Portagas D. Ace - Blog Posts

Complications |Master List|

Ace x Reader, fluff, crack, sfw, minor swearing

Summary: School stresses you out, and Ace is there to motivate you!

A/N: Yeesh . . . college isn’t easy, and it definitely isn’t everyone’s thing. I hope this fic reaches those who need it, and you’re motivated! Best wishes to the person who requested this, and best wishes to those who have an upcoming test/exam/quiz!

•-•-•—•-•-••-•-•—•-•—•-•

Working in your room, unbothered, your journal lies in-front of you.

The clock reads: 2:25pm, by your side, and you know you’ve already wasted half the day. You’d been procrastinating since this morning, changing up tasks, and different schedules—to avoid this very moment.

But, you couldn’t ignore it forever, so here you were now. Begrudgingly studying.

SLAM

“____!” Ace swung your door open, peeking in.

You flinched, throwing your pencil up as you shouted. “Oi! Don’t scare me like that!”

“Oh, there you are!” he piped, smiling as he came in, completely disregarding your startle. He through his arms around your shoulder, holding you as he looked to what you were working on.

His head rested above yours, and a look of disgust crossed his face. “Ew. What is that?”

“What’s what?” You sighed, sinking into your chair.

“What do you mean what—oh my god,” he gasped, “Are you working on math?”

“Yes?”

“Ew.” he deadpanned, scrunching his nose.

“It’s not ew, go away if you’re just gonna be annoying.” you grumbled, pulling your journal to hide it as he inched closer.

“Ace—“

Curiously, Ace reached to grab the journal, flipping through the messied pages. He raised a brow, seeing organized definitions . . . to the very un-organized ones.

The hot-head read it as if he could, nodding in understatement before he set it down. He leaned against your chair, flipping to a certain page.

“What’s this mean?” he asked, pointing to a scribbled equation with a poorly drawn ‘fuck this!’ with arrow beside it.

Along with a few other curses and symbols.

You cleared your throat, averting your gaze.

“Look, I’m trying here, don’t judge.” you crossed your arms, averting your gaze.

“I’m not judging,” he shrugged, flipping to a page—where you’d actually gotten an answer.

“Hey, you got this one.” he smiled, patting your shoulder, encouragingly rubbing it to your neck.

“Yeah, and I barely understood it.” you grumbled.

“But you still got it.”

“Barely.”

“But . . . you still got it.” he repeated.

You scoffed, looking away.

Yeah, it was true, you’d got it.

But you didn’t understand it. You’d didn’t get all the material. Maybe in sections, but once you put everything together and you were under-pressure? You’d flunk it. You’d mess it up again.

And in a few weeks, there’d be expectations and things you were ready for, expected to understand, but couldn’t.

“Yeah, barely.” you whispered, growing quiet. Your eyes glossed with tears, and you lowered your head.

“Hey.” Ace nudged, “What wrong?”

“Nothing.”

You shifted up, closing your journal, letting it glide towards the others. You let out a shaky breath, holding your tongue.

Great. That was just more things you needed to study for.

Tears welled.

“____,” he murmured, grabbing your arm.

“Hey, look at me.” Ace pulled you to face him, plopping you to the chair as he kneeled in-front of you. He rested his arms on your thighs, leaning in.

“Hey, you’re doing good. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“I’m not.” you answered, rubbing your face.

“I’m just frustrated and stressed out.”

Ace paused, not expecting you to answer, but agreed. “Yeah, you are.”

“What? Don’t look at me like that, you’ve been stressing over this thing forever.” he grabbed the journal, placing it in your lap. “I’m not completely clueless.”

“I know you’re not, I just. . .”

“Yeah, I know, but look.” he grabbed your chin, tilting it down.

“See this thing here?” Ace gestured to the book, hitting it against your leg. The paper snapped softly throughout the room, and you paused before answering.

“Yeah?”

“You’re trying, ____, and that’s a lot more than other people can say.” he smirked, letting it drop in your lap.

“Look, I know that test—or exam, or whatever the hell you’re working so hard for is important, but you don’t need to worry so much.”

Ace leaned closer, smiling. “You’re smart, really smart, even if that stupid test says otherwise. I know it, deep down you know it, so stop freaking out.”

“You got it, you always do.” he smoothed, poking your forehead.

“I know, that’s why I’m studying but it still doesn’t make sense.” you tried.

“Because you’re thinking too much.” he poked you again, harder this time—making you wince.

“That’s not even a thing,” you muttered, grabbing the journal, but Ace took it right out of your hands.

“Oh—trust me, it is.” he laughed, pulling back.

“You’re doing it now, sitting here crying, and I’m not saying you shouldn’t, get frustrated all you want, but this?” he shook the paper, “doesn’t decide your worth. Even if people say it does.”

“You’re working hard, hard enough anyone out who’s smart enough to realize it, will. So don’t beat yourself up about it.” he smirked, pulling you up.

“You’ll get there, I know you will.” he cupped your face, smoothing over your tears.

You sniffled, lowering your gaze. “You think so?”

Slowly, Ace leaned forward. “I know so, and I’m proud of you for trying, even if it’s hard. You’re getting closer—trust me on that, and you’re getting better without even realizing.”

Gently, his lips met yours. Ace’s kiss was soft, reassuring, and sweet. His hands traveled to your waist, and his forehead leaned against yours.

Steady, and calming.

“You’ll get it right, I know you will. You’re gonna do great.”

As The Day Slips By

|Master-list|

Ace x Reader, angst, mentions of depression, suicidal thoughts, soley for comforting purposes, platonic love with the White-beard Pirates.

Summary: Things get rough, and hit by hit you’re just tired of it all.

A/N: To anyone who needs this, I hope it helps. You’re a lot stronger than you think >:) @uramakimochi

•-•-•—•-•-••-•-•—•-•—•-•

It started small.

From a simple mistake, to the tragedies of your life to the very questioning of your future. You were scared. Of living, no, correction—surviving, to just existing to fail.

The lingering question consumed you:

Would it even be worth it?

With all the trouble you’ve gone through now?

The expectations, the asks, the responsibilities—would you ever meet them?

Would you ever accomplish them?

The wind replied, brushing past as you stood on the Moby Dick, stationed near the stern. The sun was setting, and the decks were quiet. The aftermath of dinner flew by, and the crew headed to bed, while others slipped to night-watch.

Crying, you lowered yourself to the rail. resting your head against your arms. An unbearable feeling took over, and it made your chest tight. Numbing, and lost, you now experienced while in the inevitable of your depression.

You knew it wouldn’t be long till someone found you, but you needed to let it out, to breathe. Especially after hours of avoiding a hot-headed pirate.

Ace’s and your relationship had been on a rocky stand-hold. You weren’t opening up, and you were avoiding the topic of obvious like the plague, even if offered help. Anxiety prevented you from speaking out, while the simmering stubbornness left you lost.

You hadn’t realized it, but he’d been watching from afar; lingering as you made yourself small and hidden, left achingly worried.

Ace took a step, but hesitated. He was scared if he made the wrong move, he might just break you.

You’d already drifted so far, to the point Ace, the crew—everyone saw it. The heaviness that surrounded you, a silent weight that held you back, and a mindless stare the left them nervous.

It wasn’t impossible to reach you, the crew understood that, and Ace knew it better than anyone; he just needed to find the right words.

He needed to find the right time, and that was now.

Ace’s steps were quiet, just like the way you cried. He didn’t want to startle you—that was the last thing he wanted, and it was the last thing you needed.

Carefully, he came to your side, just barely brushing your shoulder. Inviting, but not pressuring.

Watching the waves, a moment passed before he spoke.

“You weren’t at dinner.”

You sniffled, wiping your tears to turn away. “I was busy…with something.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “I figured.”

Silence shrouded, and you couldn’t find the courage to speak. You felt weak, vulnerable—incompetent.

Though, Ace never pushed.

Not really, anyway.

“Have you. . .” Another painful moment.

“. . . been thinking about it again?” he asked, leaning against the rail. His tone was soft, not accusing, just questioning… and sad.

Ace wasn’t judging, he’d never, but his comment laced your throat. You were left speechless, drowning in your own shame and his truth, by his blunt words.

You managed a shaky breath, subtly squeezing the rail. You felt frozen.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, placing his hand by yours. “I get it, I really do.”

His pinky inched forward, wrapping around your own. To anyone, it’d feel small, but to you—in a moment like this?

It meant a lot.

“You don’t even need to give me a reason.”

Wind rustled by, combing your hair and smearing your tears.

“I’m just tired, Ace,” you whispered, turning to him. “I’m so tired of this.” your voice cracked, and he held your gaze.

His expression turned, and he tensed.

Ace’s eyes glossed with tears, and he stepped forward—almost fiercely. But not pushing.

His arms extended, and softly, he whispered your name. “Come here.”

You took a weak step forward, and in an instant he hugged you. “It’s okay,” he muttered, grabbing the back of your head. “It’s gonna be okay. You hear me?”

You collapsed against him, clutching his shirt— as if it was the only thing keeping you there.

Because truthfully, it was.

“Its just so hard.” you choked.

“I know.” he held you, holding you to the point you couldn’t breath. But you couldn’t care, you needed this more than anything.

“I know it is.”

The sky welled blue, stirring in with darker colors and gray clouds. Seagulls flew over-head, nesting in the ship brackets and windows to hide for a storm.

Just like you were in Ace’s arms, sheltered from your mind. Safe.

“I got you,” Ace’s voice wavered, but it was grounding. With pouring emotion he kissed your temple. “I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not letting go, you’re stuck with me.”

“You got that?”

You managed a nod, and he held you closer.

“You don’t have to be strong for me,” he whispered, “you never do, not even for the crew. You just have to stay. That’s it, just stay.”

You cried, tilting your head and he cupped the back of it. “What am I gonna do?” You voiced, looking up to him. “I-I dont, I don’t know anymore.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Ace said firmly, brushing your tears. “You always do, it just takes time. Just a little more time, just me and you, it’ll be okay.”

“What if it isn’t—what if I screw everything up?”

“You won’t ____. You never do. Nothing is perfect, you can’t always expect that of yourself.”

Ace’s finger poked your forehead, making you wince. “Don’t listen to that, whatever it’s telling you—ignore it. It’s just being a pain in the ass, and you don’t deserve it.”

A softer moment passed, border-lining vulnerable. “You hear me?”

“Yeah…” you whispered, wiping your tears.

“Good. You got it, maybe not now, but you will. I know you will.” Ace kissed the corner of your eye, bringing his head forehead to yours. His nose grazed the tip of yours, and his voice sounded below a whisper.

“I love you,” he murmured. “No matter what happens, that’ll never change, okay?”

“Okay.”

For the first time in weeks, maybe even months— you could breathe. Finally breathe. Under the light drizzle of rain, his reassurance, and love, broke through the numb that swallowed you whole.

The wind brisked cold, and you shivered stepping closer.

“Shh,” he hushed, heating his body to warm you. “It’s okay, I got you.”

Like a blanket out of the dryer, the fire of his body heat surrounded you, following to your heart. Completed in his presence, Ace was by your side, and he made it clear he wasn’t letting you go.

Not for a long time.