Ace’s habit of kissing you at the worst possible moments—mid-battle or mid-party—sparks playful chaos and heartfelt moments aboard the Moby Dick.
ace x gn! reader | ONE SHOT
tags: fluff, sfw, flirting, teasing, established relationship, kissing
a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe
word count: 2k
The sun hung low over the horizon, painting the sea in shades of gold and crimson as the Moby Dick rocked gently on the waves. The Whitebeard Pirates were in high spirits, fresh off a successful raid against a no name crew, their laughter and clinking mugs echoing across the deck. You leaned against the railing, the salty breeze tugging at your hair, watching the chaos unfold with a fond smile. Your boyfriend, Portgas D. Ace, was at the center of it all, naturally—shirtless, as usual, his freckled chest gleaming under the fading sunlight as he arm-wrestled Thatch for the last drumstick.
“Oi, Y/N!” Ace called, his voice cutting through the din as he pinned Thatch’s arm to the table with a triumphant grin. “You gonna cheer for your man or what?”
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “I’d cheer if you weren’t cheating, hotshot.”
“Cheating?!” Ace gasped, clutching his chest dramatically as Thatch groaned and rubbed his sore wrist. “baby, you wound me!”
The crew roared with laughter, and you couldn’t help but grin. Ace’s theatrics were as much a part of him as his flames, and you’d long since learned to roll with them. Your relationship with the Second Division Commander was a whirlwind of teasing, affection, and chaos—a perfect match for the fiery troublemaker who’d stolen your heart.
As the celebration continued, Ace sauntered over, slinging an arm around your shoulders. His skin was warm, as always, radiating heat like a living furnace. “Miss me?” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear.
You tilted your head to meet his dark eyes, smirking. “You were literally ten feet away, Ace.”
“And yet,” he said, leaning closer, “it felt like an eternity without you.”
You snorted, shoving him playfully. “You’re so full of it.”
“Only for you,” he winked, and before you could retort, he pressed a quick, soft kiss to your forehead. It was a fleeting gesture, but it sent a familiar warmth blooming in your chest. Ace had a habit of kissing you in the most unexpected moments—forehead, cheeks, nose, wherever he could land one. It was endearing, infuriating, and entirely him.
“Get a room, you two!” Marco called from across the deck, his lazy drawl laced with amusement.
“Jealous, Marco?” Ace shot back, grinning as he pulled you closer. “Don’t worry, I’ll save a kiss for you later.”
The First Division Commander chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll pass-yoi.”
The night wore on, and as the crew’s energy mellowed, you and Ace found a quiet corner of the deck. You sat cross-legged on a crate, while Ace sprawled out beside you, his head resting on your thigh. The stars were beginning to peek through the twilight sky, and the gentle lapping of waves against the ship created a soothing backdrop.
“You ever gonna stop kissing me in front of everyone?” you asked, running your fingers through his dark hair.
Ace cracked one eye open, his lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Why would I? Gotta show the world you’re mine.”
You flicked his forehead lightly. “Possessive much?”
“Only when it comes to you,” he said, catching your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Besides...you love it.”
You huffed, but you couldn’t deny the truth in his words. There was something about Ace’s unapologetic affection that made your heart race, even after all this time. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered.
“Cute?” he echoed, sitting up suddenly. “I’m devastatingly handsome, thank you very much.”
You laughed, shoving his shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that, Fire Fist.”
He gasped, clutching his heart again. “You’re brutal tonight, Y/N. I’m gonna need some serious TLC to recover from this.”
“Oh, poor baby,” you teased, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Better?”
Ace’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Not quite.” Before you could react, he cupped your face and pulled you into a proper kiss, his lips warm and firm against yours. It was slow and deliberate, the kind of kiss that made the world fade away. When he finally pulled back, you were both a little breathless.
“Better now?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.
“Much,” he murmured, his thumb brushing your cheek. “But I might need a few more to be sure.”
You rolled your eyes but didn’t resist as he kissed you again, this time on the corner of your mouth. “You’re impossible,” you said between kisses, your hands finding their way to his shoulders.
“And you love it,” he repeated, his voice low and teasing.
The next morning, the Moby Dick was abuzz with preparations for a potential skirmish. Some pirate crew had been spotted nearby, and Whitebeard had ordered the crew to stay on high alert. You were in the armory, checking your weapons, when Ace strolled in, his trademark grin firmly in place.
“Morning, beautiful,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.
You glanced up from sharpening your dagger, raising an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be helping with the cannons or something?”
“Probably,” he admitted, sauntering over. “But I’d rather be here with you.”
You shook your head, trying to focus on your task. “You’re gonna get us both in trouble, Ace.”
“Trouble’s my middle name,” he said, and before you could protest, he leaned down and kissed your cheek, his lips lingering just long enough to make your pulse jump.
“Ace!” you hissed, glancing around to make sure no one had seen. “We’re in the middle of prep!”
“What?” he said innocently, stepping back with his hands raised. “Just giving my favorite person a little morale boost.”
You pointed your dagger at him, narrowing your eyes. “Do that again, and I’ll morale-boost you right into the sea.”
He laughed, undeterred, and blew you a kiss as he backed out of the room. “Love you too, Y/N!”
You groaned, but a smile tugged at your lips. Damn him and his charm.
The skirmish came sooner than expected. By midday, some crew’s ship was bearing down on the Moby Dick, cannons roaring. The deck erupted into controlled chaos as Whitebeard’s crew sprang into action. You were in the thick of it, wielding your weapon with precision, fending off attackers alongside your crewmates.
Ace, of course, was a whirlwind of fire and fury, his flames lighting up the battlefield as he took down enemies with ease. You caught glimpses of him through the fray, his grin as wild as ever, like he was having the time of his life.
You were locked in combat with a burly swordsman when you felt a familiar presence at your back. Before you could turn, Ace’s voice was in your ear, low and playful. “Looking good out here, Y/N.”
“Are you serious right now?!” you shouted, parrying a strike from your opponent.
“Dead serious,” he said, and then—to your absolute disbelief—he grabbed your waist, spun you around, and planted a quick kiss on your forehead before dodging a sword swing aimed at his head.
“Ace, what the hell?!” you yelled, shoving him away as you refocused on your attacker.
“Motivation!” he called, already sprinting toward another group of enemies, flames trailing in his wake.
You cursed under your breath, but there was no time to dwell on it. The battle raged on, and you fought with renewed vigor, partly fueled by exasperation at your boyfriend’s antics. By the time the no name crew retreated, their ship limping away in defeat, you were sweaty, bruised, and ready to strangle Ace.
You found him leaning against a mast, wiping soot from his face. “So,” he said, grinning as you approached, “how’d I do?”
You crossed your arms, glaring. “You kissed me. In the middle of a battle.”
He shrugged, completely unrepentant. “Kept you on your toes, didn’t it?”
“I could’ve been stabbed!”
“Nah,” he said, stepping closer. “I’d never let that happen.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off with another kiss—this one on your lips, quick and fierce. “...You’re cute when you’re mad,” he said Lillolled, pulling back.
“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, but your anger was already fading.
“Unbelievably charming?” he offered, wagging his eyebrows.
“...Unbelievably annoying,” you shot back, but you couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your face.
That night, the crew celebrated their victory with a feast. The deck was alive with music, laughter, and the clatter of plates as Thatch served up a mountain of food. You sat beside Ace, who was predictably stealing bites from your plate.
“Hey! you have your own food,” you said, swatting his hand.
“Yours tastes better,” he said with a grin, popping a piece of meat into his mouth.
You sighed, but there was no real heat behind it. Ace’s arm was slung over the back of your chair, his fingers lazily tracing circles on your shoulder. Every now and then, he’d lean over to kiss your cheek or temple, each one earning a mix of groans and cheers from the crew.
“Oi, Ace, give it a rest!” Haruta called, tossing a roll at him.
Ace caught it midair, took a bite, and smirked. “Can’t help it. My girl’s too kissable.”
You elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“Good,” he said, kissing your forehead again. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”
Marco, sitting across from you, shook his head. “You two are disgusting-yoi.”
“Says the guy who’s jealous,” Ace teased, dodging a napkin Marco threw at him.
As the night wound down, you and Ace slipped away to the bow of the ship, where the noise of the party was a distant hum. You leaned against the railing, staring out at the moonlit sea, while Ace stood behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist.
“You know,” you said, leaning back against him, “one of these days, your kissing habit’s gonna get us in real trouble.”
“Worth it,” he murmured, his lips brushing the side of your neck. “Every kiss with you is worth a little trouble.”
You turned in his arms, looking up at him. “You’re such a sap.”
“Only for you,” he said, his voice soft and sincere. He kissed you again, slow and deep, and this time, you didn’t protest. The world could wait a little longer.
The next few days were quieter, the crew taking time to recover and repair the ship. You and Ace spent most of your free time together, whether it was sparring on the deck, sneaking into the kitchen to steal Thatch’s snacks, or just lounging in the sun. Ace’s kisses never stopped—on your cheek while you were reading, on your nose while you were tying a knot, on your lips when no one was looking. Each one was a spark, a reminder of how much he cared.
One afternoon, you were sitting in the crow’s nest, enjoying a rare moment of solitude, when Ace climbed up to join you. He plopped down beside you, his hat dangling from its string around his neck.
“Thought I’d find you up here,” he said, leaning back on his hands.
“Needed a break from your face,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder.
“Liar,” he said, grinning. He leaned over and kissed your cheek, then your jaw, then the corner of your mouth. “You can’t resist me.”
You laughed, pushing him away halfheartedly. “You’re relentless.”
“Relentlessly in love with you,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. He must’ve noticed your expression, because he softened, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You know that, right?”
You nodded, your throat tight. “Yeah...I know.”
He kissed you again, gentle and lingering, and you melted into it. For all his teasing and chaos, moments like this reminded you of the depth of his feelings. Ace was a lot of things—reckless, wild, infuriating—but he was also yours, heart and soul.
As you pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he murmured.
“Says the guy who kisses me in the middle of a fight,” you shot back.
He laughed, the sound vibrating through you. “Fair enough. Guess we’re both trouble.”
You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Good thing I like trouble.”
The days turned into weeks, and the Moby Dick sailed on, chasing adventure and freedom. Ace’s kisses never stopped being a source of chaos—whether it was a quick peck during a card game or a stolen makeout session in the storage room—but you wouldn’t have it any other way. He was your wildfire, your trouble, your home.
And every kiss was a promise that he’d always be there, burning bright.
