Just One Date
portgas d. ace x gn!reader
after many rejects you have to go on a date with ace and your plan is to do your worse to ruin it — you fail!
a/n: okay this one is made with the same prompt as the law one!
tags: first date, fluff, kinda enemies to lovers, soft, humor
word count: 4.4k
ace m.list || anime m.list || ao3 || ko-fi
You should have known this would happen.
It always starts the same way.
A lazy afternoon with the ship rocking gently and the crew scattered across the deck.
And him…
Always him…
“Hey.”
You don’t look at him “No.”
Ace laughs.
You don’t even need to see his face to know he’s smiling.
“I didn’t even ask yet.”
“You were going to.”
“Yeah.” he admits easily.
You sigh and finally look at him.
He’s sitting backwards on a chair, arms folded over the backrest, chin resting on them like this is the most natural thing in the world.
“You should really start saving yourself the effort,” you mutter “it’s still no.”
“C’mon,” he says lightly “just one date.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
You stare at him… because you’re tired, because he’s warm and loud and impossible to ignore, because everyone loves him, because you don’t trust things that feel that easy.
You look away “Because I said so.”
Ace tilts his head.
He doesn’t push immediately.
“…You don’t even hesitate.” he says quietly.
“I don’t need to.”
“Alright,” he says, standing “means I’ll ask again tomorrow.”
You groan “You’re insufferable.”
“You’ll miss me when I stop.”
You snort “That’s not happening.”
He just smiles like he knows something you don’t.
You hate that smile. You hate how it makes your chest feel weird.
It becomes routine annoyingly fast.
Breakfast?
“Morning. Date?”
“No.”
Lunch?
“So, later?”
“No.”
Training deck?
“You know, sunsets are romantic.”
“No.”
Evening?
“One day you’re gonna say yes.”
“In your dreams maybe.”
You tell yourself it’s harmless, he’s just like this… persistent and bright.
He asks like it’s a joke, like it doesn’t matter, like your answer doesn’t carry weight.
That’s why you keep saying no. Maybe if it mattered you don’t let yourself finish that thought.
“You’re being mean.”
You look up.
Thatch is leaning against the railing, watching you with an amused expression.
“I’m being realistic.” you reply.
“He likes you, you know.”
You immediately stiffen “No he doesn’t.”
Thatch raises an eyebrow “Kid, he asks you out every single day.”
“He asks everyone for things.” you argue.
“Not like that.”
You glare at the deck “He’ll get bored soon or later.”
Thatch goes quiet “…Is that what you’re waiting for?”
You don’t answer.
You know that at first people burn bright, but then they leave ashes.
You don’t say it out loud, but something must show on your face because Thatch’s expression softens.
“He’s not like that.” he says gently.
You shake your head “They all are.”
You almost forget about it.
Until that night.
You’re heading below deck when you see him sitting on the railing, legs dangling over the sea, firelight flickering faintly in his palm.
You try to walk past quietly.
“Hey.” he sayv without turning.
You stop “…What?”
He looks over his shoulder, softer now. This time there's no grin… no teasing.
“You never actually told me why.”
Your chest tightens “Why what?”
“Why you keep saying no.”
You cross your arms “I don’t owe you an explanation.”
He nods “You’re right.”
And that should be the end of it, but he keeps looking at you as if he's waiting for something.
It makes something twist inside you and you hate that, so you go on the offensive.
“You ask like it’s nothing,” you say sharply “like it’s just a game. And to be honest, I just don't like playing.”
His brows knit slightly “It’s not a game.”
“Then why do you keep asking?” you snap “You barely even know me.”
That’s not true and you both know it, but you say it anyway. Because distance is safer than honesty.
Ace looks at you for a long moment, then he looks back at the ocean.
“…I know enough.” he says quietly.
Something in your throat tightens.
You hate this.
You hate how he says things like that.
Simple.
Honest.
You look away.
“You’ll get tired of it,” you say “everyone does.”
The words slip out before you can stop them.
Ace goes very still.
“…Is that what you think?” he asks softly.
You don’t answer… because yes.
“…One date.” he says.
You blink “What?”
“One.” he repeats “That’s it.”
You stare at him.
He’s not smiling. Not joking.
“If you still don’t want me around after that,” he says, voice steady, “I’ll stop asking.”
Your heart stutters.
You frown “You’re serious.”
“Yeah.”
You study his face, searching for the punchline. There isn’t one.
That makes it worse.
You should say no.
You want to say no.
You open your mouth… and hesitate.
One date.
And that will be proof that the warmth is temporary, that he’ll lose interest and that you’re right.
You inhale slowly “…Fine.”
The word slips out before you can stop it.
Ace freezes.
“You’re joking.” he says.
“I’m not,” you mutter immediately, “but don’t get too excited.”
Too late because his entire face lights up like sunrise.
You regret everything instantly.
“Just one,” you warn “and if I won't change my mind about you, you stop asking.”
He laughs, bright and disbelieving “Deal.”
You turn away quickly before you can see how happy he looks.
As you walk off, you don’t notice the way his smile softens into something quieter.
“…One date…” he murmurs to himself like it’s something precious, like it matters more than he’s letting on.
You regret agreeing immediately.
It starts the second the ship docks.
A new island.
You’re halfway through stretching your arms when you hear “Hey!”
You don’t even have to turn around.
“No.” you say automatically.
“I didn’t ask yet!”
You groan into your hands.
Too early for this.
You turn slowly.
He’s already looking at you like a kid who just remembered a holiday.
“…Today.” he says, pointing at the island like it personally owes him something “We’re here. New place. Perfect timing.”
Your stomach drops “No.”
His grin widens “You promised.”
You hate that he’s right.
“…Fine,” you mutter “later.”
“Now.” he says immediately.
You stare at him.
He looks genuinely hopeful.
That makes it worse.
“…Give me time to get ready.” you grumble.
His face lights up again “Okay!”
You don’t get ready.
You stare at your clothes for a long time.
You could dress up.
You could make an effort.
You could make this feel real.
But at the end you grab the same clothes you always wear.
If this is going to end badly, you’re not dressing for the occasion.
You step out of your room with zero ceremony and immediately freeze… because the entire crew is on deck.
And at the center of it? Him.
Leaning against the railing.
Surrounded.
Grinning nervously while everyone absolutely destroys him.
“Look at him!” someone laughs “He’s pacing!”
“You’ve been up here for an hour!”
“Did you bring flowers??”
“I swear if you start crying—”
“I am not gonna cry!” Ace protests.
You almost turn around but it’s too late.
Someone already spotted you “Oh!”
Heads turn.
You consider jumping overboard but you step forward instead.
You’re hyperaware of everything. The way the crew goes quiet. The way some of them grin.
The way Ace turns and stops completely. His expression softens instantly.
Not surprised.
Not disappointed.
Just… soft.
Like he expected you exactly like this.
You look away quickly.
“…What?” you mutter defensively “I said I’d come. I didn’t say I’d dress up.”
“I didn’t expect you to.” he says gently.
You blink and risk a glance.
He means it.
That annoys you more than anything.
You cross your arms “Good.”
Behind him, someone coughs dramatically.
“Oh my god he’s gone soft.”
“Look at his face!”
“He’s doomed.”
You want to disappear.
Ace groans “You guys are the worst.”
Then he turns back to you and pulls something from behind his back.
Your brain short-circuits.
A handful of bright flowers tied together with a thin string.
Your stomach drops.
You were not prepared for that.
“…I, uh…” he says, suddenly awkward “Found them earlier.”
The deck is too quiet.
You don’t know what to do with your hands. You don’t know what to do with your face.
No one warned you there would be flowers.
You stare at them, then at him.
He looks weirdly nervous now.
“…You didn’t have to.” you say quickly.
“I wanted to.”
Simple.
You take them and your fingers brush his.
Warm.
You immediately pull back.
“…Thanks.” you mutter.
You don’t look at him.
You can feel the crew vibrating with contained chaos.
Someone is absolutely about to scream.
You panic.
You pass the flowers to the nearest person without looking.
“Here.” you say, shoving the bouquet into their hands “Put these in water. I guess.”
They freeze “You just—”
You’re already walking away, off the ship, before anyone can react or say anything.
Before you can think too hard about how your hands are shaking.
“Hey— wait!” of course he follows.
You hear his footsteps hitting the dock behind you, light and quick.
You don’t slow down.
He catches up easily and he doesn’t say anything for a second.
You shove your hands into your pockets.
“…So,” you mutter, not looking at him “what’s the plan?”
He lights up.
“Oh! Okay, so—” he starts, already talking with his hands “I asked around earlier, and there’s this market near the center of town? And they’ve got food stalls and music and—”
You glance at him despite yourself.
He’s animated and excited.
“And then,” he continues, barely pausing for air, “there’s this hill that overlooks the harbor. Someone said the sunset’s really good from there. I figured we could go later, if you’re not tired, I mean, we don’t have to—”
He stops suddenly, like he just realized he’s rambling.
“…Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his neck “I might’ve planned too much.”
You didn’t expect this.
You look away quickly when you realise you're staring.
“…You’re doing a lot for one date.” you say.
He shrugs, a little sheepish “I told you it mattered.”
Your chest tightens.
You weren’t supposed to hear that.
You kick a small pebble on the dock.
“…You’re weird.” you mutter.
He grins again, softer “Yeah.”
You exhale slowly.
This is already going wrong.
You tell yourself this is still a mission for you.
A very important one, make Ace stop liking you.
It should be easy.
You’ve survived worse, life threatening missions.
The island is loud and bright and alive, full of music and chatter and colors that feel way too cheerful for your mood. You still walk a step ahead of Ace, hands shoved into your pockets, trying to look as uninterested as possible.
He’s doing the opposite.
He’s practically bouncing beside you.
“So first,” he says, pointing dramatically down the street, “food.”
You sigh “Of course it is.”
“You can’t have a proper date without food.” he insists.
“It’s not a date.”
He grins “Sure.”
You glare at him.
He just keeps smiling.
Very annoying.
The food stall smells amazing. Which is unfortunate, because you’re trying to be awful, not enjoy yourself.
Ace orders like he hasn’t eaten in years, stacking plates between you both until the tiny wooden table looks like it might collapse.
You stare at the mountain of food “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Nope,” he says cheerfully “just trying to impress you.”
You snort “With carbs? Not that I mind them but…”
“With love.” he corrects.
You immediately shove food into your mouth so you don’t have to answer.
You eat fast and messy on purpose. Sauce drips on your fingers. Rice falls everywhere. You chew loudly. You even slouch.
You are the worst date in existence.
You even burp. Loud.
Okay… that might’ve been too much.
You slowly look up, ready to see horror, regret, disgust.
Ace’s eyes go wide.
And then he smiles “Nice.”
Before you can react he leans back and lets out a burp that is way louder than yours.
You stare at him in disbelief.
He looks proud.
“That was amazing,” he says, wiping his mouth “You’re amazing.”
“…You’re disgusting…” you say weakly.
He laughs like you just told the best joke in the world.
And somehow, against your will, your lips twitch.
You leave before the smile can betray you.
The market is even more crowded now, people brushing past you, music drifting from somewhere nearby.
You spot a stall filled with random accessories, bright scarves, weird hats, gaudy trinkets.
You stop suddenly.
Ace almost walks into you.
“What?” he asks.
You point at the ugliest thing you can find.
It’s… a hat, if you can even call it that.
It’s oversized, neon orange, with fake feathers sticking out and little dangling bells that jingle when the wind moves.
You stare at it with the most serious face you can manage “That would look good on you.”
You expect confusion, maybe offense, at least hesitation.
Instead Ace’s eyes light up “Really?”
You blink “No, I—”
Too late because he grabs it.
“How much?” he asks the vendor.
You stare, horrified, as he slaps the coins down and plops the monstrosity onto his head.
It is worse than you imagined.
He turns to you, glowing “Well?”
You really try…… You press your lips together, looking away, pretending to inspect another stall. But you see him in your peripheral vision, standing there like an excited kid, waiting for your reaction.
And then a small, accidental but real laugh escapes.
Your hand flies to your mouth too late.
Ace goes still.
You freeze too.
He’s staring at you softly.
“You smiled…” he says quietly.
You immediately look away “Don’t get used to it.”
His grin returns, brighter than before.
You need to regain control.
Your eyes scan the market until they land on a display inside a fancy shop window.
Jewelry. Ridiculously expensive-looking.
You walk straight toward it.
Ace follows, bells jingling with every step.
You stop in front of the display and point at the most over-the-top item you can find.
A bracelet.
Studded with gemstones that probably cost more than an entire ship “I want that.”
You say it flatly.
The worst version of yourself.
Ace doesn’t even hesitate “Okay.”
He walks inside.
You stare.
No no no.
You rush after him “Wait—”
Too late.
He’s already talking to the shopkeeper “How much for that one?”
The number the shopkeeper says makes your stomach drop.
You almost choke.
That’s not expensive.
That’s catastrophic.
And Ace… just nods.
Reaches for his pouch.
Your heart leaps into your throat.
Is he insane?!
“That’s the crew’s money.” you hiss, grabbing his wrist.
The moment your fingers wrap around his arm he stops.
You feel his warmth immediately.
You look up and see that his face is red all the way to his ears.
You realize you’re still holding him.
Your brain short-circuits.
You let go like you’ve been burned.
“I— don’t buy it.” you mutter, suddenly very interested in the floor “It’s ugly anyway.”
Silence.
You risk a glance.
He’s still looking at you.
Still flushed.
Then he smiles.
“Okay.” he says quietly.
And somehow that makes your chest feel weird. In a way that has (unfortunately) nothing to do with you ruining the date anymore.
You don’t notice when it happens and that’s the worst part. At some point between the ugly hat, the food, the chaos, and the warmth of his laugh… you stop trying to ruin the date. You stop planning your next disaster. You stop thinking about how to ruin the moment.
And somehow, you’re actually having fun.
The kind that sneaks up on you and sits quietly in your chest until you suddenly realize it’s there.
You’re laughing at something stupid he says.
You’re pointing at random things for fun now, not to test his patience.
You’re arguing about which stall smells better.
You forget to be difficult.
You forget to be cold.
You forget your own plan.
And that realization hits you like a brick.
You’re still trying to process that terrifying truth when Ace suddenly stops walking.
“We’re close.” he says, softer now.
You blink “To what?”
He looks at you, and for once, he’s not grinning like an idiot “The last part.”
The fireworks.
You swallow “…Lead the way.”
The climb isn’t hard, but it’s quiet.
The noise of the island fades behind you with every step, replaced by wind and distant music and chatter drifting up from the town below.
When you reach the top, you stop without meaning to.
It’s beautiful.
The hill overlooks the entire island, lights scattered below like fallen stars. The ocean stretches endlessly beyond it, reflecting the moon.
And there’s a bench.
You look at him.
He shrugs, suddenly shy “I found it earlier.”
You don’t tease him, you just sit.
He sits beside you, not too close but not too far.
The sky above is clear, scattered with stars that feel brighter away from the island lights.
For a while, neither of you speaks, but it’s not awkward, it’s… calm.
You hate how much you like it.
Ace is quieter and softer. Even his energy feels warmer instead of his usual loudness.
When he finally speaks, his voice is low.
“Still early,” he murmurs, looking up “fireworks aren’t for a bit.”
You nod.
You should say something sarcastic, something mean, something that puts the distance back where it belongs.
Instead, you hear yourself ask, “Did you come here earlier?”
He smiles faintly “Nah. First time.”
“…Then how were you so sure about it?”
He scratches the back of his neck “I asked around. Wanted somewhere… special. And a lot of people pointed at this.”
Your heart stutters.
You stare harder at the sky.
You realize you’re staring at him. You don’t even know when you started…
Maybe when his voice softened, maybe when the wind moved his hair, or maybe when he stopped trying to impress you and just… existed.
You’re staring way too much.
You force yourself to look away but then he speaks again “You know?”
Your chest tightens.
“I don’t know how you feel now about this date,” he says quietly, eyes still on the sky “but I was and still am serious about it… and about you.”
Your breath catches.
He doesn’t look at you.
“I’m not asking you out just for the fun of it as you said…” he continues “I had a crush on you since… ever.”
Your brain goes blank.
The words don’t feel real, they float in the air between you, fragile and warm.
You can’t move, can’t speak.
And he keeps going.
“You said I don’t even know you,” he murmurs “but I actually know a lot.”
Your hands tighten in your lap.
“I know that you like…” and he does a full list of things you really like and that you thought no one knew.
He continues “I know that you hate loud mornings. That you pretend you don’t care about sunsets but you always look at them. That you act tough when you’re tired. That you hum when you think no one’s listening.”
Your heart is pounding now, too fast and too loud.
“And I know you hate…” he continues softly, almost smiling “being the center of attention. People touching your stuff without asking. Losing at card games. When people lie to you.”
You can’t breathe.
You can’t think.
He exhales slowly.
“And I know about your past,” he adds quietly “about everything that happened to you…”
Your eyes burn.
“And not to look like a stalker,” he says quickly, almost nervous now, smiling at the sky to not look at you “but we’ve been friends. You’re the one who told me all these things. I just… listened. And paid attention to the details.”
Silence. The kind that wraps around you and squeezes your chest.
You don’t know what to do with this… or with him and the fact that he noticed, that he remembered.
That he cared.
A distant boom cracks the air.
The first firework explodes above the island, blooming into color.
Ace’s face and eyes light up in pure awe, like a child seeing magic for the first time.
You don’t look at the fireworks. You can’t because you can’t stop staring at him from the shock of the things he said.
And suddenly, everything makes sense.
Why he kept asking.
Why he never gave up.
Why he looked at you like that.
Why today felt different.
Why your chest feels like it’s about to burst.
You’ve been trying so hard to push him away.
And he’s just been… there.
You swallow.
Your voice comes out small “Ace...”
He turns immediately, half worried from your tone and half still dreamy from the fireworks and from everything he had the courage to say.
“Yeah?”
And that’s the moment, the point of no return.
Before your brain can stop you, your hands reach up, cupping his cheeks.
He freezes completely.
His freckles are closer than you’ve ever seen them.
His eyes widen and you kiss him softly and carefully. For a heartbeat, he don’t move, still in pure shock.
Then he closes his eyes and he melts in the kiss as his hand comes up instinctively, fingers brushing your wrist before sliding to your waist.
He kisses you back, deeper and warmer, taking the lead without hesitation.
Fireworks explode behind you two, lighting the sky in bursts of lights and warm colours, but you barely see them., all you feel is warmth and him, and the way your chest finally feels right.
When you pull back, you’re both breathless and stunned. A little dazed.
You rest your forehead against his for a second before whispering “I’m glad you made me change my mind about this date…”
He stares at you like you just gave him the world.
Then he smiles brightly, and before you can get embarrassed he leans in and kisses you again quick and happy, like he can’t help it.
Then he pulls you into a hug, arms wrapping around you tight and warm as if he’s having a cute aggression.
You don’t resist.
As he calms down, you lean into him, resting against his chest as the fireworks continue to bloom across the sky, and finally you watch them together.
The walk back is quiet, but not awkward.
Your fingers are laced with his, warm and solid and very, very real.
Every now and then, Ace swings your joined hands slightly like he can’t help himself, like he’s having the best moment of his life.
You just smile and let him, and, of course, you don’t let go.
The island is calmer now. The festival has started winding down, lanterns glowing softer, laughter drifting through the streets like echoes instead of noise.
“You’re quiet.” Ace murmurs.
You glance at him “So are you.”
He grins sheepishly “I’m trying not to mess it up.”
Your chest tightens “Mess what up?”
He squeezes your hand gently “This.”
Your ears burn.
You look away immediately “You’re being dramatic.”
“Always have been.” he says easily.
You try to roll your eyes, but the smile creeping onto your face betrays you.
He notices and his grin grows.
The ship comes into view too soon.
You stop walking.
Ace takes one more step before realizing you’re not moving anymore.
He turns “Hey, what—”
You’re staring at the Moby Dick like it personally betrayed you.
“…We have to face them…” you mutter.
The realization hits “Oh.”
You both look at the ship, then at each other, then back at the ship.
You can almost hear the chaos waiting up there.
Ace scratches his cheek “We could… run away.”
You snort “We’d last five minutes before Marco finds us.”
“…Fair.”
You sigh deeply.
You’ve fought marines. Sea kings. Warlords. And somehow, this feels worse.
You climb aboard together still holding hands.
You don’t realize you’re still doing it until you hear an… “OH MY GOD.”
Way too late.
Half the crew is already there like vultures waiting, watching and smiling.
You and Ace freeze.
Your hands are still linked.
Someone drops something dramatically in the background.
“I KNEW IT!” someone shouts.
“PAY UP!” another voice yells.
You close your eyes slowly.
This is a nightmare. A living, breathing nightmare.
“SO…” a voice sings.
You open one eye.
Of course it’s Thatch, grinning like he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment.
You immediately try to let go of Ace’s hand but he tightens his grip and the traitor he is.
You shoot him a look and he looks back with a sheepish smile that says sorry not sorry.
Unbelievable.
“Well?” Thatch leans forward “How was the date?”
“It wasn’t a date.” you say instantly.
“It was the best date.” Ace says at the exact same time.
You both turn to glare at each other.
The crew explodes in laughter and whistles. Someone is clapping like they’re at a play.
You consider jumping overboard.
Marco is leaning against the railing, smirking in that calm, knowing way that makes everything worse.
“So,” he says lazily, “you finally figured it out, huh?”
“Figured what out?” you snap.
He just gestures vaguely at your hands.
You look down and your face burns.
“You kissed, didn’t you?” someone shouts.
You and Ace choke.
The crew goes feral.
You try to yank your hand free again and this time, Ace lets go, but not because he wants to, you can tell.
He rubs the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly “Okay, okay, that’s enough—”
“DID YOU CRY?” someone yells.
“WERE THERE FIREWORKS?”
You and Ace freeze painfully slowly, and look at each other.
The crew goes silent. Then erupts louder than before.
You bury your face in your hands.
You’re never recovering from this.
You might actually die right here on this deck from embarrassment instead of the pirate life.
Then warm fingers brush yours again, tentative and careful.
You look up.
Ace isn’t laughing anymore.
He’s smiling softly at you, and suddenly, the noise fades a little.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
You should lie, but instead, you sigh “…No.”
He laughs softly, then, without hesitation, he takes your hand again, firm this time.
Your heart flips.
The crew notices immediately, but this time, you don’t let go, you squeeze back.
And the teasing doesn’t stop, the laughter doesn’t stop, the chaos definitely doesn’t stop, but for this time you don’t mind facing it, because you’re not facing it alone.
