a little impressed with how usually he does both things on his own every day, multiple times a day.

As you head to bed that night, you can’t help but feel a little disheartened. You’ve barely even gotten to speak to Sanji today, and you’re frustrated that your food turned out so poorly when you invested so many hours into making it. On the other hand, at least Sanji defended your food – and you – valiantly to the others. But he’d probably have done the same for Nami or Robin. In fact, he’d probably have done it far more intensely for Nami or Robin, granted how distant he’s been with you lately.

As you drift off to sleep your dreams are uneasy and your sleep fitful, filled with feelings of rejection and disheartened feelings.

Chapter 3: Soupe

Summary:

Here's where my naming system for these chapters fails me. Hors d'ouevre and amouse-bouche sound fancy enough, but soup is... well, soup. I'm so sorry that I'm taking so long for these chapters to come out! I had about 60% written about a month ago, but took a horribly long time to refill my Sanji-Angst-o-meter.

Sanji has always wanted a girlfriend. Having been taught to treat all women well, he’d always dreamt of the day he would get to find his very own princess and spoil her to the heavens and above. 

Unfortunately, fate seemed to have other plans for him. While he certainly never stopped trying, most women didn’t exactly take him for full with his admiring and subservient approach. 

He’d been exploited by a few women, sure, but he’d never found the one thing he so desperately wished for - true love. 

But all of that had changed, or so Sanji had thought, when Luffy invited a new crew member to the Strawhat pirates. Bea. Short for Beatrice. A name worthy of an angel. 

Bea was everything Sanji had ever dreamed of. She had long, flowing auburn hair, a sweet smile, rather impressive assets, and the very best thing was - she seemed to be interested in Sanji too. 

Sanji didn’t know what he had done right to deserve a girl like her, but he was over the moon with joy. He’d shower her with his attention, with praise, reading her every wish from her eyes. 

They’d never officially established their relationship or talked about their love explicitly, but Sanji figured that seeing as they were both deeply in love with another, they would automatically be boyfriend and girlfriend. 

Despite his previous obsession with seeing women naked and what could only be called being a total pervert, Sanji found himself realizing something. While he and Bea had started sleeping with one another, it wasn’t the one big highlight of the day for him as it had been with his previous short-lived relationships.

No, Sanji found himself enjoying Bea’s company during the day just as much as during those intimate times. He would always love chasing those exclusive highs and getting to enjoy the divinity that is the female body, but even the quiet moments held so much charm and romance to him that his heart almost leaped out of his chest every time he got to spend time with Bea. 

Sanji had it bad. Really bad. He’d always make sure to make Bea the most exquisite meals, showering her with incredible desserts and cocktails - never leaving his beloved Nami-Swan or Robin-Chwan on the side, of course - and she seemed to revel in his attention just as much as he did in hers. 

So then, why had he ruined it all? During that final confrontation with Bea, he should have begged for her forgiveness. Told her more convincingly that she was the one for him, that he’d already imagined the two of them walking down the aisle, that while he owed Nami-Swan and Robin-Chwan his affection too, they’d always be his nakama first and foremost, while Bea… well, she was his everything. But he had been weak. Weak, weak and stupid. He'd been so shocked to hear her cruel words, so panicked to hear her say the things she did, that he'd been unable to properly function. Unable to think things through and make the right decisions to keep his beloved Bea by his side. He'd wanted nothing more to get down on his knees, pleading with her to give him another chance.

And yet, he’d made her unhappy. He’d made her feel like she wasn’t special to him, like she was interchangeable with any other woman. He’d completely and utterly failed in his job as her boyfriend and future husband. 

Worst of all, Bea had acted like they were just… just lovers. Some passing fling, nothing too noteworthy. She’d claimed to be one of his many lovers. Didn’t she realize how deeply he felt for her? How he’d completely and utterly given her his heart? 

Her words echo in his mind, sharp pain coursing through his chest as he remembers them - “You’re a total player, Sanji, just admit it.”

A player. Had he not told her how much he adored her, every single day? Every hour, whenever possible? And besides, they were boyfriend and girlfriend, right? How could he be a player when they’d been dating each other so happily? 

He’d kept showering Nami-Swan and Robin-Chwan with affection and treats, sure, but he’d never once even thought of being disloyal. Okay, maybe he tried to sneak some peaks into the girls’ bathroom once or twice, but Bea had been in there too, so it was totally excusable! 

But perhaps it was not all over. As much as Sanji had spent his days just staring at the walls in his kitchen, mourning over what he’d lost and what he’d done wrong to lose it, Bea had shown him that she was ready to forgive him. 

She’d made him a meal as an apology. “Foie de poulpe et serpent de mer”, a dish way too complicated for somebody without cooking experience, as she’d shown to be. From an objective standpoint, it had tasted terrible and it had made him sick later that night, but it had been cooked with love from Bea, and that had made it a dish far more divine than anything he himself could ever have created. 

Sanji had personally bribed Usopp, Nami and Chopper to not say a word to Bea after all of them had been sick that night too. Luffy, with his incredible metabolism and dubious methods of digestion, had been completely fine and practically begged Sanji to take on Bea as his apprentice, because in Luffy’s mind, two cooks meant twice the amount of meat. 

Sanji had entertained the idea for a while, getting lost in daydreams of maybe opening his own restaurant with Bea far, far in the future once Luffy had become King of the Pirates and he himself had found the All Blue. How delightfully beautiful she’d look in her cooking apron, with a chef hat to top it off. How he’d personally beat up every single lowlife who dared insult her cooking skills and prove to be a most valiant knight in shining armor for her. Even just thinking about it now, he sighs wistfully, dreaming of this future.

He’d make it up to her. There was no way he would get in the way of his own happy future with the woman he loved, and he’d be damned if he would really allow himself to ruin it all before they’d even gotten married to one another. 

That afternoon, Sanji spends a lot of time diving in the water at the shore of the island the Merry is currently docked at. He was just swimming for leisure earlier when he’d discovered some beautiful shells under water, and he had immediately decided to craft a bracelet for his beloved Bea and give it to her as a form of apology. Initially it had been a rather doable task, but after he’d already found the prettiest shells near the shore he’d had to go deeper and deeper into the ocean, looking for more. 

The shells had become more scarce the further he’d gone, and eventually, much to his dismay, he’d asked the mosshead for help. Zoro had been training near the shore anyways, and seeing as freediving classified as some sort of training too, the two of them had set out to find more shells together. 

Sanji didn’t mind Zoro that much. He was stupid, a jerk, didn’t respect women enough, and his haircolour was straight up offensive to the eyes, but when he asked him for help with anything, even though they usually bickered constantly, Zoro’d help without even a second question. Just plenty of insults to the chef's eyebrows. 

Eventually, the two of them take a break. Sanji had insisted on it so they wouldn’t get even the slightest hints of diver’s disease, not wanting to rope Zoro into something that could potentially harm him, especially knowing of Zoro’s stubborn nature when it came to training. 

They hadn’t talked about the reason for Sanji’s search for shells yet, but Zoro’s figured it out regardless. He speaks quietly, laying on the beach on the shore beside Sanji. “So you’re gonna gift Bea some shells, I guess?” 

Sanji sighs wistfully. “I want to make her a bracelet with only the most beautiful shells I can find. Maybe she’ll forgive me for what I’ve done then.” 

Zoro turns his head around and frowns at Sanji. “What you’ve done? She was the one who threw the jealous fit and ended things between you two just cause she couldn’t handle you bringing Nami and Robin their usual cocktails.” 

Sanji’s eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly. “What, no! I did shower Nami-Swan and Robin-Chwan with too much affection. I made Bea feel like she wasn’t enough, and that’s unforgivable. Don’t dwell on it, mosshead, it’s not like you know much of romance to begin with.” 

Zoro just grunts in response before getting up and resuming the search for seashells together with Sanji. 

They spend a few days doing this, the crew thankfully being docked at the island for a while, allowing the two of them to engage in their search. Sanji would have hated having to leave and needing to use different shells from other places, he wants this gift - and his apology - to be nothing short of perfect. 

Once he’s finally crafted the bracelet, having asked Usopp and Franky for some help to make sure it’s very durable and won’t fall apart quickly, Sanji approaches Bea. He’s got a cocktail and a light snack on his tablet, approaching her with his usual suave confidence, even while his heart is fluttering nervously in his chest.

"Beatrice.", he addresses her. Oh, how he loves saying her name. It's like honey on his tongue, a name truly befitting of an angel like her. 

Bea turns around to him, giving him a hesitant smile. "Yeah?" 

"I've got something for you." Sanji quickly pulls up a table onto which he places the cocktail and snack, and before he can think better of it, he adds: "And something else as well." 

He gets down on one knee, presenting the bracelet on the palm of his hand. "I would like to gift you this bracelet as a form of apology. The way I acted was entirely uncalled for, I never intended to make you feel so bad. I humbly beseech you to forgive me for my misdeeds and give me another chance if you can find it within the kindness of your heart, oh sweet beloved Beatrice." 

Bea's eyes widen considerably. "O-oh, Sanji. Thank you. I accept your apology. You did hurt me pretty bad. So you won't swoon over Nami and Robin anymore now?" 

Something inside Sanji's chest starts to painfully clench when his apology is met with the confirmation that he did indeed hurt her so much. How can he claim to want to be anyone's knight in shining armor when he could possibly hurt the woman he loves? Is he really so faulty? Doesn't he pride himself on treating every lady with nothing but utmost respect? How did it come to this? 

And more importantly, how on earth is he supposed to promise not to swoon over Nami and Robin anymore now? They're his nakama, his dearest friends, and they just so happen to be the prettiest women in the entire world right after Beatrice, followed only by the snake empress that had become so fond of Luffy. Which Sanji still hadn't entirely gotten over. How'd that monkey score a woman like her? 

He bites the inside of his cheek and bows his head. "Yes, mon ange. I promise I will not swoon over Nami-swan or Robin-chwan anymore." He feels like he's betraying himself and his core values even as he says it, but he can't help himself. He's so madly in love with Bea, and if this is what it will take to win her affection back, then he'll do it. 

Bea's eyes narrow and she almost glares at him. "Nami and Robin. Not Nami-Swan and Robin-Chwan." 

Sanji gulps and meets her eyes as he responds. "Y... Yes. Nami... and Robin." He's not sure if he's ever spoken their names so disrespectfully. They're basically goddesses, how could he call their names so disrespectfully, without expressing his admiration through the suffixes? But this is what Beatrice needs in order for him not to hurt her with his behaviour. It is still a sacrifice in the name of love. It's fine, Sanji repeatedly tells himself. Maybe he can still call them Nami-swan and Robin-chwan when Bea isn't there. Or would that be betraying her too? Would she find out through the others and then feel hurt, still? His mind's racing with these new developments, and he finds himself surprised at how queasy he feels, even if he's agreeing to things that will hopefully bring Bea back into his arms. 

Bea crosses her arms. "Okay. You're on probation. If you show me that you mean it for a full week then you can be my lover again." 

Her... her lover? Sanji's face falls. She's making demands of this sort just for being her lover? Does she not realize how much she is asking of him? How willingly he'll sacrifice this for their love, even as she's writing it all off as a simple... love affair?

Beatrice takes the bracelet from the palm of his hand and inspects it closely. "It's pretty. Where'd you buy it?" 

Sanji blushes ever so faintly, a little overwhelmed by the entire situation. "I didn't. I collected all of the shells myself and then Franky and Usopp helped me stabilize the bracelet so it'll be durable even through extreme situations." 

Bea nods, seeming only vaguely impressed. "Ah. So that's why you've been going swimming so much. This is pretty nice. Thank you, Sanji." She gives him a smile and Sanji helps her put the bracelet on, his fingers trembling ever so slightly as he touches her wrist while closing the bracelet around it.

"You know, the reason that I react so negatively around you fawning over our fellow crewmates even though we're just lovers is that I've been hurt before. A lot. My previous long-term boyfriend cheated on me. Multiple times. Hell, there was barely any time where he wasn't cheating on me. So I'm a little cautious when it comes to this sort of stuff. You understand, right?" She flashes him a wide, disarming smile and Sanji can feel his heart doing somersaults in his chest at just how beautiful she is, the way she gets these cute dimples when she smiles.

It takes him a short moment for him to come back to his senses and he immediately takes on a concerned and sympathetic look. "Of course, mon amour. I'm so sorry to hear that you have been hurt like that. You deserve only the best, and whoever that boyfriend was, he could live a thousand livetimes and never deserve you." After a short moment, he adds: "But darling, is that really all we are to you? Lovers? I'd go to the ends of the earth for you. You own my heart, body and soul. You could do me no greater honor than becoming my wi- I mean, girlfriend." He barely catches himself before this becomes incredibly embarassing. 

If he didn't know any better he'd have thought that Bea's expression had just turned decidedly greedy at his promises. But that doesn't make any sense, he must have just imagined it. 

Granted the depth of his confession, he'd have expected some big response, but all he gets is Bea staring at him in shock. "Uh. You wanna be my boyfriend?" 

Sanji's heart feels like it's made out of glass. He's praying that he's not said too much, that he's not pushed her too far, especially if she struggles with trust after that asshole ex of hers hurt her so much. "Yes, Beatrice. Please. I promise to cherish you now and forever. I will be loyal to you for as long as I draw breath." 

It's like watching a robot switch between emotions. First there was shock, then there was vulnerability, then there was greed, and now she appears to switch to a softer side of her. 

"Yes, Sanji. I'd like that. I- I want to be your girlfriend too." Her smile is almost coy now as she smiles at him bashfully. 

He can't believe it. She's actually said yes. SHE SAID YES! Sanji is so elated that he immediately picks her up by her waist and spins her around in pure, unbridled joy. "Really?! Really!! Oh, mon ange, you have just made me the happiest man in the world! I will treat you like nothing short of the goddess you are, and strive to make you happy with each breath I draw!" 

He does three happy little twirls with her before setting her back down and taking both of her hands into his own. "We should celebrate. I'll make you your favourite meal tonight. What would you like? No matter what. I'll make as much as you want. And I'll make sure to hide it all away from Luffy so that greedy bastard doesn't gobble up all of it before you've had your fill." 

Throughout the entire preparation of the meal and the following feast, Sanji is on cloud nine. He's singing happily while cooking on his own in the kitchen, spins around on the spot and dances happily even whenever the other Strawhats are watching. 

His pure elation and joy quickly spreads to the rest of the crew with the exception of two. Luffy, Usopp, Brook and Chopper are up on the tables singing shanties and dancing around with sticks in their noses the second their dishes are empty (and everyone else's too, as far as Luffy was concerned).

Bea's happiness is more subdued in contrast to Sanji's infectious happiness. The crew has never heard him laugh quite as much and crack quite as many jokes, usually he's far too busy upholding his suave look, but tonight he couldn't be any happier if he tried. 

He manages to keep his promises for now, treating Nami and Robin cordially and only ever so slightly better than the rest of the crew, avoiding to say their names so they won't know of him not using the respectful suffixes anymore. 

But amidst all the chaotic happiness spread amongst the crew, there are two that do not join in anywhere near as much as the others. 

Zoro, usually the first to drink himself to a happily blissful state, is drinking moderately, something that has previously been unheard of. He's laughing along with the crew ocassionally but for most of the night his eyes stay trained on Beatrice. Both Zoro's lack in alcohol consumption and his laser focus on Bea are things that Sanji notices, not less attentive due to his immense happiness, but he doesn't comment on it for now. 

Every now and then Zoro and Robin exchange conspiratory looks between the two of them - something seems to be worrying them quite a bit, even as everybody else is happily enjoying the celebration.

Chapter 4: Appetizer

Summary:

Bea and Sanji have started going out (and this time both of them are aware of it). What challenges lay ahead for this new couple?

Notes:

I'm so sorry that this took so long for me to write! Christmas time has been horribly busy, but I hope that the chapter's quality will make up for the long wait. We've got enough angst to feed a whole village!   Content warnings: Explicit, talking about Sanji and Bea's sex life (but not actual smut, if ya get me?), harassment, consensual roughhousing and abuse

Throughout the following two weeks, Sanji feels like he's in heaven.  He didn't know that he could possibly become any happier than during his previous time (thinking he was) dating Bea, but it very much is possible. 

Every morning he wakes her up with her favourite snack, tells her that he'd be more than happy to bring her breakfast to her bed if she so wished. 

When he's not busy working in the kitchen he's constantly hovering around her, making sure not to be too intrusive but always at least in close-enough proximity to fulfill her every wish at so much at a word falling from her lips. 

Frankly, Bea does keep him pretty busy. She's incredibly demanding, asking for snacks at the most impossible times, even whenever he's already left the kitchen for the day and is looking forward to winding down with his beautiful girl in his arms. 

But he never complains, not even once. Not whenever she asks him for ridiculous amounts of berri to spend on jewelry (which she doesn't even pretend she'll ever pay him back), not when she tells him that his cooking used to be better (which makes him try to work even harder), not whenever she'll randomly push him out of bed and call him a pervert when all he'd done was hold her close and marvel at her beauty. 

Daft as he may sometimes be around women, Sanji isn't stupid. He's aware of her behaviour not being okay, but he brushes it off as a meager price to pay in order to get to date her. 

One thing he cannot brush off, however, is whenever he sees Bea hang out with Zoro more and more. 

He'll catch her watching the swordsman work out, giving him some of the snacks Sanji had made for her whenever she's already full, talking with Zoro more and more. 

One evening, when Beatrice had promised him that the two of them would hang out after he'd finished washing the dishes, she doesn't show up in his quarters. 

Sanji heads out to the deck looking for her and is about to call out her name when the words die in his throat. 

He can hear Beatrice's laughter echoing down from the crow's nest, the usually so beautiful symphony of her angelic voice tainted by a much deeper, masculine voice. Zoro's. 

Sanji freezes in his tracks. Did she forget about their planned meeting? He knows Zoro's on night watch, so it makes sense for him to be up in the crow's nest. But why is Bea there? 

And what are they laughing about? 

Sanji takes off his shoes, careful not to make a single noise as he starts to ascend the ropes towards the crow's nest. Overhearing a lady's conversation isn't something he thought he'd ever do, but he can't help himself. His heart feels like it's being squeezed to death by a sea king just hearing Bea laughing with Zoro like this. 

It gets worse, however. Once he's close enough to overhear their conversation, his heart actively skips a beat. Then two. Then three. 

Bea's words are so callous, so cruel. "Yeah, and do you see how stupid he looks every time he's fawning over me? Like his nostrils go super wide and honestly he looks more like a pig than a man." She even snickers. 

Zoro's words are a lot more controlled, more held back. "He certainly does look a lot like his wanted poster." 

Sanji's hands tighten around the ropes so tightly that the rope starts cutting into his hands. A shiver goes down his body from thinking of that thrice-cursed ugly wanted poster. 

Bea continues. "And oh my god he's so touchy. Ugh. So annoying. No wonder everyone calls him a pervert. He totally is one. Doesn't keep his hands off of me even for a second when we're in private. If I didn't love him I'd call it harassment." 

This time Sanji is glad for Bea's callous laughter, because it serves well to be loud enough to mask the choked sob that escapes him. It's not true. Is it? He's always made sure to be so polite towards Bea. To ask her multiple times if she was interested in doing anything intimate on each respective night. Respecting her sometimes arbitrary seeming reasons for denying him even basic physical proximity. 

How could she think of him like this? Like his tender, loving touch was harassing. It takes him all he has to remain quiet and surpress his sobs as he hangs there on the ropes, silently crying. 

To his surprise, Zoro's voice can be heard defending him. "Really. He doesn't strike me as the type. More like he'd be too scared to hurt a girl's feelings to even do anything with her in the first place." 

Okay, that's not great either. Zoro's basically calling him a virgin, but still, he's surprised to hear the mosshead defend him in the first place. From his very own girlfriend, no less. 

Bea snorts derisively. "Yeah? I'm still sore. Man doesn't give me any rest at night, like ever. Chopper's given me something to numb the pain, at least, but yeah. He doesn't hold back. He's too much of a pervert to care about his partner's comfort." 

Zoro just huffs in response. 

Sanji's not sure if he can listen to this any longer. That can't be right. It absolutely can't be. He's always been so gentle with Bea. Sure, she'd asked him to be really rough with her a few nights ago, but that was after she'd specifically requested that multiple times. He'd asked for her permission countless times, and every time she'd asked him to hit her he'd felt a piece of his heart crumple and die. 

He wouldn't hit a woman. Ever. But Bea was his girlfriend. And had specifically told him that she was into being hit and mistreated, as being used as less than. So he'd sacrificed his morals, his number one priority, to make her happy. He had cried during the act and felt so utterly repulsed with himself, but Bea hadn't noticed, her back being turned to him. He'd taken the next day off, pretending to be sick, crying bitter tears in his quarters, hating himself for what he'd done. At her request. With her permission. But still, he'd hit a woman. His woman. He didn't deserve to call himself a man anymore. 

And now she was telling Zoro that... what? That he was a mindless brute? Completely indifferent to her well-being and comfort. Had he made her feel this way? But she'd been begging him for some roughhousing. He was a disgusting piece of shit for complying, but that's what she had wanted. Had he missed signs of her secretly telling him to stop? But they had established a safe word, which she hadn't used. His mind is spinning and not only that, it feels like the world is spinning around him. Not the best condition to be in when currently suspended in mid-air, clinging to some ropes. 

He falls. He can't even remember letting go of the ropes, but apparently he has. The last thing he sees is the crow's nest of the Going Merry, getting smaller and smaller in the distance as the air rushes by around him. 

He hits the deck with a resounding thud and then everything turns to black. 

Chapter 5: Salad

Summary:

After falling off the ropes of the Going Merry and hitting the deck hard, Sanji has been unconscious. A little bit of a wholesome Strawhat get-together before we jump into the deep end of angst once again. Content warning: Suicidal suspicions

Notes:

If not for @mere-mortifer, this fic would be receiving far less love from me than it is. Thank you so very, very much for always commenting, you make torturing Sanji through Bea so much more fun and I'm so glad we can enjoy some heavy angst together!   I've decided to throw out another chapter right away! Consider it my apology for being so inconsistent with the updates.

He's dreaming. 

It's a swirl of different dreams, short snapshots of his family and the loneliness he's felt, intermixed with snapshots of his time with the Strawhats, of finally having a found family he could call his own, snapshots of the island he'd spent so much time on in complete isolation, waiting for a ship to come rescue them together with Zeff. And Bea. Beautiful, lovable Bea, the girl he married. He can see the wedding ceremony and the beautiful tiny little girl they had, who inherited Sanji's blonde hair and Bea's beautiful eyes. 

When he finally wakes up from days of laying in a coma he's rather disoriented by being met with Zoro's grey eyes rather than Bea's. He blinks rapidly and groans. "Mosshead?" 

Zoro's previously stoic expression widens into a small, but genuine smile. "Oh thank god, curly brows." 

Before Sanji can even fully register what's happening, big, strong arms have enveloped him and it feels like he's being squeezed to death. He wheezes helplessly as Zoro seems intent on forcing every single bit of air out of his lungs in a crushing hug. 

"C-Can't... can't breathe...", he finally manages to get out, and Zoro's grip lessens. He lets Sanji back down onto the sick bed, and looks at him with a frown. "You had us all worried to death, idiot." 

"What happened?" 

Zoro's gaze darkens. "I'd like you to tell me that. I was out on night watch when suddenly I heard a loud noise. When I checked, you were there, laying on the deck, looking like..." He averts his eyes and his voice quiets down. "Looking like you were dead". 

Sanji's mind is foggy and so is his memory. He frowns. "I- So I fell onto the deck? Why?" 

Zoro grimaces, meeting Sanji's eyes steadily, worry in his. "Bea said you jumped." 

Sanji's eyes widen in shock. "What? She said what? Why would I?"

Zoro shrugs, looking away again. "How the hell should I know? You're the one that was suddenly on the deck. And you'd taken off your shoes. We've all been worried sick." 

"I'd taken off my...? Huh?" 

Zoro shrugs again. "Robin said that that might have some significance, but she wasn't sure." After a short pause he adds. "Do you want me to get you anything? Or should I get Chopper?"

Sanji shakes his head. "No, I'll talk to Chopper later. Have you been here for long?" 

Zoro clears his throat. "Nah. Just thought I'd check in. You've been out cold for five whole days. Obviously I've not been by your side all that time." The forced laugh that comes after sounds so unnatural and so unlike Zoro that Sanji isn't sure if maybe he might still be dreaming. 

"Right. Where's Bea?" 

Zoro looks almost angry at the question. "Fuck if I know. Sorry to tell you, curly brows, but she's not been here once since the first day. Everyone else has been here, taking shifts. Luffy tried to stuff some meat down your throat a few times thinking it would fix you, but we thankfully prevented him from suffocating you like that."

It sounds so much like something Luffy would do that Sanji can't help but smile, even through the pain of knowing of Bea's absence.

Zoro continues. "Nami and Robin were here a lot too. They took turns reading you stories. Chopper said that some of what we say might get through to your subconscious and have a positive effect on your healing. Which isn't a proven theory, he says, but it'd be worth a shot. Anyways, it gave everyone something to do besides just worry about you. Usopp and Luffy were singing you songs about recovering that they made up themselves. You can be glad that you missed that, it was god awful." 

Sanji's brows crease in confusion. "Wait. How do you know all this? If you haven't been here the entire time." 

Zoro stares at him for a few seconds. "Uh. Cause we've been talking about you and what to do all the time. Obviously. Idiot cook." 

"Right." 

The two stare at each other silently until the silence becomes super uncomfortable and they both have to look away. 

Eventually, Zoro gets up. "Right. I guess I'll go get Chopper." 

He leaves quickly. Sanji notices that Zoro's three swords are laying on the sofa in the room, as if Zoro had been sleeping here. Come to think of it, Zoro leaving without taking his swords with him? He must be really out of it. 

Chopper comes in shortly after, beaming at Sanji. "Sanji! I'm so glad you're okay. There wasn't much I could do for you, all that we could do was sit around and wait for you to wake up again. How are you feeling?" 

After letting Chopper check him through thoroughly, Sanji feels like he has to address the elephant in the room. "I- I wouldn't have jumped. You know that, right? You guys are my family. I wouldn't do that to you. Not in a million years." 

Chopper nods and smiles at Sanji. "Yeah. Zoro said the same thing. Honestly, it was only really Bea that believed that theory. Robin was telling us all about the likelihood of suicidal ideation which made everyone super uncomfortable, but I don't think she actually believed in that either. After all, you're our Sanji, right?" Chopper laughs awkwardly, clearly at unease with the topic. 

Sanji reaches over and ruffles the fur on Chopper's head, the reindeer not wearing his signature hat at the moment. "Yeah. I'm your Sanji." 

Chopper seems greatly relieved at the reassurance, bouncing off the chair he'd pulled up. "Right! You can get up any time you want. Might feel a little dizzy at first from your circulation being so out of practise, so please take this cane. I know it looks silly, but just to make sure." Chopper runs to the corner of the room before coming back with a highly overcomplicated-looking metal cane with a few buttons on its side. 

Sanji smiles at Chopper warmly. "Well, if you say so, I'll make sure to use it. I'd be a fool to ignore our awesome doctor's advice after all." 

Chopper beams and flails his body around happily. "Oh shut up, you moron! I can totally see what you're doing, buttering me up. That won't work on me! Hehe." 

Chopper leaves him alone to do as he prefers after that, and Sanji uses the cane to get up. After the initial dizziness, he quickly regains his strength by practising his steps. 

He's feeling a little overwhelmed by everything, but at least his memory is finally clearing up on what had happened before. He'd heard... Zoro talking to Bea. Was that it? It feels right. 

But why would he have fallen? Did Bea see him jump? Is that why she assumes he did? 

He sighs, leaning heavily on the cane as he pauses. Nothing makes sense as of yet. Maybe talking to Bea would solve this mystery. But he can't deny that he doesn't exactly feel excited to talk to Bea. He'd been so eager to see her again right after waking up, but if what Zoro said is true... 

One single visit. In five days? He hates himself for comparing the situation to the reverse, but he would have spent every single waking minute at Bea's bedside. He'd have moved her sick bed into the kitchen to continue watching over her even as he took care of his duties of cooking for the ever-insatiable crew. 

He's not asking for too much. Is he? After all, they're not just friends. Bea is his girlfriend. Or... wife? Where's the image of her at the altar coming from? He shakes his head, feeling confused, but checks his ring finger just to make sure. Nothing. Okay, so he's not married. 

Still, married or not, she should have been there for him more. Is it because she thinks he jumped? Does she resent him for thinking he wanted to leave her behind? 

Sanji feels exhausted. He's slept for five days straight, but he doesn't feel like he has the energy to deal with Bea right now. That thought in and out of itself just drains him even further. That his own girlfriend, someone he loves with all his heart, is a burden to deal with. It makes tears well up in his eyes which he quickly swipes away. Damn fall, making him emotional like this. 

He finally makes his way out of the infirmary, only to immediately be floored by an overly enthusiastic Luffy. "SANJIIIIIII!!!!!! YOU'RE OKAY!" Luffy's basically yelling, wrapping his long rubber arms around Sanji and lifting him back up. His eyes are shining with excitement and relief. 

Sanji huffs. "Not if you send me to the floor like that, I'm not.", but he can't help but start smiling at the infectious energy. And when he looks around, all of the others are there too. Nami, Robin, Zoro, Chopper, Usopp and Luffy have all gathered to welcome him back to the land of the living. 

Robin's many devil fruit arms pass a "get well soon" card over to him, which he takes into his hands, smiling at what appears to be Robin's self-made drawing of some kittens nursing him back to health.

Nami has apparently baked a muffin with some decoration resembling Sanji's hair style which she's holding in her hands on a plate, beaming at him in relief and waving him hello.

Usopp has a manual in his hands about all of the awesome features that Sanji's cane has (which is another great invention by the amazing Captain Usopp TM). 

Zoro steps forward, patting Sanji on the shoulder. "Good to have you back, waiter. Finally we don't need to eat the crappy food Nami and Usopp have been putting together anymore." 

He goes down quickly after suffering a hit by Nami, who shouts at him. "Yeah then you try and make better food yourself next time! You didn't even try to help!" 

Sanji can't help but smile widely. His crew. His family. And when he spots Beatrice making her way towards the group, he feels such a huge weight lift off of him, that he nearly starts crying there and then. 

"Beatrice." He gazes at her lovingly. She's even more beautiful than he remembers her. 

"Hey there. Glad to see you up and about again. Gave us all a good scare." She's smiling back at him, and all of the rest of the world fades away at the sight of it. 

The other Strawhats discreetly slink back, Nami giving Sanji a wink before removing herself from the picture. 

Sanji hesitantly takes a step closer to Bea, but she moves towards him on her own already, pulling him into a big hug. It's a lot more tender and gentle than Zoro's was, this time Sanji can't feel any ribs cracking from the force alone, thankfully. 

The amount of relief he feels at her hug, at the proof that she does care, it's overwhelming. He'd felt so vulnerable, so scared of there being an issue between the two of them since he'd woken up again, but the hug reassures him and makes him feel safe once again. 

"Missed you", he murmurs into her hair, breathing in her scent like a man starved. 

She chuckles. "I thought you've been out cold for the past five days? If anything I was the one missing you." His heart soars with joy just hearing those simple words. 

"Really? You missed me?" 

"Of course I did, you big dummy. I was so scared you weren't going to wake up anymore." 

He rests his chin on top of her head. "I dreamt of you. A lot." 

"Good things, I hope?" 

He huffs. "Of course good things. You're the love of my life, I'd never dream or think ill of you." 

Bea hums. "Just making sure." 

She pulls back and looks at him, smiling. "You must be starving. Come, I made you something." 

He follows her to the kitchen, where everything is in far more disarray than he'd ever let it get to. Never having cooked in his kitchen before Usopp and Nami seem to not have known where to put most of the utensils back, so there a plenty of pans and pots standing around. At least they've been cleaned. 

On one of the kitchen counters lays what appears to be a simple ham and cheese sandwhich, accompanied by a bowl of suspiciously inedible looking salad. Bea presents the two things proudly. "Here! Something with some kick to it and some nutritious vegetables." 

He smiles and thanks her awkwardly, but eats dilligently. There's so much salad dressing that the hair on the back of his neck stands up straight from disgust, but he tries not to let it show and finishes the whole bowl before eating the sandwhich as well. 

He can't wait to get back into the kitchen and save himself from Bea's culinary horrors again. At least the muffin that Nami had made looked really tasty, he's very much looking forward to eating that. Just thinking about how his beloved Nami-Swan took the time and care to bake him something, and even decorate it with a silly piece representing his hair, it could make him swoon with happiness. Unfortunately, he did actually swoon a little bit, earning him a hefty smack on the head from Bea. "What the hell are you thinking about?!" She looks positively vicious, and Sanji is reminded of that phrase he once read in an old book: "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned". 

He quickly clears his throat and smiles apologetically. "Sorry, my darling. Your salad is simply swoon-worthy." Her eyes narrow in mistrust, but she lets it go for now. 

Sanji can't help but let out a sigh. It's not been that long, and he's already pissed her off again. Couldn't she at least give him a bit longer of a recovery period before getting mad at him again?

Her furious voice reminds him of something. Something he'd tried to forget. A cruel and callous voice, making a horrible comment. Multiple horrible comments. 

He flinches as if struck, staring at Beatrice. "You told Zoro I'd hurt you." The memory comes rushing back to him. The horrible conversation he'd overheard. Resulting in the fall. 

Beatrice seems a little confused at the sudden change in topic, but quickly gathers herself. "Huh? But you did hurt me, darling. Don't you remember?" Her smile is so sweet, so kind. 

And she's right. He had hurt her, hadn't he? He'd hit her. Multiple times. Out of his own free will. No devil fruit or other outside force controlling his actions. His own hands, striking at her face, her beautiful, beautiful body that he so adored. 

His eyes widen with shock as he remembers it all. Tears well up involuntarily as he stares at her, lips quivering. "Oh god. Oh god, my darling, I'm so sorry. How could I hurt you? How could I do that to you?" 

Bea's eyes become calculating as she fixes him with a glare. "Because you're no more than your base instincts, Sanji. You were like an animal. It's been a week and a half and the bruises are only now disappearing. I had to lie and cover for you to Nami and Robin when they saw them in the shower, you know? The things I do for you." 

He wants to reach out to her, but his hand freezes mid-air. A choked sob escapes his throat as he starts begging. "My darling. Oh god. I don't know why- Why I would do something to you- you deserve so much better, you don't deserve to be treated like that, I'm so sorry, so, so, so damn sorry, please, please forgive me, I can't- I don't-", he trails off, not even knowing what he's saying anymore as his vision becomes blurry due to his tears. 

Beatrice steps closer, her hand finding Sanji's arm and stroking it up and down. "Ssh. It's okay. I forgive you. If you make it up to me." 

He's practically whimpering at this point. "Anything. I'll do anything. Oh god, darling, Beatrice, mon ange, I'm so sorry. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, I don't know how I could treat you this way. You poor, innocent angel. I'm so sorry." 

"Ssh." She shushes him once more. "It's okay, darling. You are but a man, at the end of the day. Barely more than an animal." 

Beatrice guides him to his room, where he falls asleep sobbing desperately against her chest, so eager for the comfort she provides. So desperate for the reassurance that he's not a monster. 

She holds him against her body, speaking soothingly, stroking his back, smiling to herself at just how dependent he's going to become on her from this point forth. 

Chapter 6: Poisson

Summary:

Poisson = Fish in French. These chapter titles are as close to culinary knowledge as I'll ever get. Zoro confronts Sanji.

Notes:

So yeah! Third chapter in one day. Don't ask me how. Guess it's all just one big writing flow. Originally I wanted to make the chapter a little longer, but I don't think there's any more to get out of Zoro's POV right at this moment, so we'll end it there to have a smooth swap back to our dysfunctional couple next time.

Zoro is starting to get seriously worried about Sanji. He's always been a bit stupid in the head - no wonder with ridiculous eyebrows like that - but Beatrice has been a terrible influence on him. And since Sanji's jump, fall, whatever it was, things have only become worse. So much worse. 

Sanji has started bending over backwards for Beatrice at every turn. He's made the crew wait for their meals, has neglected his night shift, even once insulted Robin at Beatrice's command. After which he'd profusely apologized and cooked Robin twenty different snacks to make up for it, but still. 

Sanji has changed, and Zoro's not the only one who can see it. But Zoro is the most worried. 

Nami's mostly shrugged the issue of as Sanji being a simp as per usual and has promised that if things stay the same or get worse, she'll have a word with Beatrice. 

Zoro has been talking to Robin about the issue a lot, but that hasn't exactly been helpful. In fact, it's made Zoro's worries just that much worse, but no wonder, with how many books on abuse and manipulation Robin had produced and started citing. Smart as he may be, Zoro had been completely overwhelmed with the sheer amount of information Robin had provided. Besides, Beatrice was a crewmate. She wouldn't have any reason to want to abuse and manipulate Sanji. She probably just had really shitty manners, social skills and no idea how to act in a relationship. Zoro still thought he'd be able to set her straight with a firm talking-to. 

Sanji has certainly been deaf to Zoro's words, no matter how many times Zoro tried to breach the subject. In fact, Sanji won't talk about Beatrice with him at all. He seems almost... scared, whenever Zoro brings her up. Not scared of Beatrice, but scared of Zoro. He's never acted that way before, and the two of them still bicker and fight normally outside of conversations about Beatrice, so Zoro's got no idea what the hell's going on. 

Zoro thinks back to that conversation he'd had with Beatrice in the crow's nest a lot. After that point, he hadn't really seen Sanji act normally anymore.

How Beatrice had told him all those vile things about Sanji. That he hadn't respected her comfort and properly abused her. Which Zoro doesn't believe any more now than he did then. 

But the true question is - why does Beatrice want him to believe that that is the truth? What on earth would she gain by making Zoro think Sanji was abusive. 

He's been more docile, more obedient towards Beatrice as of late, yes. But abusive? Zoro can't imagine that, no matter how hard he tries. 

As inofficial first mate of the crew, he feels that it is his duty to fix this. Luffy's too much of an airhead to ever suspect one of his friends of doing any evil, so it's up to Zoro. 

Zoro catches Sanji on his own as he's currently fishing on one side of the Going Merry. Luffy and Usopp are fishing on the other side. Zoro grabs his fishing rod and sits down beside Sanji. 

Sanji doesn't acknowledge him, just stares out at the sea. Normally Zoro is the first to enjoy the silence while fishing, but he can't do that today. Not when there are important matters to discuss. 

"Sanji". Saying his name feels strange. He can't remember the last time he'd called him by his name, if ever. It's always been "curly brows", "idiot", "waiter", or some other variation. 

Sanji snaps his head around to look at Zoro, eyes narrowing as he looks at him and the unfamiliar greeting. "Zoro." It's just as jarring hearing his own name back from the blonde's lips. 

The two stare at each other in silence for a short while before Zoro finally continues. "You're not happy." 

He's not even sure why that's what he leads with. All his ideas of how to approach this, carefully talked through with Robin in advance, thrown out for saying something so simple and so stupid. Great job, Roronoa, he chides himself.

"I didn't know you were suddenly an expert on feelings." Sanji's remark lacks its usual bite. It's not an insult, just a neutral observation. 

The two sit and fish in silence for a while until Zoro finally manages to continue. "I'm not. But you... you worry me." 

Sanji scoffs, clearly about to say something like "Since when do you care about me" out of habit, but he stops himself and falls silent. Neither of them are used to this sort of straightforward talk. No usual bickering, no random insults to hurl at each other's heads for once. That they care for each other is a given anyways, making such a remark redundant. 

"There's nothing for you to worry about. I didn't jump." 

"That's not what I mean." 

Sanji scoffs. "Then what are you concerned about?" 

"I don't think Beatrice is good for you." There. Now he's said it. The cat's out of the bag, and as expected, Sanji tenses up. 

"You have no idea what's good for me." Sanji is immediately defensive. Not the best start. 

Zoro sighs deeply. "Sanji. I wouldn't bring this up if I wasn't seriously worried." 

Sanji's fists clench around the fishing rod. "You should be worried for Bea. Not for me." 

Z: "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

S: "It means that- oh, whatever. Just forget about it." 

Z: "How am I supposed to forget about that?" 

S: "I don't care. Just... do." 

Zoro huffs in frustration and turns towards Sanji. "Come on, man. Talk to me. I can't help you if you don't-"

Sanji cuts him off and glares at him. "I don't WANT your damn help!"

Zoro falls silent for a few moments. "I think you need help, whether you want it or not." 

Sanji basically snarls and grabs Zoro by his collar quickly. "I don't give a damn what you think. Leave me alone, mosshead." 

He's back to the insults. Back to the safe territory of insults and banter, not willing to open himself up to Zoro. 

Zoro shoves him back. "We're not done talking about this. Sanji." He deliberately uses his name, trying to regain that fragile balance they'd managed to uphold mere seconds ago. 

But Sanji's had it with him. He can't face what he's done. He can't face the fact that Zoro knows about what he did to Beatrice. He can't accept the fact that Zoro knows that he's a monster. Maybe he'll want to tell the crew. Maybe he's looking for Sanji to confess and then he'll tell everyone. And then they'll see him for what he truly is. A monster, a vile pig, a disgrace to his friends, to the crew. 

So Sanji attacks Zoro with a flurry of kicks, sending him flying into the wall a short distance away from them. 

Why didn't he defend himself? He'd had his swords right at his fingertips, and Sanji knows just how quick Zoro is able to draw them, as countless previous sparring sessions have proven to him. 

Yet he just took his kicks.

Zoro groans and sits upright against the wall, holding his stomach in pain. Sanji hadn't held back, attacking Zoro with the usual ferocity, fully expecting Zoro's quick response and blocking of the kicks. 

Luffy and Usopp come rushing over from the other side of the ship. Luffy yells. "What the hell happened?" 

Sanji just stands there, hands in the pockets of his trousers, staring at Zoro without a word. Zoro gets up and comes over to them. "Nothing. Nothing happened." 

But his face is still twisted in pain. Sanji can't stand to see Zoro like that so he snaps at him. "Why the hell didn't you parry my kicks, shitty swordsman?"

Zoro's eyes fix on Sanji's and he snaps back. "Cause I was talking to you, not fighting you, you damned moron." 

Usopp tries to make peace between the two. "Now calm down, both of you, I'm sure if we just-" 

"Oh shut the hell up, longnose.", Sanji snaps. Everyone falls silent. It's increasingly obvious just how much Sanji has changed over the course of the past few weeks. 

Luffy frowns. "Sanji. Zoro. Why?" 

Zoro grimaces. "I was trying to have a serious conversation with him."

Sanji barks back. "I never agreed to having a conversation with you." 

Luffy looks between the two, clearly at a loss for what to do. Emotional intelligence isn't exactly his strong suit, after all. 

Eventually he settles for a diplomatic: "You need to fix this. Between you. Whatever it is." 

Then he strolls off to rejoin Usopp. 

Sanji and Zoro are left standing there. Finally, Sanji relents. "Want me to get some ice for your stomach?"

"I'll live. I'd rather you talked to me." 

Sanji's gaze darkens. "I overheard you and Bea on the crow's nest."

"I don't believe her. The things she said about you. I don't believe a word of it." 

"Well, you should." 

Zoro's face falls. He'd expected anything but that. "No. I don't- You wouldn't." 

"I would. And I did." 

"No. Sanji. There's no way." Zoro tentatively reaches his hand out towards Sanji, unsure of what he even wants to do with it. 

"There is a way. That's who I am. Just look at yourself." Sanji points to Zoro's stomach where his kicks are bound to leave a few ugly bruises. 

"No. This is... This is Beatrice's fault. This isn't you." 

"Blaming the victim, are you? How mature of you." It's a low blow, and Sanji knows it. But the words are out before he can stop them, hurt flashing across Zoro's face. 

Zoro clenches his fists. "Dammit. Stop. Stop being someone else for her. You're acting the exact way she paints you out to be. Can't you see that?" 

Sanji scoffs. "The way she paints me out to be? You're being delusional. She's told you who I am. Who I've always been. You're just too damn stubborn and stuck in your preconceived notions to realise it." 

Zoro shakes his head. "No. I don't believe it. I'm not going to let her convince me of that too, even if she's got you fully subscribed to the idea." 

Sanji's eyes flash with anger. "Then be delusional. Just... just stay away from me. I don't want your sympathy and I damn well don't deserve it."

Zoro looks after him helplessly as Sanji departs. 

Chapter 7: First main course

Summary:

With a chapter title that imposing I feel a little pressured to produce a good chapter. Sanji and Zoro work to overcome their differences.

Notes:

We're stepping on cannon material now. I'm going off of my memory alone because I want this work to remain independent and not lose itself in making sure to be 100% accurate to the manga / anime, so if I remember things wrong, then hooray for unique plot. Is it the fourth chapter in one day? Yes. Do I know how to restrain myself? No. Will there eventually have to be a horribly long break again? Please no. Content warnings: Mention of harassment, violation, Beatrice's usual shenanigans

Things haven't been so merry anymore aboard the Going Merry. Not since the huge fight between Sanji and Zoro. 

They've barely spoken to each other since besides a few obligatory words and Zoro's "thank you"s when being given food by Sanji. 

Beatrice had asked Sanji for another session of roughhousing. At this point, Sanji barely even felt like he had a choice anymore. He was a monster, he was scum. He beat women, he didn't differentiate between gender, nor between whether or not he was in love with whom he hurt. He's glad Zeff can't see him as he is now. He knows the old geezer would be more than disappointed. He'd be thoroughly appalled. He'd probably tell him that a monster like him could never be his son. That he regretted saving him. That he regretted sacrificing his leg for Sanji. 

Sanji loses weight. A considerable amount. Nami and Robin try to talk to him, but Beatrice punishes him harshly every time he speaks to them by denying him physical proximity as well as the love and affection he so craves. So he avoids Nami and Robin when they try to speak to him. Every now and then a hint of the old Sanji will surface and he'll swoon over them, but those ocassions become more and more rare. 

Even Luffy has been trying to talk to him and fix things. But it's always a stalemate with him. Luffy believes in Sanji and won't listen to Sanji talk himself down. So they get nowhere. 

Usopp and Chopper try to talk to Sanji as well, but Beatrice intervenes before they manage to have any effect. She tells them that Sanji is going through a very difficult time after hitting her, and that he needs to be left alone for now. The two of them want to do what's best for Sanji, so they comply. 

In turn, Sanji is completely isolated. The only person he has left is Beatrice. The Strawhats feel more divided than ever and what was once a joyful crew is now filled with mistrust. 

Zoro and Luffy start having long conversations with each other. They both know that this isn't right, that something needs to be done. But they simply don't know what to do. 

Things get even worse when they come across a small island where they meet Marine Admiral Aokiji. A fight breaks out during which Zoro, Luffy and Robin become frozen, encased in ice. 

Zoro had taken the hit for Sanji, and in turn, Sanji feels even worse. He feels useless, like he's barely worth the title of fighter on the crew anymore, his reduced weight and stamina subtracting from the power of his kicks. He watches over Zoro the entire time while he is encased in ice. He feels terrible for Luffy and Robin as well, but it's worst with Zoro. Zoro's condition he feels personally responsible for. He spends day and night hugging the ice statue that Zoro has become, hoping to warm him up as quickly as possibly with his own body heat whenever the shower stall is occupied with trying to save Luffy and Robin. 

One morning after a long night spent hugging the ice-cold Zoro he wakes up to find a lot of fluffy fur surrounding him. Apparently Chopper had changed into another one of his forms - the "cuddle point", judging by the look of him - to make sure Sanji wouldn't become too cold during the night. The sight and knowledge of his crewmate's care for him brings a bittersweet smile to Sanji's lips. 

He removes himself from the bed, letting Chopper hug Zoro instead. He knows the reindeer won't mind the coldness of the ice, or at least he assumes so. He gazes down at his crewmates wistfully before returning to his own quarters. While he loves Chopper for looking out for him, he simply doesn't feel deserving of it anymore. 

The next morning, he's woken up by screaming aboard the ship. It's Usopp, shouting "THEY'RE AWAKE! THEY'RE ALIVE! OH MY GOOOOOOODDDDD!!!" 

Sanji immediately rushes over to the infirmary, where Luffy is already up and about, demanding meat, while Robin is sitting up in bed with a gentle smile on her face. His heart sings with joy seeing the two of them alive and well, but his eyes immediately train on Zoro who's sitting on the edge of his sick bed, yawning. 

He can't help himself. It's like his feet have a mind of their own, carrying him over to Zoro before he can stop them. He pulls Zoro into a massive hug, burying his face against his shoulder. 

"You idiot.", he mumbles. "Don't go tanking hits for me like that." 

Zoro just huffs, mildly surprised, but is quick to return the hug. 

It's their first real interaction since their fight. Sanji had constantly worried over their fight being the last time he'd ever spoken to Zoro. His mind had spiralled and practically gone mad with worry and grief. It would all have been his fault. 

To get to hug Zoro once more, to get to insult him, it's more than he thought he'd get. So when the tears come, he doesn't stop them. 

Zoro doesn't react in the slightest, just keeps on holding him tightly in the hug. Sanji feels incredibly grateful for Zoro's stoic demeanor in that moment, this way none of the crew need to see his tears or get to see his trembling frame in the first place. 

They stay intertwined like that even once the others have cleared out of the room, Luffy eager to raid the pantry (which Sanji doesn't even care about whatsoever for once) and Robin eager to give the two some time to talk to one another. 

Once he's at least somewhat calmed down, Sanji speaks up hesitantly. "I think you were right. I do need help. I- I keep getting worse." 

Zoro doesn't say much. Just: "I'm here." But it's all Sanji needs in that moment. He doesn't need big proclamations. He doesn't require some intricate exclamations that he knows Zoro would never be able to provide in the first place. All he needs is for Zoro to be there. And he is. 

After Sanji has calmed down and his sobs have quieted down somewhat, Zoro speaks up again. "Thank you. For trusting me." 

Sanji nods and gives Zoro a small, teary smile. "Thank you for becoming an ice statue for me." 

Zoro gives him a lopsided, shit-eating grin. "I like taking long naps." 

"Idiot". 

"You're the idiot." 

"True." 

Sanji eventually huffs. "We look like a couple." 

Zoro scoffs. "Well, we're more affectionate than you and that damn girlfriend of yours." 

Sanji doesn't protest. He feels safe with Zoro. Far safer than he's felt with Beatrice in a very long while. But he can't help but crack a small joke regardless. "No homo." 

Zoro actually laughs at that. "No homo." 

Sanji moves back, awkwardly situated in Zoro's lap as he looks up at the other man's eyes earnestly. "I- I'd like to lay off the fighting with you for a while entirely. Like not even any play-fights. Is that okay with you?" 

Zoro nods immediately. "Yeah. Sure. Guess you're tired of losing." 

Sanji can't help but grin. "In your dreams, marimo." Then he sighs and settles in comfortably with his flank to Zoro's stomach, head resting against his chest. "Hold me for a while." 

It's not exactly a plea, but not quite a demand either. Zoro complies either way, wrapping his arms around Sanji once more. "I got you." 

"I don't want to be so alone anymore. I've always felt like that was the difference between my fami- between before I met the crew, and being with the crew. That noone was ever alone. But now everyone feels so split apart and it sucks and I can't- it's hurting me.", Sanji confesses. 

"I'm here." Those two simple words again. The inflection slightly different, but the meaning is clear. Sanji won't need to feel alone anymore. He's got his best friend by his side. His demons won't be easy to fight, but who better to fight them with than the demon swordsman himself? He shakes his head and chides himself for being so cheesy. 

Zoro speaks carefully and slowly. "Tell me about how you hit Bea." 

Sanji tenses up. Is this conditional? Will Zoro take back his offer of being there whenever he confesses? "She- she said that was something she liked. In an intimate context. Th-that it turned her on whenever I hit her." 

Zoro scoffs. "And you just did what she asked? How spineless are you?" 

Sanji's completely rigid in Zoro's arms by this point. That's it. The thing he'd feared. Zoro's gonna hate him for this. They'll all hate him for this. "I-I wanted to make her happy, even if it was through that horrible way." 

Zoro sighs and his grip on Sanji tightens. "Damned moron. Just like you to make yourself unhappy for a damned girl. Throwing away all your core values."

Sanji's words are just as stiff as his body. "I don't need your judgement." 

"Yeah, well, you're getting it." 

They fall silent for a while after that. Zoro eventually breaks the silence. "So you never truly hit her. Not in the way she was trying to make it look like." 

"For all intents and purposes, I did in fact-" Sanji is cut off as Zoro's hand comes to rest over his mouth. "Shut up and listen to me." 

Sanji glares at him through narrowed eyes but doesn't fight against Zoro's hold on him. Zoro continues. "You did as she asked you to. If you weren't such a damn chivalrous moron this would never even have been an issue in the first place. I can't believe it escalated into something this big. Look at us. Whole crew's in fucking shambles. Just because of your sex life. How stupid is that?" 

There's something about the way Zoro had phrased that. Or maybe Sanji is simply becoming hysterical. Either way, he can't fight back a strained laugh escaping him. 

Zoro scoffs. "Yeah. Laugh it up. Idiot. Beatrice told the whole fucking crew that you were an abusive dickhead. That you basically violated her. What the fuck is her problem?" 

Sanji falls silent at that, staring down into the ground. When he speaks he's got himself under control again, speaking quietly. "I don't know, Zoro. I don't know. I've been trying to do everything I can to make her happy. I- I know I'm a horrible person for hitting her and that I should never have done what I did. B-but I'd never- I'd never have done anything she wasn't okay with. I asked for her permission so many times, please, you've got to-" 

Zoro shushes him by cradling him in his arms. "Shuddup. I never doubted you." 

"Never?" 

"Never." 

"What about when-" 

"Never." 

"Okay. I'll shut up." 

"Didn't think you had a brain cell in that huge head of yours." 

"I hate you." 

Notes:

Notes: Zoro only got frozen because of Sanji's reduced fighting strength. If Sanji was at 100% performance, things would have happened like they did in the series. Beatrice's manipulations are starting to take their toll on the Strawhat crew.   Mock summary: Sanji finds out that he has better shipping chemistry with Zoro than with his own girlfriend. He curses the author for saddling him with someone as dysfunctional as Beatrice and wishes to ride off into the sunset with Zoro. Mock summary 2: When all feels broken apart, a certain green-haired swordsman gets up, says "Nothing Happened" and everyone gets to move on. After writing their banter (and it being 4:22 AM) I feel way too unserious to continue on writing angst. Maybe that's why this became more of a wholesome ZoSan bonding time than more BeaSan angst. Oh well. Consider this a filler episode, maybe. Depending on how it'll continue.

Chapter 8: Palate cleanser

Summary:

Contrary to what I said before, I am going to go along with the cannon plot in regards to Water 7. I really like the arc and I can already see plenty of opportunities to weave in distaster and drama. Yay! Plus, I'll take any excuse to rewatch One Piece ^-^

"Look! That frog is doing the front crawl!" 

"Are you kidding?! Frogs don't do front crawls!"

"Well then look for yourself!" 

Beatrice yawns as she hears the commotion from the crew. She's currently resting on a sofa, legs put up on a stool in front of her, Sanji massaging her feet. 

It's a good look on him. Some men really were made to serve. Although she must admit that this one is almost boringly subservient. Never even fights back. 

It's a good thing, but she is starting to get a little bored with him. Maybe she should flirt with Zoro a little. Stir up some drama between those two. She's noticed how close Sanji and Zoro have been lately again and she does not like it one bit. After all the work she had put in to separate Sanji from the rest of the crew and the stupid swordsman comes in and ruins all of her efforts. Such a nuisance. 

Now that is one man who is no good to her at all. Shame that he's so strong. She'd love to dispose of him one way or another. 

He's been talking with Robin so much more lately, and he's been giving Beatrice dirty looks. He's probably plotting something. Best keep your enemies close, she ought to find out what it is he's planning. He doesn't appear particularly smart, how hard could it possibly be? That man can't even follow a straight road. 

Sanji smiles up at her softly and asks. "Would you like to see what-" 

But he's abruptly cut off as the entire ship shakes. It appears they've run into something. 

"What the hell?" Sanji frowns and wants to get up, but Beatrice calls him back. "Sanji. They can deal with it on their own. Stay." 

At least he's obedient. His one benefit, boring as he may be. "Okay, mon ange. As you wish." 

"Hard to starboard! We're gonna crash! Oh god!", Nami's panicked voice can be heard from above. 

Sanji shudders. It's so hard for him to ignore Nami's calls, but Beatrice ordered him to stay so stay he must. Else he'll lose Bea's affections again. He can't risk that. 

Loud noises can be heard from outside. If that wasn't just absolutely ridiculous Sanji would assume what he's hearing is a train. But they're out on sea, how could there possibly be a train? 

More panicked screaming can be heard from above as Nami orders around the crew to avoid the certain crash with what does decidedly sound like a train. 

The entire ship is thrown around as they can feel it plummet into the waves. Bea nearly falls off of the sofa, but Sanji manages to catch her in his arms just in time. 

He's very happy with himself for getting to save her, grinning stupidly as he loses himself in another fantasy of being her knight in shining armor, when Bea snaps him out of it. 

"Hey. Go check what's up." 

Sanji sighs, sad to have his romantic moment interrupted so soon, but he lets go of Bea after giving her cheek a small, affectionate kiss, as he heads out on deck to check what's up. 

He returns not long after, letting Beatrice know about Granny Kokoro and Luffy's plans to hire a shipwright in Water 7. 

Beatrice nods. "An island full of shipwrights, huh? Well that's good. I doubt that there are many female shipwrights. At least you'll be loyal to me for once." 

Sanji flinches as if struck. "Mon ange. I'm always loyal to you." 

Beatrice rolls her eyes and fixes him with a glare. "Are you, now? You were awfully cozy with Zoro the other day." 

Sanji's jaw goes slack and his cigarette falls out of his mouth. "W-with Zoro? Awfully cozy? What are you trying to say, darling?" 

Beatrice narrows her eyes at him. "That you're a little close for comfort with the swordsman. What's up with that?" 

Sanji splutters, turning slightly red as he defends himself. "Nonsense, chérie. I don't swing that way. Besides, you're the only one I love. Why would I want the shitty swordsman of all people when I have you?" 

Beatrice gives him another glare before leaning back on the sofa. "You tell me. I'd prefer if you didn't get so cozy with him all the time. One could think the two of you were in love." 

Sanji's frown deepens and so does his blush. "That's nonsense, darling. You're seeing things." 

Luffy, Nami and Usopp head out to go trade in the gold from Skypeia as Beatrice, Sanji, Zoro, Robin and Chopper stay behind. 

Robin lets everybody know about some of the island's specialities, like the fact that plenty of Water 7 can only be accessed through water canals and that the inhabitants use small boats pulled by animals to get around. 

Sanji's immediately twirling around happily. "Oh! We could have a romantic little getaway, just the two of us, Rob- Beatrice, sweet!" His initial course of twirling had been towards Robin but he catches himself just in time and swerves back around towards Beatrice. 

Beatrice is thankfully too busy glaring at Zoro to pay him much mind. "Sounds like a place that's easy to get lost in." 

Zoro huffs and fires back at her. "Yeah? Make sure you don't get lost then. I'd be happy to leave you behind." 

Sanji stops his twirling, looking between the two of them in horror. Things are never usually this hostile amongst the crew. In fact Zoro has always been the one looking out for everyone and making sure they get along, but now he's the one antagonizing Beatrice. 

Chopper is silent, looking uncomfortable with the hostility present, and Robin just views the scene silently. 

Beatrice scoffs. "Some first mate you are. Do you want us all to jump ship?" 

Zoro's glare is unwavering. "Nah. Just you." 

Sanji clears his throat awkwardly. "I-I'm sure marimo doesn't mean it like that, mon ange." 

Zoro scoffs at that. "Damn right I mean it like that. I'm sick and tired of your bullshit, Bea." 

Beatrice snarls, drawing her lips back like a feral animal. "Yeah? And what is it you're doing? Trying to abuse your higher position to turn everybody against me. You just have something against me personally so you try and manipulate everyone on the crew to your favor. Don't think I don't know what you're doing." 

Sanji tries to intervene. "Please, both of you, calm down. I'm sure that if we just settle down and think this over we can work this out in some way. Okay? Set aside our differences. We're part of this crew, no matter if we all like each other or not." 

Sanji gives a pointed glance to Zoro who just shrugs and crosses his arms as he replies. "Not all of the members of this crew seem to be focused on the well-being of the others here, though." 

Beatrice bares her teeth in what barely qualifies as a smile. "Says the person who only cares about playing with swords and napping all day." 

Sanji sighs. "Chérie, please. Let's not fight each other, okay? I'll make you a nice lovely cocktail and grab a lounger for you. The weather's lovely today, isn't it?" 

It's a weak attempt to distract everybody, but he hopes that it'll work. 

Zoro seems to have had enough of the discussion as he just scoffs and heads off (presumably to take yet another nap.) 

Chopper quickly excuses himself to prepare some medicine in his office as Robin heads off to drink some coffee as well. 

Beatrice turns to Sanji. "He's impossible, isn't he? Making me feel so unwelcome here. I already feel like I don't belong with how I'm the newest crew member." She sticks her bottom lip out in a pout, looking up at Sanji helplessly. 

He could absolutely melt when she looks all innocent and cute like that, so he nods, eager to please her. "Yes, sweetheart. I'm so sorry he said those mean things to you. You don't deserve that at all. Would you like me to have a word with him?" 

Beatrice shakes her head. "No. He'll continue to hate me no matter what. I just know he will. There's no use." Her bottom lip is actually quivering now. Sanji can feel himself getting a little weak in the knees. 

"Oh, mon amour. I'm so sorry. He's such a brute, you don't deserve to be treated like that at all." 

Beatrice nods in affirmation. "Honestly, Zoro reminds me a lot of my abusive ex. They're very similar in a lot of ways." 

Sanji's eyes widen in shock. "Z-Zoro... reminds you of your ex?" 

Sanji's mind starts spinning. So her ex must have been somebody Beatrice was attracted to once upon a time. If Zoro is like the ex, then is he also somebody that Beatrice finds herself attracted to? Surely she wouldn't prefer the shitty swordsman over him though. Right? There's no way. No woman could possibly love a ball of moss that only rarely bathes more than once a week. 

Beatrice nods solemnly. "A little, yeah. They both have these little habits, you know? Because of that, I don't feel safe around Zoro. To hear him say those awful things about me as well... it just makes everything so much worse." 

Sanji nods, eager to please and agree with her. "I get it. I really should have a word with him, then." 

Bea shakes her head again. "No, like I said, forget about it. There's no use."

Now it's Sanji's turn to pout. "But I need to make you feel happy and welcome on the ship. How am I supposed to do that when you feel so unsafe around Zoro?" 

Beatrice lets out a long suffering sigh. "Well. There's only one thing I could think of. But I'm asking for too much really." 

Sanji perks up eagerly. "Anything, my love. I'll do anything you ask of me." 

Beatrice bats her eyelashes up at him. "If you spent less time with him, I'd cross paths with Zoro less, of course. Then he wouldn't get to be mean to me as much." 

Sanji gulps, his throat suddenly dry. "Y-you mean it's my fault for hanging out with Zoro? That he'd leave you alone if I didn't hang out with him so much?"  

"Exactly. But of course I can't ask something like that of you. He's your best friend, after all." Beatrice's coy expression is tugging at Sanji's heartstrings. 

"No, no, that's okay. He's just a shitty swordsman, we're not that close anyways." 

Beatrice's eyes widen in faux shock. "Really? I always thought you were close. With how much time you spend together." 

Sanji forces a smile and shakes his head. "Nah, we just want to bash each other's heads in most of the time. No wonder we argue so much, right? Hah." 

Beatrice hums in contentment. "That's great to hear. Then spending less time around him won't affect you at all. I'm glad, Sanji. I wouldn't want to be a burden on you or those you consider friends. But if you don't care for Zoro anyways then this won't even be an issue to begin wtih." 

Sanji feels like he's skating on ice for the first time. Everything feels far too slippery right now and he's unsure of how to regain his balance of managing his relations with the crew while also pleasing Beatrice at the same time. "Of course you're not a burden, sweetheart. You could never be a burden. You come first. Always." 

I'll keep updating the fic on here once I keep writing, but AO3 is a lot more reliable in terms of actually getting updates first!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58304974/chapters/158023099#workskin

Kin'emon could only stare around himself. Blood, salt and tears. His eyes rolled back into his mind. O'Kiku, Raizo, Momonosuke. Faces, shapes and colors fogged his memory, some more distinct than others; one more distinct than others.

-oh, Tsuru, would you look at me with shame in your eyes? Have I not stained your honor once again?

Kin'emon groaned ever so quietly that he didn't even think the dust under his limp body could have heard him. He thought of the twenty years she had waited alone, the nights spent in their cold bed and the silent diners she must have shared with an empty chair.

-My flower, my Tsuru.

His breathing faded away in the rumble of the battle field, it aligned with the wind and he thought that if the gods were in his favour, they would send these thoughts to her. His flower. His Tsuru.

-You have been the solace of my life.

His lips curled into a weak smile, the orange explosions all around him made the tears on his cheeks glow in a distinguished manner. The smell of death surrounded him but she remained his only thought.

___

Tsuru was sat on the roof of her modest shop, she stared at the lanterns lit up in the sky from the capital, her eyes too, glowed this rich orange. She held her own hands firmly, wondering if her tight grip could be felt by her husband, wherever he was, whatever challenges he was facing, she let out a warm exhale and her hands relaxed. She felt him beside herself in an odd manner.

My most favorite 'tear-jerking makes me smile' song of my youth 🎵 💛 🎵

LUCKY

pairing- MODERN AU! Portgas D. Ace x fem! Reader word count- 4.5k genre- Pure fluff. synopsis- You meet up with your long distance boyfriend Ace during your winter break, little did you know that your date would turn out into a family meeting. note- THERE GOT TO BE AT LEAST ONE UNIVERSE WHERE ACE HAS A HAPPY FAMILY AND THIS IS GOING TO BE IT. Been thinking of this the whole week. Hope y'all like it. It is a little short but yeah :(

The night is hushed, blanketed in a thick layer of snow that glows faintly under the soft silver light of the moon. Snowflakes drift lazily from the sky, catching the glow of distant streetlights, twinkling like tiny stars before settling onto the untouched ground. The air is crisp, carrying a quiet stillness, broken only by the muffled crunch of footsteps pressing into the fresh snow.

Ace walks beside you, his gloved fingers laced through yours, radiating warmth even through the layers. Every now and then, he squeezes your hand, a silent reassurance, a quiet promise. His dark coat is dusted with specks of white, his hair kissed by the falling snow. He glances at you with a small, knowing smile, one that makes your chest tighten in the best way.

You lean into him, your shoulder brushing his as you walk, your movements slow and unhurried. There’s nowhere to be, no rush to escape the cold. The night belongs to you both—the snow-covered streets, the frost-laced trees, the soft crunch of your footsteps in the stillness. It’s peaceful, almost dreamlike, and with Ace beside you, it feels like the kind of moment you wish you could freeze in time.

He tugs you closer, his voice a gentle murmur against the quiet. “You warm enough?” You nod, smiling up at him. “Yeah. You?”

Ace smirks, nudging you playfully. “I’ve got you, don’t I?” giggling you hit him playfully. “Always got something snickering to say, don’t you?” he laughs, his arm now wrapped around your shoulder and keeping you close to himself.

As you walk, your free hand clutches a bouquet of hibiscus flowers, their vibrant petals a striking contrast against the snowy night. The blossoms are slightly chilled from the air, their fragrance faint but lingering—a reminder of the moment Ace had given them to you earlier, when you first saw him again after months apart.

You had spent the last few months oceans away, buried in textbooks and lectures, surrounded by new faces in a city that never quite felt like home. Studying abroad had been a dream—an opportunity you couldn’t pass up—but even in the excitement of it all, there had always been a quiet ache, a longing that settled deep in your chest every time you looked out over unfamiliar streets and realized he wasn’t there.

Late-night study sessions, early morning walks to class, the rush of learning something new—all of it had been fulfilling in its own way. But still, there were moments when you caught yourself staring at your phone, scrolling through old messages, rereading conversations just to hear his voice in your mind. Time zones had been a cruel barrier, turning simple phone calls into carefully planned moments stolen from sleep. Sometimes, you'd wake up to a text from him, something short and teasing, something that made you smile even on the hardest days.

"Don’t forget me while you’re off becoming a genius."

As if you ever could.

Ace notices you glance down at the bouquet, and he smirks, nudging your side. "You still like 'em, right? Or should I have gone with something more dramatic?" You roll your eyes, smiling as you hold the flowers closer. "No, Ace. They're perfect."

His smirk barely visible under the dim glow of the streetlights. “You’re quiet,” he muses, giving your hand a small squeeze. “Not regretting coming back already, are you?”

You roll your eyes, nudging his arm playfully. “Not even close.”

Up ahead, a warm glow spills onto the street from a small, tucked-away bar, its golden light flickering through frosted windows. A neon sign hums faintly above the entrance, casting a soft, inviting glow onto the snow-covered sidewalk. The muffled sounds of laughter and music seep through the walls, a stark contrast to the peaceful stillness outside.

As Ace pushes open the heavy wooden door, a wave of warmth washes over you, melting away the cold that had settled into your bones. The scent of aged wood, whiskey, and something faintly sweet fills the air, wrapping around you like a familiar embrace. The soft hum of conversation mingles with the low strum of a guitar playing in the corner, the sound rich and soothing against the quiet crackle of a fireplace tucked near the back of the room. The bar is small, intimate, the kind of place that feels like a well-kept secret.

As you and Ace weave through the bar, searching for a table, his fingers tighten around yours, halting you mid-step. You glance up at him, confused, only to see his brows furrowed slightly, his mouth parting as if he’s just seen a ghost.

Then, in a tone that’s caught somewhere between disbelief and exasperation, he blurts out, “Mom? Dad? You two here?”

Your head snaps in the direction he’s staring, and sure enough, there they are—Rouge and Roger, comfortably seated at a corner table like they own the place.

Rouge has a delicate glass of wine in hand, looking effortlessly elegant as always, her eyes widening slightly in pleasant surprise. Roger, on the other hand, is mid-sip of his drink—until he hears Ace’s voice. He nearly chokes, coughing into his fist before setting the glass down with a loud thunk. His eyes gleam with unmistakable amusement as he grins.

“Well, if it isn’t my prodigal son!” Roger declares dramatically, throwing his arms out like Ace just walked in on his own surprise party. “Didn’t expect to see you here! What a coincidence.”

Ace squints at him, then at Rouge, then back again at his dad. “Coincidence my ass,” he mutters under his breath. You elbow him lightly in the ribs, shooting him a pointed look. "Don’t be rude!" you whisper, though you’re already fighting the urge to laugh.

Ace sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, but you don’t give him a chance to argue. Instead, you turn to Rouge and Roger with an easy smile. “It’s really nice to see you both again. How have you been?”

Rouge beams at you. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s so good to see you again. How was your travel? Did Ace pick you up on time, or was he late?”

Ace glares. “I was exactly on time.” Roger raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? By your definition or ours?” You snicker, and Ace groans.

Roger waves him off. “C’mon, join us! Unless you’re too cool to have a drink with your old man Ace?” Ace groans louder but doesn’t move, and you can see the internal war playing out in his head. You nudge him playfully. “What’s the matter, Ace?” you’re looking at him as if you’re warning him for his next move.

His eyes narrow at you, then flick toward his father, whose smirk is way too smug, and then at Rouge, who just looks delighted by the whole situation. He sighs, long and suffering.

“…Fine,” he grumbles, already pulling a chair out for you.

As Ace helps you out of your coat, his hands gently guiding you through the process, you glance around, noticing the cozy warmth of the bar settling in as the fire crackles softly nearby. He drapes your coat over the back of the chair with a soft pat, and you let out a relieved sigh at the warmth inside.

Just as you reach down to place the bouquet of hibiscus flowers on the table, your fingers brush against the smooth wood, and that's when you notice something—a smaller bouquet of hibiscus sitting in a delicate glass vase at the center of the table. It's almost identical to yours, but the flowers are just a bit more compact, the petals a little softer, the arrangement slightly more refined.

You glance from her bouquet to your own, then back to Rouge, your lips curving into a surprised smile. “Wait, is that...?”

Rouge’s eyes widen as she follows your gaze, her fingers gently grazing the petals of her bouquet. “Oh my goodness,” she laughs softly, clearly just realizing it. “We have the same flowers!”

You chuckle, nodding. “It seems so. Hibiscus, right?”

Rouge lets out a lighthearted laugh, her eyes glinting with surprise and amusement. “How funny! I didn’t know we shared the same taste in flowers. I guess we both have good taste.” She glances over at you with a teasing smile.

You look down at the bouquets again, still amused by the coincidence, and before you can say anything more, you notice Ace’s expression—a mix of embarrassment and mild frustration, like he’s hoping the world will swallow him up in that very moment.

“Ace,” you begin, raising an eyebrow, “you didn’t tell me hibiscus was your mom’s favorite too?”

Ace groans, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes flicker to his parents. “I didn’t think it was important.”

Roger can’t help but grin. “Seems like hibiscus are a family favorite, huh? What a coincidence!”

A soft smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you look at him, your heart a little lighter than it was a few moments ago. You hadn’t expected to feel so welcomed, so included in a way that feels real, let alone be called part of their family. The warmth in the room intensifies, and you can’t help but feel at home.

As the evening continues, everything seems to fall into place effortlessly. The conversations flow easily, the laughter never quite stops, and the atmosphere around the table feels like something out of a perfect, cozy memory. You chat with Rouge about travel, exchange stories with Roger about Ace's embarrassing childhood moments, and even manage to get in a little playful banter with Ace—who, despite his groaning and eye-rolling, looks far more at ease than he did when the night began.

You glance around the table at Ace, his parents, and then at the flowers still sitting in the center, symbols of the little, unexpected connections that have tied this evening together. The hibiscus, the teasing, the quiet moments of understanding—everything about tonight feels natural and effortless. It’s a rare kind of peace that you didn’t realize you were missing, but now you can't imagine being anywhere else.

As the night unfolds, a soft, melodic tune fills the bar, just loud enough to complement the gentle hum of conversation. Every so often, the music swells into a tender ballad, and the atmosphere shifts slightly—lightly, but noticeably. People begin to rise from their seats, some hand-in-hand, others alone, drawn by the lure of the music. They make their way to the small dance floor at the far side of the bar, moving gracefully under the dimmed lights.

Even Rouge and Roger, after a few minutes of lighthearted conversation, stand up from their seats, exchanging a look between them. Without a word, Roger extends his hand to Rouge with a playful grin, and she takes it with a laugh, standing gracefully as they make their way to the dance floor. Their movements are slow, in perfect rhythm with the music, and there’s something undeniably sweet about the way they hold each other, their laughter mingling with the soft melody.

“They’re pretty good at this,” you comment with a soft chuckle, nodding toward the dance floor.

Ace smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, they’ve been at it for years.”

“You know,” he begins, his voice low but thoughtful, “I think they’ve got something pretty special.” He leans back in his chair, his arms relaxed at his sides. “They’ve been together forever, but they still act like it’s their first dance.”

You glance at him, surprised by the depth of his words. There’s no teasing in his tone, no joking around—just a quiet appreciation. “I didn’t expect you to be so... sentimental about it,” you say, teasing him lightly.

Ace chuckles, but it’s warm, genuine. “I guess I’ve got more of that in me than I let on.” He shrugs, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve seen how they are together, and I don’t think it’s cheesy at all. They’ve been through everything together, and they still make each other laugh like it’s the first time. That’s... rare.”

You smile, your gaze shifting back to Roger and Rouge, who are lost in each other on the dance floor. “I agree. There’s something really beautiful about it.” You glance back at Ace. “It’s nice to see them still so in love after all these years.”

Ace nods, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he watches his parents move together. “Yeah. They’ve got this connection. It’s not just the dancing—it’s everything. It’s how they care about each other, how they don’t need to say much to understand. It’s real, you know?”

There’s a quiet sincerity in his voice, and you can tell he genuinely admires that bond between them. “I can see why you’d want that for yourself,” you say softly, studying him closely now.

Ace looks at you, a little surprised, and then gives a small, almost shy smile. “I want that too, you know? Someone who gets it. I feel pretty lucky. Lucky that I found someone like you. I never thought I’d find someone who gets me, who makes me feel... like I can picture a future. Someone who makes everything feel a little more real.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you feel the warmth of his words settle in your chest. You try to hide the soft smile tugging at your lips, not wanting to seem too caught off guard, but his words hit you in a way you weren’t expecting.

“I’m glad I met you too, Ace,” you say softly, your voice filled with sincerity as you meet his gaze. “I never thought I’d be sitting here, feeling like this. But I’m glad we ended up here.”

The smile that spreads across his face is everything you’ve come to love about him—the way he can make everything feel just a little bit lighter, even when things are deep and serious. “Guess we’ve both got our luck, huh?”

And then, just as the thought of a future together feels more real than ever, the music shifts. A familiar melody fills the space between you, the opening chords of “Lucky” by Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat playing softly in the background.

You freeze for just a moment, eyes widening as you recognize the song. It’s the one you and Ace had both joked about being “your song” after a long, lazy afternoon spent listening to it together and realizing how the song matches with your ‘long distance’ situation at the moment.

Ace stands slowly, his hand extending toward you, his eyes full of affection and something a little deeper. “Would you dance with me?”

You blink, taken aback for a second by the sincerity in his request. But when you look into his eyes, you see the invitation isn’t just for a dance. It’s a moment, a small gesture that means so much more. You take his hand, standing up with a smile that matches his.

“I’d love to.”

Do you hear me? I'm talking to you

Across the water across the deep blue ocean

Under the open sky, oh my, baby, I'm trying

Ace pulls you close, guiding you toward the small dance floor where a few couples are still swaying to the music. His movements are steady and sure as he wraps his arm around you, his other hand holding yours gently but firmly. You both fall into a natural rhythm, as if the song had always been written for this moment, for the two of you.

Boy, I hear you in my dreams

I feel your whisper across the sea

I keep you with me in my heart

You make it easier when life gets hard

Your body naturally presses closer to his, the warmth between you building with every movement. You let yourself relax into him, your head resting lightly against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat beneath your ear, steady and calming, as the music flows around you both. His hand on your waist shifts slightly, guiding you in small circles as the song drifts on, and you find yourself smiling without even realizing it. Everything about the moment feels right—like the music was made for you, and this dance was meant to happen.

Ace’s thumb lightly brushes the back of your hand, and you rest your cheek against his chest again, feeling the warmth of his body. The song lingers in the air, and without thinking, the two of you begin to softly hum the next lyrics together, your voices blending effortlessly, like you’ve both known them by heart for a long time.

“Lucky I’m in love with my best friend…”

The words fall easily from your lips, the familiarity of the lyrics mixing with the quiet comfort of his presence. You can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your cheek as he hums along, his voice low and gentle.

“Lucky to have been where I have been…”

Ace’s voice flows with yours, the sound soft, but full of sincerity. His hand on your back pulls you just a little closer, the simple gesture making your heart flutter in your chest.

“Lucky to be coming home again…”

Ace shifts slightly, his lips brushing against your temple in a soft, lingering kiss. It’s sweet, warm, and just a little shy, like he’s trying to capture the moment and hold onto it forever. As the music continues to play, the quiet intimacy between you both feels like it’s building—subtle, gentle, but undeniable. You pull back just slightly to meet his eyes, the connection between you both as strong as ever.

There’s a brief silence between you, an understanding that this moment is yours. Ace smiles, his gaze soft and affectionate, and before you can fully process what’s happening, he leans in, his lips brushing yours in a gentle, fleeting kiss.

It’s a soft peck, almost like a promise—a quiet declaration of everything that’s been shared, everything that’s to come. The kiss is over almost as soon as it begins, but the warmth of it lingers, the feeling of his lips against yours staying with you in the air long after he pulls back.

They don't know how long it takes

Waiting for a love like this

Every time we say goodbye

I wish we had one more kiss

I'll wait for you, I promise you, I will

Just as you’re beginning to lose yourself in the warmth of the dance, a sudden shift in movement jolts you both—nothing harsh, but a light bump, as if the space around you has suddenly tightened.

You glance up just in time to see Ace and you, inadvertently stepping into the path of Roger and Rouge, who are also gliding across the dance floor, the two of them lost in their own rhythm. For a moment, the dance floor becomes a little chaotic—an accidental tangle of feet, a brief shuffle—but then, without missing a beat, both couples laugh lightly.

Ace, ever the quick thinker, grins at his parents. “Looks like we’re all a little too into this, huh?” he says with a chuckle. Before you can react, the smoothness of the moment takes over. Roger, grinning at you, offers a hand, and Ace extends his to Rouge with a teasing but affectionate smile. With an effortless grace, you both exchange partners.

After a few moments, Rouge leans in slightly, her voice low but warm, a soft teasing tone lacing her words. “So, tell me, Ace, how’s Y/N doing? You two seem pretty cozy tonight,” she says, her eyes flicking toward you and Roger as you both share a light moment on the side of the dance floor.

“Mom, really?” he asks with a laugh, but there’s no real hesitation. He knows she means well, and after everything, he’s grown used to her playful nudges.

Rouge smiles even wider, her voice soft but filled with affection as she continues, “Oh, come on. I’ve seen the way you look at her. You’ve been looking at her like she’s the only person in the room.”

“She is, Mom,” he admits quietly, his voice full of affection.

Meanwhile as you’re guided across the dance floor by Roger, you can’t help but feel the slight awkwardness of the moment. The music is still flowing smoothly, but there’s something a bit off-kilter as you try to keep in time with his steps. Unlike Ace, who is already taller than you, Roger towers over you, his even much taller frame making it a bit of a challenge to find your rhythm together.

You tilt your head back just to meet his eyes, his smile warm but slightly amused at the awkwardness of the situation. “You good?” he asks, his voice low, clearly sensing the struggle as you try to adjust to the difference in height.

You let out a small, self-conscious laugh, trying to adjust your stance. “It’s just… you’re a lot taller than Ace,” you explain, your feet not quite syncing with his longer stride. Roger chuckles softly. “As long as you don’t break my toes, we’re good.”

As the song nears its end, you glance over at Ace, who’s watching you with a soft smile from across the room. Roger notices and gently guides you to a stop. “I think he’s ready to take you back,” he says with a teasing grin.

You laugh and nod. “Yeah, he’s been waiting.”

With a final thank you to Roger, you make your way back to Ace, and the moment you’re in his arms again, it feels like everything clicks into place. His embrace is warm, familiar, and comforting.

I'm lucky we're in love in every way

Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed

Lucky to be coming home someday

As the song finishes, Ace pulls you back in, then leads you to your table. He pulls out your chair before sitting down beside you, his hand resting gently on your shoulder.

"Thank you for the dance, my lady" he says with a soft smile.

You smile back, your voice quiet. "Thank you!"

After a while, the four of you decide to leave the cozy warmth of the bar. As you step outside, the crisp air hits you, and the gentle snowfall makes everything feel serene and peaceful. The snowflakes swirl around, creating a soft, glittering blanket on the streets. Ace pulls his jacket tighter around him as he looks at you with a grin.

“Ready to brave the snow?” he asks, his voice full of warmth despite the chill in the air.

You smile, nodding as you both join Rouge and Roger, starting the walk back home. The snow crunches beneath your boots as you make your way down the quiet, snowy streets. There’s a quiet, comfortable energy between all of you, the sound of laughter and light conversation blending with the soft whistling of the wind.

Ace’s hand finds yours in the quiet night, pulling you just a little closer as the four of you walk together, heading home through the calm, snow-covered world.

As you and Rouge chat, walking side by side through the soft snow, the quiet evening feeling peaceful, you feel Ace’s hand slip from yours. You glance over just in time to see him lower himself down, scooping up a handful of snow, his playful grin spreading across his face.

Before you can react, he packs the snow into a perfect snowball and tosses it, hitting you gently on the shoulder.

“Hey!” you exclaim, laughing as you shake the snow off, your heart racing from the surprise. “That’s how it’s gonna be?”

Ace’s grin only widens, and he takes a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender. “What? I thought you’d like a little snowball fight.”

With a playful smile, you turn to Rouge, holding out the bouquet of hibiscus that Ace had given you earlier. “Here,” you say, handing it to her. “I’ll be right back.”

Rouge takes the flowers, a warm smile on her face. “Go get him.”

Without missing a beat, you scoop up a handful of snow, packing it into a snowball, and take off running toward Ace, who’s still laughing, clearly unprepared for your sudden move. You race toward him, the snow crunching beneath your feet, your heart pounding in excitement.

“You’re not getting away with this!” you call, launching the snowball straight at him.

Ace barely has time to react before the snowball hits him square in the chest. He stumbles back a little, wide-eyed and laughing. “Oh, it’s on now!”

You flash a grin, already ready to dodge his return fire, as the two of you fall back into your playful snowball fight, laughter filling the crisp air around you.

As you run toward Ace, snowball in hand, ready to get your playful revenge, you don't expect him to suddenly open his arms wide. Before you know it, he’s caught you in the middle of your sprint, pulling you toward him with a swift motion.

“Gotcha!” he laughs, his arms wrapping around you as he yanks you both backward, falling into a thick layer of snow on the ground.

The soft snow cushions your fall, and you both land with a light thud, snow surrounding you. For a moment, you’re both caught in a burst of laughter, the cold air mixing with the warmth of the fun. Ace's arms are still wrapped tightly around you, both of you half-buried in the snow, but neither of you mind.

Both of you are rolling around in the snow, laughing uncontrollably as Ace tries to tickle you, and you scramble to push him off, though you're both too caught up in the moment to care about the cold. Snowflakes fall around you as you two tumble, your laughter filling the air, soft and carefree. Ace is sitting up, wiping snow from his jacket, when you notice the look in his eyes—mischief mixed with something more tender.

"Maybe in another universe, we're pirates sailing the seas together and never separated from each other" he says out of nowhere.

You pause for a moment, your breath catching in the cold air, and before he can say anything, you lean down toward him, your hands gently pushing away a stray snowflake from his cheek.

"Shut up with your conspirative ideas ,hotshot"

Without another word, you press a soft kiss to his lips, the snow around you almost feeling like a blur as the world narrows down to just the two of you.

From a short distance away, Roger and Rouge watch the scene unfold, a quiet smile on both of their faces. They exchange a look, seeing the happiness and lightheartedness between you two.

Roger chuckles softly. “Eh, young love…” he says, his voice filled with warmth as he watches the young couple enjoying the moment. “Stop talking like a grandpa, and let’s leave” Rouge spats playfully at him, holding his arm and walking away.

all author rights go to @neospade

UwU, my heart 🫶 cannot take this level of sweetness I'm seein'

sashii my love! this event is so cute omg may i have day 12 + chocolate with Ace, please? Fem! or GN! reader is fine 🥺 thank you so much, bby i love youu ❤️

Hi my lovely Lari!!! So here I am with this little scenario of the freckled sunshine for you! 💖 I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful holiday season!! (despite the blazing hot summer that we have to endure 😂). Love you lots! 💖

Chocolate Portgas D. Ace x F! Reader Day 12: I'm Sorry I burnt the dinner ~

tw: none. some red eyes perhaps. based on Ace's favorite food being ghost pepper spaghetti. Peperoncini is the Italian term for ghost peppers, aglio e olio is the Italian term for garlic and oil. The image I chose for the banner was specifically chosen cause I wanted to portrait Ace's face while he looks at reader (I know he was looking at Sanji, but we are not here to discuss Ace's likings, at least not rn hahah)

wc: 828

“She is so pretty… she is working hard to cook an amazing meal, what did I do to deserve such an amazing lover?” Ace thinks, while resting her chin over his hand. He looks at her with eyes of pure love, of pure adoration. He, Ace, never thought of someone loving him, less taking care of him, or even spending Christmas with him.

But there she is, making him his favorite food for dinner…

You read a little diary Garp-san said it was Ace’s mom’s. She had written the recipe for “ghost pepper spaghetti” there and even if Ace never tasted hers, for some reason that exact same dish turned out to be his favorite. And you sweat, what if you do it wrong? it’s gonna be the first time he tastes your cooking, cause after all you’ve never been good with it. Not even Sanji-kun’s tips were able to help you. Ace never cared, but you did.

Several pots were already on the stove, boiling water for the noodles, a frying pan ready for you to sauté the aglio e olio and the peperoncini resting right over the cooking table to be cut in halves. All according to Rouge annotations. And it didn’t seem so difficult, yet you realize there is a missing ingredient over the table; parsley.

“What an idiot” you mumble, taking your hand to your forehead. “What’s wrong babe? Do you need help?” Ace immediately asks from the table. You asked him not to come closer since this was going to be a surprise for him. “Oh no, nothing darling! It’s ok! Go sit in the dining room, food is about to be ready!” you act as everything was alright, and indeed it was, but you pressure yourself a lot when doing this…. after all, what if Rouge is looking at you from the sky, facepalming at your incompetence?...

You quickly run to the pantry for the damn parsley, because everybody has it in their houses, right? “It’s like a common spices, come on” you whisper, while looking for the damn little jar that has that name on a tag. “What does it even look like?” you mumble, at this point hysterical.

And all of a sudden a certain smell comes wafting to your nose…

“FUCK! THE HEAT!!” you shout, running to the remains of a ghost pepper sauce that more than red now looks carbon black. You throw the pan to the kitchen sink to cool off the stupid pot and take your hands to your face. Instant tears sprout from your eyes. “I’m an idiot” once again, you mumble.

Ace comes to the rescue, “What’s wrong baby?” he asks, hugging you tight from behind. “I’m a failure” you say, in between sobbing. “What? You aren’t! You are my perfect love, don’t ever say that!” he tells you, kissing your head and slowly turning you around.

You rest over his chest, without taking your hands off your face, but enjoying his warm embrace. “I can’t even cook this; I tell you I am” you mumble. “Listen, I don’t even know what parsley looks like, don’t worry” he says, poor man, he was trying to help you out, but made it worse. “WHAT IS IT ABOUT THE DAMN PARSLEY?” you grunt and rub your eyes to wipe your tears away.

But… Do you remember rule number one when cooking with peppers that Sanji told you? “Name-swan, remember to use gloves or be extra careful if you cut ghost peppers barehand, do not take your hands to your eyes or they will burn”

You begin to squirm, to jump and soon run to the sink. “AHHHH MY EYES!!!” “WHAT BABY, WHAT???” “MY EYES, BURN!!! THE FUCKING PEPPERS!!!”...

Some hours later…

“Make some space, baby!” Ace tells you while bringing the Big Macs you ordered with a big smile, as bright as the sun and those freckles like a starry sky. He places the tray over the table, and hands you your order. Outside it’s snowing heavily, and the lights from the streets blink in between the snowflakes. The fast-food restaurant isn’t packed at all on Christmas eve, but there are some more people enjoying some burgers. Your eyes, a little red still, with no makeup, reflect over the windows of the place. Ace sits next to you, and jokes about putting some hot sauce on his burger.

“I’m sorry I burnt the dinner” you tell him, still sad. “It was your mom’s recipe”. “Don’t be sorry, my love. What about us trying to cook it again tomorrow? Together?” he tells you, with one of his cheeks puffed by the food. “But I fucked up, look… we are eating on a Mc Donald’s on Christmas eve”. “It doesn’t matter where, it doesn’t matter what I eat… the only thing that matters is to be right next to you” Ace says, kissing your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, baby. I love you” “Merry Christmas, Ace. I love you too”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ~ ❤ ~

How naughty ⛓️🔐

CUFFED

– pairing: law x vice admiral!reader, kid x vice admiral!reader, ace x vice admiral!reader

– nsfw for Law and Kid, sfw-ish for Ace

– summary: who knew that sea stone handcuffs can break a man down?

“Are you serious?” He asked as you forced him onto a chair, a sea prism collar securely placed around his neck.

You smirked as you cuffed his hands behind him after he sat down. He was powerless and at your mercy. You finally had the upper hand, and you loved it.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” you said as you took off the collar. “And now, pirate, I’m going to make you pay.”

Kneeling down, you noticed his growing arousal. As you stroked his clothed length with your fingers, Law couldn’t help but shiver.

“You think I’ll beg?” He asked. “You’re wrong.”

You slowly pulled his pants down, exposing his erection. You kissed up his length, and right when you reached the tip, you grazed your tongue over it making bite his bottom lip. “Tell me.” You whispered, sliding your fingers up and down his base.

“You’re getting nothing out of me.” He gritted his teeth.

“Don’t make this harder on yourself, Captain,” you said, slipping your pants off. You sat on his lap and slipped just his tip in you.

“Ah-“ his voice betrayed.

“If you want more tell me where they are.” You said seductively, slowly going in. Then you pulled out, biting his ear and whispered, “and I’ll give you what you want.”

Kid struggled against the handcuffs, grunting as he tried to free himself from the restraints. Unfortunately, that only knocked him over so he was on the floor still sitting on the chair.

“What’s this?” You asked calmly. “Is this the terrifying Captain Eustass Kid of the Kid Pirates? Laying on my floor?”

“Shut up.” Kid growled.

You leaned forward pinning his throat on the floor with your heels, making Kid gasp. But what caught his eye the most was a glimpse under your dress. “Bold of you to expose your pussy.”

“Want a taste?” You whispered, taking your heel off his throat. Kid bit his lip. It had been a while since he ate a woman out. You crouch down, your pretty pussy within tongue’s reach.

Kid’s breathing intensified as he imagined you sitting on his face while he ate you out, him grabbing your thighs and digging his nails into them.

You slowly brought it closer, letting him give your clit a lick. The way you moaned made him shudder.

“If you want more,” you moaned, letting him continuously lick you like a dog drinking water, “start talking.”

“My poor sweet Ace,” you cooed as you undressed in front of him. His eyes widened from your forward action, not sure how to handle the situation. “Do you think you’ll be able to hold back?” You asked, your uniform falling on the floor.

“Eh, good luck breaking me.” He replied with a smirk. “I’m not so easily bested.”

“Says the man at my mercy.” You smiled.

Instead of walking in front of him, you went behind and leaned your body against his, your breasts against his back. Ace gulped. Especially when you leaned forward and ran both sets of fingers down his chiseled chest, stopping at the rim of his shorts.

“I’m not talking.” He murmured, hiding his needy tone.

Oh how easy this man was to please.

As you kissed his ear and bit the lobe, you brought your fingers up to his shoulders.

“Then I’ll make you.”

“I’m not talking.”

You smirked, seeing his cheeks turn a slight shade of red. “You will.”

absolute mushiest of the mushies🤜💗

Louder than Words - Portgas D. Ace

Portgas D. Ace x Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your own personal One Piece. 

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

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

Deeper and deeper. 

Closer and closer. 

Chest to chest. 

Heart to heart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He couldn’t-

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

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

Oh the things you did to him. 

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

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

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

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

// ——

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

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

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

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

Love. 

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

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

He was your love. 

Yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He woke up in your arms. 

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

It was the scent of home nonetheless. 

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

I’m so grateful you exist.

His arms instinctively tightened.

That you were born. 

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

That was the opposite of what he’d expected! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet…

He. couldn’t. stop.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With crying like a baby?” 

You just hummed and nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No?”

“It’s not?” 

“Do you think I’m weak when I cry?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“But you’re a woman.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We can both be lucky.”

“Then I’m luckier.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yea huh.”

“Agree to disagree?”

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

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

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

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

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

“To the desk,” you blinked at him.

“What’re you up to there?”

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

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

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

Shoot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aww you wouldn’t recognize me?”

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

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

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

That had the two of you laughing.

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

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

“Very.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Should I be concerned?”

“Hey!”

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah.

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

Oh!

Maybe he could even surprise you with it! 

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

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

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

“Huh?” He raised a brow at you.

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

“No?” He tilted his head.

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

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

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

“So no shower?”

“Wouldn’t we get caught?”

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

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

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

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

“Love you too,” you returned immediately.

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

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

Extra:

Later during an “Official Division Commander Meeting”:

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

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

Izou: absolutely not! I will

Ace: hey she’s my wife

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

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

Izou: hmph! but of course

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

Ace: it’ll be worth it!

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

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

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

Thatch: yeah yeah I heard you. groans

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

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

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Complete☁️Comfort

hi! could i request for fluff and comfort with ace? there was this one reddit post i saw abt a guy who rambled abt being so grateful and happy that he's loved by his girlfriend, and the post described how he felt that way when they were having a bath together (nonsexual, i promise! feel free to look the reddit post up). i thought the prompt suited ace so much, esp since the guy in that reddit post mentioned that he cried out of happiness, so maybe smth like this with ace x fem!reader?

ofc, feel free to skip if it makes u uncomfy ^^

~ ♠️ anon

shower me in your love | Ace x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x GN! Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Genre: Fluff, Comfort

Warning(s): Nudity (non-sexual)

A/n: I loved this idea so much anon, I was so excited to write it for so long TT but post-exam creativity block really hit hard so this is a bit later than I had hoped to put out. Also, you asked for fem!reader but I think this fic never specified any body parts or pronouns at any point, so it ended up gender neutral haha... This is my first time attempting to write Ace, so please forgive any oocness ><

Please do not ask me the mechanics of a bathtub on a pirate ship and let's just pretend that can work out because the sea is on my side, 'kay? I hope you enjoy ♡ and thank you for the request!

also available on ao3!

The sun had dipped beneath the horizon but the sky was still clinging onto a fading orange. Above him, it was already starting to look like a dark midnight blue mixing into violet. Ace's shoulders slouched, the tension seeping out as he made his way to his sleeping quarters. The day had been hectic, and even the usually energised division commander was feeling a bit exhausted.

Ace couldn't wait to drop into his bed and fall asleep but the plan went out the window when he opened his door to find you sitting on his bed, your back to him.

"Hey," he called out, making you snap your neck around. Just the sight of your bright smile got a little more tension out of him. You bounced up to him, hands immediately coming up to cradle his face. You pulled him into a soft kiss and Ace exhaled slowly, pressing his body into your own soft one.

Out of the two of you, Ace was definitely the one with the higher body temperature but somehow, when you hugged, he couldn't help but feel that you were more… warmer. It was a different sort of warmth than physical– more emotional, he supposed. You felt a little bit like coming home, like coming to a fireplace after a day out in the snow.

"Hey," you said quietly, pulling back just enough to admire his face. He didn't have to say anything; he could see the understanding on your face with just one glance. "It's been an exhausting day, huh?"

"Mm," he didn't feel like talking about it, instead opting to drop his head on your shoulder. Ace pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, taking the familiar light scent of you. You giggled at the sensation, playfully pushing him without any real strength to it.

"That tickles!"

"You smell amazing," he whispered. You blushed, pushing at him with a bit more strength now.

"I'm sweaty, what do you mean?" You huffed out another short laugh. "And so are you, mister. C'mon, how about a nice hot bath, hm? I already set it up for the both of us while waiting."

Ace finally pulled away, looking at you with the softest expression. This time, he was the one to cradle your face in his hands. Pressing a light kiss on your forehead, he murmured a quiet admission of love. Gentle hands guided him toward the bathroom, shutting the doors behind him. Ace stood there as you removed his clothes and accessories with somewhat practised hands. When the both of you were undressed, you pulled him into the bathtub and sat down in between his legs.

This close, you could feel that Ace was running warmer than even the hot water around you. He quickly pressed a peck on the tip of your nose to surprise you, then grabbed the bottle of shampoo and soap to start but you stopped him. You took the shampoo out of his hands and smiled warmly when he looked at you with curiosity.

"How about I wash you today?" There was a hint of shyness in your voice, along with a sparkling in your eyes. Ace just nodded dumbfoundedly, watching you carefully squeeze out some of the shampoo into your hands. "Alright, stay still, I'll go sit behind you."

You stood up, the water splashing a bit as you carefully manoeuvred around to sit on the edge of the tub that was attached to the wall. Ace let your free hand guide his frame in between your legs and waited for a few seconds.

The moment your shampoo lathered finger dipped into his hair, he felt boneless. You weren't even doing much, just carding your fingers and working out the tangles as you ensured that the shampoo properly washed the roots and the tips, but it felt so good.

Ace couldn't really remember the last time someone touched him with such gentleness, such care and love. (He couldn't even remember who would have touched him like that the last time. Was it his mother?) You hummed a song he had heard you singing in passing, as you pressed your fingers into his scalp for a slight massage.

Another shaky exhale left his mouth along with the last remaining tension in his shoulders. Ace closed his eyes. With a soft hum, he pressed his head back into your stomach, heart singing at the sound of your giggle echoing in the small bathroom.

"Hey!" You said indignantly, pushing at his foam covered head. "Don't put your shampoo on my stomach."

It made Ace smile and he obliged, leaning his head away. You didn't touch him for a few minutes and he cracked his eyes open to look around at you, to find that you were shampooing your own hair now. You slid down into the tub and he made some space between the wall and him so you could sit properly. Once you were done, you wiped off the foam on your hand and switched to the soap.

"Alright, c'mere, my big baby," you grunted, trying to pull him by his arm. He blinked then let you pull him into the position you wanted. And then you are sitting in his lap, soap being lathered onto his skin with diligent hands. He didn't say anything and just stared quietly at you from the close proximity.

Normally, having you in his lap would get him a little… excited, but today, the action was so non-sexual and domestic, it seemed to hurt. Every movement and word you had said felt mind-numbingly relaxing. Half a year ago, if someone had suggested he would be in this position with you, he would have laughed and called them to get their marbles checked.

Right now though, he couldn't believe his own luck as your fingers dragged over him with a gentleness he had yet to experience from elsewhere. He was strong. Everyone knew that. You knew that. But even knowing that, you always touched him so softly, so gently, that it made him feel like he was made out of fragile brittle glass.

He kinda liked it.

To be vulnerable in front of you only was something he could agree to. No one had ever been this patient and loving towards him, and the fact that he loved you too much to even put it into words crashed around inside him as he watched you soap yourself up.

You were beautiful, obviously. He had to be blind to not notice how gorgeous you were. But sometimes, he couldn't help but think that your real beauty lies in how you just fit in with everyone so well. You were understanding, you were kind and you were there whenever anyone needed you. You were there when Ace needed you. And even though you were there for him, silently understanding what he needed, you never expected anything back for it. It was purely an act of love.

He wasn't talking much like usual today, but you didn't say anything about it. You only continued in your actions, washing away the soap and the shampoo with the water. Ace continued to stare at you, wondering if you were really real.

You were so good to him. He remembered when Marco had mentioned after you announced your relationship that you were good for him. He hadn't really understood the depth of that sentence until now. Until this moment, sitting in his bathtub that was definitely not made for two people, as you washed him even though he was a grown adult who could do it himself.

And it wasn't really about the ability to do it, was it? It was more about the feelings and the thoughts behind the action– it was about the care you felt. Of course you knew he could do it– but you wanted to do it for him anyway because you loved him.

You loved him so much, he couldn't help but feel thoroughly loved and blessed. You, who could have fallen in love with anyone, had fallen in love with him. On his down days, he couldn't help but think that you deserved better than him. Right now though, he couldn't think of anything else but the fact that he was so grateful that you chose him out of everyone.

Whatever made you choose him– he would forever be grateful to it. You were the best thing to happen to him.

"Ace?" Your concerned voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he looked at you. You were done cleaning off both of you, but you were back in his lap. Familiar hands came up to wipe away what Ace realised were tears streaming down his face. He felt a little mortified that he cried over something so small but, like always, it was like you could read his mind. "It's not insignificant if it makes you feel something so strong. Just let it out, hm?"

He didn't really need your 'permission', but the moment you said that, his body seemed to take it as the cue to cry even more. Warm tears rolled down his cheeks and he felt you guide his face into the crook of your neck– you knew he felt embarrassed about crying in front of you. You just did it to let him save face; you let him hide his face in your embrace.

Ace sobbed into your neck, body shaking as he felt your fingers card through his hair and draw hearts into his back, over his tattoo. The two of you stayed like that for a while until the tears finally stopped.

"Let's dry up?" Your eyes were soft as you helped him stand up and out of the bathtub. "And then we can cuddle in bed all night. How does that sound?"

You didn't need to say it out loud to let him know how you felt. Ace watched you wrap a towel around him and then yourself, the unspoken words lingering in the air alongside the steam.

"Sounds amazing."

I love you too.

°•❀•°

all likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

★ Taglist for Ace:

@toertchen | @boomboom-tanjiro2019 | @katiemrty | @writingmysanity | @akaashi-todorki

let me know if you want to be added/removed!

Stunning sexy and I’m going to die happy

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 1 - All in One Piece

A bad day gets infinitely worse.

WC: 2.5k

Masterlist | AO3

A/N: This fic will include a multitude of more intense kinks and fantasy themes such as watersports, heavy BDSM, forced painful eggpreg, bloodplay, knotting, non-human dicks, somnophillia, and of course considerable amounts of monster fucking. If you're not good with those, then this isn't the fic for you sorry! More tags will be added to A03 as the fic goes, so please see what's currently listed there before you start, but those are the tags I know for sure will be included that may deter some people. This one is for my freaks! (affectionate). It won't be as long as Wavelengths but this is definitely a longer series than Pitching Tents~

Cold dirty water leaked through the hole in your worn boot as you accidentally stepped in a puddle much deeper than you'd originally anticipated. You cursed to yourself and shook your foot uselessly, your socks were fucking drenched. An awful end to an awful day. Work had been fucking draining, and if one more customer asked if you could ‘check in the back’ you were going to start killing people. Ma'am, what fucking ‘back'? It's a damn boutique, we don't even have our own private toilet! The cherry on top was the classic Karen with that classic boomer lead poisoning stare who absolutely refused to leave when you were supposed to be finished ten minutes ago. You were about ready to hit her with the wooden sandwich chalkboard as you pulled it inside if she took one more fucking second. God, all this pent up anger was getting close to boiling over, you needed to get laid, bad. Ye olde silicone dick just wasn’t going to hit the spot tonight, even if you did have a fun new one shaped like an imagining of a dragon’s cock.

You opened your phone as you walked, music blasting in your ears, blocking out the sounds of the bustling rush hour city around you while you sighed to yourself and opened a dating app in utter despair. Swipe, swipe, swipe, oh a message, ew ugly dick pic no thanks, swipe, swipe. You were at least thankful that the rain had let up for your short walk home, but if one of these men didn't reply with enthusiasm to your need for a lay you were going to scream so loud they'd hear it at the city outskirts.

Swipe, swipe, sw-

Hang on.

What the fuck just happened.

Everything was so.

Dark.

Where did the lights of the city go? Was it a blackout, caused by the weather? The rain hadn’t been that bad today had it? A moment ago you'd seen the bright neon colours of illuminated billboards and shop displays reflecting in the scattered shallow puddles, the red of the no crossing pedestrian light, the bright headlights of an oncoming bu-

Oh.

Oops.

You got hit by a bus didn't you? God fucking dammit. Well that's fucking annoying. A real fucking inconvenience to be honest.

But hey, no time to think about that, because all of a sudden it's so bright your eyes have to squint to see, and with all the force of a body that was… just hit by a bus… you were soaring horizontally through the air. It was dark again but this time… just your body? Something encompassed you, shiny and metallic, a dark reflective surface covering what you could see of your skin. Something hit your back hard, or maybe you hit it? There was a crack of wood splintering from somewhere behind you and you slumped down, sitting against… a deck? Your head throbbed with ache but you seemed to be in one piece, blinking at your surroundings to try and figure out what had happened, where you had landed. Against some sort of food truck maybe? Directly under a bright streetlight? Surely that would explain it. Voices were calling out around you, the vibrations of heavy, frantic footsteps over wood able to be felt where your hands touched the ground, but you couldn't hear anything except the buzzing in your ears, like white noise turned up far too loud, your eyes having trouble focusing through the bright light.

Something warm closed around your neck and you were dragged to stand, then further, your feet hovering above the ground as you choked, pressed against something solid behind you. You blinked again. No, that can't be right? Must be a dream, hopefully a sexy one, you must have been knocked unconscious. Scarlet red hair sticking up like a wildfire, squared googles worn like a headband, thick eyeliner, lips painted in the same shade as his hair. Oh please, please, please let this be a sexy dream. No scars though, curious. Pre timeskip then? His mouth was moving but you still couldn't hear, ah, not quite a completely detailed dream you guessed. Lucid though? Your ability to scan your eyes down at will told you perhaps yes. Ah, there it is, two flesh arms, yup we're going pre timeskip. Just as well, you'd never been keen on the idea of the metal arm touching you; a strong, calloused, fleshy hand would feel far nicer on your body.

You vaguely registered the brief feeling of weightlessness as you were pulled away from the strong thing behind you and slammed back again. The mast perhaps? Ow, that one kinda hurt. I think? Surely not, it's a dream. His mouth was moving again, but this time words were starting to form, the fog of the white noise slowly fading to a more bearable hum.

“-re you doing on my fucking ship?” He barked, flicks of spittle splashing against your face.

You blinked again, hmm, could you talk in this dream? No time like the present to try I guess?

“Tryna get laid?” You coughed, your voice strained from the hand around your throat. Something unrecognisable flashed in his eyes. Anger? Confusion? He leaned back a little to pull something from his bandolier, his grip on your neck loosening for a moment before being replaced by something sharp and cold, metallic perhaps? It was hard to tell from the thin edge.

“Wanna try that one again little mouse?” He gave you a toothy grin, his canines sharp and dangerous, and something about the dark look in his amber eyes sent a shiver down your spine. Fear or lust, you weren't sure, both perhaps? “I'll put it in plain words: What. Are. You. Doing. On. My. Fucking. Ship?”

Hmmm, prisoner turned lover type scenario huh? You'd read more than your fair share of fanfiction, your best bet to getting this sexy dream to go somewhere was act confident, right? What was he gonna do, kill you? It's just a dream anyway. Probably a weird coma dream, given the bus. Oh, maybe you'd be one of those crack medical cases of people who live a whole life in their coma dream. Shout out to your brain for picking this world to live it out in, you wondered if the machines on the outside would beep with a heighted heart rate every time one of these pirates fucked you in the dream. You wiggled your toes to check you were in control, all systems go captain, initiate stage one of ‘badass bitch gets laid’. You swung your legs up and wrapped them around his waist, and his brows, or lack thereof, shot up in surprise.

“Did I stutter, captain?” You purred, “You are the big bad captain of the Kid Pirates, correct? I thought a guy like you would be overjoyed to be presented with a hot, willing lay, or do you prefer to pay for those services?”

Someone coughed out a wheezed laugh, it sounded strained and suppressed. Ah, Killer must be nearby. Well, at least if Kid hated your jokes maybe you could turn your attention to the masked man, he was your favourite afterall.

“So what, you just crashed onto my ship outta butt fuck nowhere, naked as the day you were born, for a quick fuck?” Kid scowled, “How did you get here? Devil fruit?”

“Uh, I think I got hit by a bus actually,” you pondered, able to speak a little easier now that his hand wasn't so tight on your throat, though the metal was still pressed to it, some sort of knife you assumed. “Hang on, did you just say I'm naked?”

“Are you stupid?” Kid squinted. He let you go all of a sudden and you fell to the deck with an unceremonious thump. Ow, that one definitely hurt. “Kil, throw her overboard, if she ain't gonna talk we'll prove for ourselves she has a fruit, fish her out before she drowns too much though, she's interesting. I wanna know how she got here”

You turned to the quiet footsteps of the approaching first mate, in his button up polka dot shirt. Cute. You gave him a sweet smile but he ignored it, scooping you up, throwing you over his shoulder, and absolutely yeeting the shit out of you straight into the drink.

Icy water closed in around you as your body dropped down several metres under the surface at the impact. You felt no exhaustion though, no pull of the deep. Well, at least now you knew there was no devil fruit for you in this dream, too bad, it'd be sick to turn into a big fuck off bear or something. Sighing internally, you swam your way back to the surface, doing your best Little Mermaid impression and flicking your hair back as you broke through to air. Several scowling faces looked down at you from the deck, and you bobbed awkwardly in the gentle waves, staring back up at them. Fuck it was cold, could someone put a blanket over your comatosed ass irl please? Jeez.

“Uh, can someone help me up?” You shouted up to the ship, “I'm not a good climber”. Honestly, you weren't a bad climber, you were just sure this was gonna turn into one of those running but getting nowhere situations if you tried.

Kid let out a tsk and suddenly heavy chains were wrapping around you, enclosing around your neck and nearly hanging you as they pulled you back to deck, dropping you back to the wood with a wheeze.

“That wasn't-” you let out a choked cough, “that wasn't very nice of you. This dream sucks, actually”

“Dream?” Killer asked. Oh god his voice was even better in person. But it sounded more to the pitch of the Japanese voice actor, hang on did that mean you were speaking Japanese? Dreams are weird man.

“Yeah I mean..” you looked up at him, crossing your legs, not bothering to cover your nude body. What did it matter, this was just like one of those giving a presentation in school kinda dreams, but nudity had never bothered you. “I got hit by a bus, so this is just some weird coma dream. Sucks though, usually they're sexy by now. What a disappointment”

“Yeah? You have sex dreams about us often?” Kid smirked.

“You, not so much,” Kid's smirk very quickly turned to a frown and he looked like he was gonna hang you again, “aye, easy big guy, they exist, I just prefer dreaming about Killer or Heat is all”

Someone nearby choked on air, and there was the audible sound of a palm slapping a back and the faint whisper of “get it to-fucking-gether Heat, fuck”

“Anyway, this dream sucks,” you hummed, stretching out your legs, bored, “so either make with the orgy or turn into a face eating demon or some shit so I spook awake, I'm bored.”

Kid rushed towards you, knife still in hand, and you wondered for a split second if he was actually going to do one of the two, before the piercing pain of a knife through your rib cage cut right through that line of thinking. It was searing, white hot like you were being branded from the inside out, you'd broken your arm once but this might have hurt more. Your world stopped for a moment before you let out a blood curdling scream that forced those closest pirates to you to cover their ears, and you gagged and as you looked down at the knife sticking out of you.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” you finally stuttered as your scream settled, your throat sore and strained, pained tears rolling down your cheeks, “that hurts. Oh god, oh god, not a dream, not a fucking dream”

“No fucking shit, dumb cow,” Kid reached for the knife and you smacked his hand away, holding the hilt protectively.

“Don't fucking touch it, asshat” you bit, “oh fuck what if you got something important, just my fucking luck I get fucking isekai'd to the resident ship of the Grandline's biggest fucking asshole and now I'm gonna die again. Twice in one day, that's gotta be a record for sure.” Kid growled and tried to pull the knife with his powers, but once again your hands turned metallic and held the hilt steady. Realisation hit you like a… bus… hmmm, too soon?

“Oh, fuck yeah, HAKI!” you yelled triumphantly, “I always knew I was a strong willed bitch, ha, take that Captain Stupid Pants!”

You lifted a hand to flip him off. Ah, well, you'd never claimed to be smart. Moving your hand halved the strength against his pull, and the dagger shook and yanked itself out from your chest.

“Now who's stupid?” He smirked, dangling the dagger as he squatted in front of you, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Okay, admittedly, maybe me,” you would probably laugh if it didn't hurt so damn much. “Hey, what if I make you a deal, I'll uhh… I'll let you freeuse me if you let me live”

“Back at it again with the sex! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Kid yelled.

“A lot, probably,” you sighed, blood pouring freely from between your fingers. You squinted at Kid before reaching forward and yanking his sash off, “gimme that.” Much to his dismay, you pressed the fabric to your wound to slow the bleeding, though the effects of blood loss were quickly becoming apparent. “Cute that you wear each other's colours,” you mumbled drowsily, holding the royal blue sash to your wound, which was quickly turning a dark red as your blood soaked into it. “Whoops, looks like it's your colour now though, Kiddo. Hey, before I die, can someone tell me how Heat's fire breathing works?”

“Really? Minutes to live and that's what you wanna know?” Kid frowned.

“Call me curious,” you gave him a drunk looking smile, “they never explained it in the manga”

“Who the fuck is they?” Kid tilted his head curiously, “and what the fuck is manga?”

“It's like a comic book, boss,” Heat spoke up. Ha, you always had him pegged as a fucking weeb.

Life was quickly draining from you, red spilling out over the wooden deck, your eyelids drooping more with every minute. If this was real, a thought occurred to you. Maybe there was a real reason behind this. Maybe you really were dead, and this was some sort of test to be a guardian angel or some shit. Alternate universe type deal, perhaps all fiction was just flickers of a view into another universe. Deep. Ah, no time to really ponder that thought though. You let go of the sash to grab Kid's arm with a weak, blood drenched hand.

“Don't- don't fight Shanks,” you mumbled, “and don't make an alliance with Apoo or Hawkins. And don't-” your head spun as you tried to push out the most important stuff, “don't let Killer eat the SMILE fruit”

The last thing you saw was a look of confusion on Kid's pale face, before everything spun and once again you were tossed into darkness. But hey, at least you weren't wearing wet socks anymore.

[Next Chapter]

Taglist: @chershire23 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

This is important!!! If anyone has had their works stolen by this person they deserve to know. If you can tag anyone about this please do, this is unacceptable behaviour.

Wattpad

ten lee (@johnnyseo23)

117 Works, 3 Reading Lists, 65 Followers

To all One Piece AO3 writers!! There is a Wattpad account with DOZENS of stolen stories. I've already reported them for stealing mine (Loving Luffy and Secondary Emotions). I've reached out to the authors of stories I recognized but there were a lot I didn't recognize! If you are a writer on AO3 that does MiShanks, Dofuwani, Rouge centric, Luffy centric, or Dadodile you should look for your fic in here and report it as well!!

PLEASE REPOST THIS SO IT CAN REACH MORE AUTHORS SO THEY CAN KNOW IF THEY ARE BEING STOLEN FROM!

Capa para a fanfic “Amour” escrito por Amy_Rattlehead para a seção de One Piece, fanfic com foco no ship Lawlu (lindos <3) 

Capa feita com inspiração nas edições lindas de @lunaticaxx dêem uma olhadinha no perfil dela, só tem coisa linda.

Se inspire! Não copie! Créditos ao artista K pelas artes lindas utilizadas nesta edição!