A stabbed heart ◕︵◕

“Just hold on, I won’t let you fall.” Law held out a gloved hand to you and when you laced your fingers with his, he squeezed your hand in a gesture of comfort and security.

The ice was bright. Glaring sun reflected off its smooth surface, marred in places by the tracks that metal blades drew on top. The ice rink was empty except the two of you, the clearing in the forest was gorgeous and quiet, the sky was bright blue—it was picturesque, dream-like.

As Law guided you across the ice, you wobbled a bit.

“You’re favoring your right foot,” Law pointed out, looking down at your form while you struggled to keep up with his already-slow pace. “Make sure to put your weight evenly on both skates and lead with both interchangeably. Good form means you can do cool stuff later.”

He smiled at your look of dismay (it was quite endearing to him). You groaned. “Aghhhh. Okay. Like this?” Your adjustment looked adequate enough to him and he nodded.

The only thing audible after a while was the smooth sound of your skates moving almost in tandem with each other, cutting the surface of the icy rink.

“You’ve been skating since you were a kid, right?” You asked Law and he nodded.

“Yeah, I went when I was growing up a lot with my parents and sister but… After… Well, you know. Certain circumstances meant I didn’t make a habit of it for a long time. It was only when the Heart Pirates formed and got more comfortable in the North Blue sea that we had time and safety to do that sort of stuff. To have fun, I mean.”

Some silence passed. Comfortable silence. You slipped and almost fell, but Law held you up. As you looked up at him, he cracked a smile.

“See? You’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

You blushed. It had been a minute since your faces were this close. When you were back to skating after your almost-wipeout, you felt steadier and more confident.

“There you go,” Law encouraged. “You’re getting the hang of it. That was fast.”

A few laps around the rink with Law holding you steady and he decided you’d be set to try it on your own. “I’m going to make you do it yourself now. You ready?”

When you agreed, you skated side by side for a while. It was a gorgeous day and every ray of sun that reflected off the ice surface of the rink and onto his face made your heart flip. He was so handsome it was mind boggling. When light filtered onto his hair, you saw how rich the color of those dark locks was. Multi-dimensional and stunning. Just like his eyes. And while you quietly remarked on his beauty to yourself, he did the same for you.

“You can do cool tricks, right?” You asked him playfully after a while.

“You’re not going to actually make me do some, are you?” Law responded, frowning. He hated this sort of thing. He felt like a clown. But… if you were asking, then he’d have to oblige. Anything for you.

He begrudgingly put on a little show. He was obviously comfortable on the ice, skating backwards for a bit before doing some sort of cool twisting thing. A jump and a fast turn. It was impressive.

“Woooowwwwww,” you clapped when he came to a stop next to you. “That was crazy impressive. What else can you do?”

You smiled at him, and he froze for a second, turning crimson. You saw his gears turning.

“How about this?” Law asked, then reached for your hand and softly pulled you towards him. When you were close enough, he placed a hand on your waist and pulled you into a kiss.

He certainly caught you by surprise. It had been a while since you locked lips—circumstantially, you didn’t have much time for it on the ship.

Any opportunity for affection or quality time was treasured. Ice skating like this and taking a break from everything on the sea felt like a vacation, a reprieve from every painful wound you both held. If you thought about it long enough, you would have realized that this was the first actual date Law had taken you on.

When he pulled away from the kiss, you were both smiling. “I mean, that wasn’t what I had in mind, but I’m not complaining,” you giggled.

“Well, if you’re not complaining then, by all means,” Law brought a hand to your cheek and guided his lips to yours again.

His kisses were delicate. After a few moments, he pulled away. His cheeks were dusted pink with blush and his hand stayed on your cheek for a minute as he took in the sight of your face, so pretty and so close to him.

“Let’s take a break,” Law said. “That sound okay?”

When you agreed and exited the skating rink, Law set up a place for you to sit together. A waterproof blanket below, a fuzzy blanket on top, thermoses of spiked, piping-hot cocoa, and some snacks.

You snacked together and warmed yourself to the bone with the hot cocoa. It was a picture-perfect set up, thoughtful and considerate just like Law himself. After more skating and a snowy trek back to the Polar Tang, the crew couldn’t contain their excitement seeing you and the captain hand in hand with ruddy cheeks. They had matchmaked for far too long—now that it was a reality, they were elated.

They welcomed you back on board the submarine with the most embarrassing and raucous round of cheers and chanted “kiss! kiss! kiss!” to rub it in your faces. You did, in fact, share a kiss in front of the crew, something that they never let you live down. You didn’t mind it all that much, though.

that's all for this one!! make sure to check out becca's page, since she's so damn talented it isn't fair - @hirakyun13!

A Christmas tree for the Sunny. A task easier said than done.

The cold that day was bitter and scathing—the second you walked outside, you could see your breath float away in warm plumes. It was mid-afternoon and snowing softly.

Somehow, you and Zoro ended up in this chore together. He huffed and rolled his eyes when he heard that you were going to accompany him—it sounded like the rest of the crew very deliberately opted out of joining. More matchmaking on their behalf.

While your strength (in his mind) left much to be desired, and it sounded like he was going to have to chop down and carry the tree by himself, he wondered if the quiet isolation of the forest you would soon enter together would offer a moment of opportunity.

It had been months at this point. Everyone on the crew had asked him at least once what was going on between you two. He played dumb, but after so many moments of interrogation by his crewmates, he put the pieces together—everyone saw something.

It wasn’t too long after you joined the crew that it became common knowledge that Zoro liked you. After so much time, he started to suspect that his feelings (muddled and painful as they were) were reciprocated. At least, with Nami and Robin’s encouragement, he came to that conclusion.

The excuse of having to spend time with you while hunting for a Christmas tree was a nice one. He didn’t have to go out of his way to be near you this time. And the lingering touches, flashing eyes, and warm smiles of the past few days spurred him on—maybe in the loneliness of the forest he would be able to confess. And if not confess, he’d say something. He just couldn’t keep it in any longer.

Before he headed out, he looked at himself in the mirror and told himself to get a grip. He may have been a strong and fearsome swordsman, with almost unrivaled strength, but he was surprisingly sweet and soft inside, once you got past that hard and sullen exterior—one of his favorite things about you, and the first thing to make him pause and wonder about you, was that you recognized that in him almost immediately.

Before the pair of you started your expedition to find a tree, Luffy enthusiastically gave you a description of the ideal tree he had in mind. “Find a nice BIG one! Ten feet tall with one thousand branches!!!” He enthusiastically waved you and Zoro off the ship as you tried not to slip down the gangplank, which was quickly piling up snow.

It was freezing outside, and the ground would have been icier if not for the thick layer of snow sitting atop it. There was a large forest adjacent to the coast, and you began your journey inwards, with an axe each and a net to wrap the tree in.

Every step from you or the swordsman was met with the soft, crunching sound of snow underneath. When you escaped the sound of the waves on the coast, the silence of the forest was almost oppressive. You could hear the crunching sounds, your own breathing, the occasional twig snapping underfoot, and the muted sound of snow falling in tiny clumps around you.

Something about it felt surreal. The forest was so picturesque and peaceful that even the most winter-averse person would have appreciated the scene before with reverence.

You held back the urge to small talk because you knew it wasn’t Zoro’s favorite (ever the stoic). And while you trudged forward in the deepening snow, leading the way, Zoro observed from behind.

You were bundled up, with a nice, thick coat, gloves, a cute scarf, and a hat. Something about you being so wrapped up and cozy made his heart flip. Any time you turned around to see if he was still following, he saw that your cheeks were pink and flushed—the sight was cute. A word he had never even thought about using before he met you.

About half of a mile in, the trees looked adequate. More than tall enough for the Sunny. Besides, where the hell was Luffy going to put this thing? On the deck, presumably? Or maybe by the fish tank? Did the crew even have ornaments?

You stopped and looked up at a tree that looked promising. It had a thick trunk and voluminous, dark green boughs that were covered in a white layer of snow.

“Zoro,” you called him out of his stupor of thought. “What do you think of this one?”

He caught up and took time to study the tree in question. You, in turn, took time to study his face. Chiseled and pretty, with a lethal side-profile. Nice long eyelashes (not fair), tousled green hair, wrapped up all cute in his scarf and coat almost like a present. Fuck. You could stare at him for hours.

When his eyes snapped to yours, you inadvertently blushed.

“Not tall enough.” He grunted out, shortly. “Captain said ten feet.”

“Zoro, for real? You really think he meant ten whole feet?” You were semi-incredulous. He nodded in reply and forged ahead of you.

Another two miles into the forest presented Zoro trees that satisfied him. “There,” he pointed at one that was impressively massive. “That’s the one. Ten whole feet.”

“Sheesh. What now?”

Zoro raised an eyebrow. “Now we cut it down.”

The axe in your hand felt weird and heavy, and as you stood there, Zoro crouched down to get to work. It was unspoken, but you both knew that Zoro was going to do all the work here. You weren’t sure why you were even there. It would be a piece of cake for this man to get the tree chopped and carried back to the ship by himself. But for some reason the rest of the crew insisted you accompany him.

“Do you want some help?” You offered, crouching near him and looking at the thick trunk. He took a second to shake his head.

“The chopping part isn’t really a two-person job anyway. You can help me carry it.”

So, you waited a moment. Zoro cut the trunk with (unsurprising) swiftness, and it toppled over.

“C’mere.” He motioned to you, and you started to help him wrap the net you brought around the tree, pulling its branches inwards to protect them and make it easier to lug around.

When the net was completed, Zoro paused and looked at you. “You gonna help me lift this thing? Or do you want to sit this part out?”

“I’ll help,” you nodded, and the swordsman cracked a wry smile.

“If you say so, but you don’t have to. Obviously, I can lift it by myself.” The sweetness you were familiar with slipped out and started to take over his face.

Your willingness, or rather, confidence, to help was quickly tarnished. As you bent your knees and started to lift the tree in time with Zoro, you realized that first, it was way too damn heavy, and second, the ground right underneath this ridiculously large tree was icy, because the boughs blocked any extra snow coverage, which for you could only mean one thing…

You barely lifted the tree up before you slipped on the ice underneath. You fell down, so embarrassingly ungraceful, and face-planted right into the tree that you had just been trying to lift. As you went down, arms waving around as you tried to catch yourself, catch your balance, catch something, your scarf fell off and you let out a comical yelling/gasping noise.

Thankfully you didn’t get too hurt. There would be bruises, though. Ouch.

Zoro stifled a laugh without much success. You just looked too cute falling like that, a clumsy moment even though you were genuinely trying your best. He decided to blame it on the ice (and himself) instead of poke fun at you for it.

When you came to a rest after your fall, you just sat there for a moment. You frowned and let out a “Fuck.”

Zoro clapped the snow off his hands and rounded the tree to come to your aid.

He helped you to your feet, and picked up your scarf from where it was resting in the snow. Reflexively, he bent forward and placed it on you carefully, wrapping it around you like it had been before. He straightened out your hat, which was also askew. And when he was done setting you right, he paused and turned bright red.

He hadn’t realized how intimate that had been, especially because his face was maybe a foot away from you now, and you were blushing, silent, and just looking at him. The seconds felt like ages.

Zoro studied your face for a second, noticing how snowflakes piled on your lashes, how rosy your cheeks were, and how your irises reflected some of the bright white that lay all around.

“Thanks, Zoro,” you smiled at him, and his heart did a flip. It flipped again when he realized that he was just standing there staring at you, painfully close to your pretty face. Your eyes flitted from his eyes to his lips and back up. Zoro noticed. It felt like all the oxygen in a 10-ft radius evaporated.

Something stirred inside of him, and he finally realized that Nami and Robin hadn’t been lying to him. In this peaceful forest, the noise of the Sunny and the noise in his head went quiet enough for him to hear the affection in your voice and see the love in your eyes plain as day.

He knew that what he was about to do was the right choice. He saw that Nami and Robin—and everyone else who had told him they saw something between you two—were right.

Zoro leaned in and you went rigid. It looked like he was about to kiss you.

The handsome swordsman was getting dangerously close to your lips. You held your breath as he closed his unscarred eye, and his gloved hand came up to your cheek. In tandem, though neither of you said the words out loud, you thought the same thing—fuck. Are we really going to kiss?

You were.

Zoro’s lips met yours in a brief, gentle (if not clumsy) kiss.

You were unbelievably caught off guard. So, Nami and Robin really weren’t exaggerating all along, you thought as he kissed you gently.

When he pulled away, he immediately apologized. “Fuck, sorry. I should have asked before.”

“Took you long enough.” You watched his face change from an expression of embarrassment to one of surprise. His cheeks reddened and his eyes widened.

“Took me long enough?”

You nodded in reply. Zoro hesitated and then leaned in again, pressing his lips on yours. His kisses were delicate and, to your surprise, loving.

Minutes later and Zoro pulled away again. Wordlessly, he kissed your forehead and went back to lifting the tree up.

Some soft grunts from his accompanied the huge tree being set on his shoulder effortlessly. He held onto its stump.

“Well, now that that’s sorted, let’s get this thing out of here.” He cocked his head and smirked, nonchalant and smooth. “Later, after the tree is all set up and we eat dinner, let’s sneak away somewhere and keep going. Deal?”

You gladly assented, butterflies fluttering in your stomach and your cheeks maintaining the shade of red they had been for the past while.

The walk back to the Sunny was a peaceful one. Every few minutes you’d look at him, and when he caught your eyes, he would smile with such charming, almost uncharacteristic sweetness—the sweetness that you saw all along was full-fledged.

Of course, back at the ship, the change in both of you was far too obvious. You were met with claps on the back and exclamations of “FINALLY!” all around. The tree was adequate to Luffy’s liking and, as promised, you and Zoro continued your rendezvous in some place quiet and secluded, making up for lost time.

thank you for reading!! once again, the beautiful artwork is by @hirakyun13, who draws Zoro so so so well that it makes me giggle and kick my feet!

what did u think of this fic? i love zoro so much and i see him as such a softie when you get through his hard exterior 😭 but im not the biggest fan of this fic idk urghhh

“You only love me so much because I let you hit all the time.”

When he heard your words, Ace bursted out laughing. He feigned a gasp. “Do you have such a low opinion of me, princess?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m jokinggg, Ace. But you sure are rabid recently. Not like I have a problem with it or anything.”

His lips curled into that sweet smile of his as he brought his lips to your cheek. “Well, then. I’ll show you how wrong you are. Let’s see how much you like me not jumping your bones every three seconds. No nut December.”

“Ace,” you laughed. “You’re going to last a day.”

Somehow, though, he managed to last multiple.

---

Ages ago, you booked a holiday trip with Ace. A nice vacation from your lives, a reprieve from the stress and endless list of tasks to do.

The chalet—or rather, cabin—was gorgeous. It felt like it was in the middle of nowhere, in a forest of tall pines covered in heavy snow that weighed their branches down. They would have looked melancholy if it wasn’t for the bright white heaps of snow on the bows to remind you what time of year it was.

Ace’s joke-abstinence no-nut-December lasted until the second day of your extended stay at the beautiful A-frame cabin—so, in total, he lasted a good few days.

He tried his hardest and it was amusing, but really, he could barely keep it together. Boner 24/7. You figured it wouldn’t be too hard to break him, but it was great entertainment to tease him for as long as he could hold out for. Besides, after waiting for a few days you knew that the sex, once it finally happened, would be that much better.

---

On your second day at the cabin—the day that Ace broke his “no nut December”—after a nice long walk in the snow outside (interrupted by a blizzard), you and Ace returned to the cabin and undressed. Time for a shower to warm you to your bones—scalding hot and steamy.

While you showered, Ace lit a fire in the fireplace; he warmed up the blankets on the plushy, king-size bed and then lit a candle.

When you emerged from the shower, hair wet and skin damp, you snuggled up in the blankets, no clothes on (to soak in the warmth that you knew Ace placed there).

“Come warm me up, Ace.” You requested and he happily obliged, like always. ‘Warming you up’ was one of his favorite things, mostly because it just involved touching you. He would take any and every chance he could get. And of course, now that he was at the end of his mini-dry spell, he looked forward to it all the more. Might now be the time to break his multi-day streak?

When he slid in bed with you and pressed his body on yours, his warmth flooded through your body. He got as warm as he could get without being too hot.

It was a double satisfaction for you—getting warm, and then teasing Ace so hard you knew he’d fold like a lawn chair.

He wrapped a hand around your front and pulled you close to him, taking a deep inhale of your freshly washed hair and squeezing you tight to his chest.

You laid there for a while, happy and toasty, almost drifting off to sleep when you realized that you felt something hard pressing onto you from behind. Obviously, it was Ace.

So, you did what any reasonable person would do and snuggled back into him, brushing his hard-on in a way that made his breath hitch. It was easy to play him like a fiddle because he was figuratively on his knees for you every moment of the day. He’d do anything for you and worshipped the ground you walked on.

You pressed back again, harder, overtly deliberate now, and he let out a quiet gasp as he felt your warm skin graze his aching shaft through his underwear.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I can’t take it anymore.” His hand passed down to grip your hip and he rutted his hips, effectively humping you through his underwear. Quiet but deep grunts slipped out of him every couple seconds, and as you felt him roll into you it started to make you feel some sort of way—how could it not?

After Ace rubbed himself on you like that for a while, he started to get more worked up. Unapologetic groans fell out of his pretty lips and his breathing quickened.

A hand creeped downwards, towards the valley where your thighs met. He repositioned you slightly to give himself better access, then slid his fingers inwards to caress your folds and soft spots.

Those rough, thick fingers felt godly when he warmed them up and touched you gently like this. He turned you into a sopping-wet mess within a couple minutes, thighs shaking slightly, and breaths shallow, punctured by the occasional, muted moan.

“Let those sounds out, angel. I wanna hear ‘em.” He whispered in your ear and you could feel his hot puffs of breath on your skin. His fingers plunged in and out, making you squirm as he curved them and spread them inside of you.

Soft moans and sounds of bliss fell from your lips unrestrained at his request. He made his fingers warmer still, and it felt like heaven as he drew circles around your clit then slipped his fingers inside and out again.

After a while, you started to lose focus. You couldn’t tell where his skin stopped and where yours began.

“Ace—I need you,” you managed to choke out.

Promptly flipping you over so you were facing him, Ace pushed your leg up, over his hip, and pulled you into a long, affectionate kiss before he brought his throbbing shaft out of his boxers and started to line himself up with your entrance.

When he sunk you down onto his length, your eyes rolled back in your head, not in jest this time but in pure pleasure.

Immediately, Ace started to thrust his hips upwards in small jerks, fucking you shallowly and slowly.

“Fuck—you’re perfect,” Ace groaned and bucked his hips deeper, sliding deliciously into you and passing over your hot spot.

Every few seconds he greedily pulled you into a kiss, and each time your lips met in increasing desperation.

His grip on your hip tightened. It was almost painful now. As he thrusted into you faster, he started to moan into your mouth, deep groans that went straight to your core and vibrated your lips ever so slightly.

Too many presses of his girth past your g-spot and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ace, I’m gonna cum soon,” you gasped, and he slammed into you particularly hard, pressing on the spot he knew would make you feel the best.

“Do it, baby,” his hips rocked into and wet noises echoed in your ears. “Show me, ah, fuck, s-show me how good I make you feel.”

Ace slammed into your g-spot again and it sent you reeling headfirst into your orgasm. White-hot pleasure jolted through you, radiating from your sticky, pulsing core outwards to your limbs where it stalled in tingling zaps of bliss.

You couldn’t tell, since you were lost in the crushing weight of your climax, but your toes curled the hardest they had before, and you writhed on Ace’s cock so hard that it made him cum.

His body seized up alongside yours and his heartrate threatened to explode out of his chest. Deafening groans—one of the best parts of having sex with him—escaped his lips as every muscle in his body went taught. “Fuuuuhhhhccckkkk.”

When you were done floating through bliss, there was quite the mess to clean up. But, ever the gentleman, Ace told you to just lay there and not move a muscle. He got you cleaned up then went back to spooning you and keeping you warm.

oh my GOD, the piece becca (@hirakyun13 / @becca-oak ) drew has me literally drooling. also she sent this fic idea to me so she's really holding this whole piece on her back rn. please check out her page and drop a follow!!! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

if you liked this fic, check out my masterlist and the masterlist for this short holiday event! 🎄🎄🎄

Whoever decided to put mistletoe up in the ship had a good sense of humor. It was perched in a very opportune, deliberate spot. It couldn’t be more visible.

Who put it there? Marco? Someone else?

People passed under it all day long, cracking jokes about who they were going to kiss, pretending to grab crewmates into hyper-exaggerated, joke-makeout sessions. Guffaws and chokes of laughter echoed across the ship the whole day. It certainly made the ship feel like there was more holiday cheer going on.

When you first spotted the small bundle of green leaves, tied up in a pretty red bow, it must have been no coincidence that Ace was standing nearby, chatting with a handful of crewmates. He leaned on the doorframe, seemingly oblivious to what lied above.

Turning his head to look at you, he winked. It’s like he had a sixth sense as far as you were concerned—he could just tell if you were nearby, if you were looking at him, hell, sometimes you wondered if he could somehow read your thoughts. His radar for you was downright uncanny.

The winking had occurred a handful of times before, always when you were least expecting it. You flushed crimson, face turning bright red in an instant. Ace pretended not to notice the way you instinctively averted your eyes for a split second afterwards and embarrassment. You brushed the sight off. No point in fantasizing about Ace standing under the mistletoe winking at you, right? That’s totally normal. Nothing there to hyper-fixate on. But as much as you tried to let the interaction go, it ran on repeat in your mind all day.

Later that night the crew had a nice feast. It was a special day, Christmas eve, a holiday out at sea that—even though no one really celebrated—acted as an excuse for a banquet, more rowdiness than usual.

Ace had a couple of drinks during the feast. He didn’t go overboard, but he was psyching himself up for what he was going to do later. His eyes stayed trained on you whenever he could get away with it and his mind raced. Was he going to be able to pull this off?

When dinner was over and everyone took their raucous laughter elsewhere, Ace knew that you had the habit of tidying a bit. Recently he had been joining you. He did anything to get some time with you, one on one.

“Want some help, sweetheart?” His eyes were warm, freckles devilishly handsome, hair sitting perfect. That’s the word for him—perfect. You almost couldn’t take it. Especially when he called you nice things like that.

You agreed, of course. You’d (similarly) take any time with him that you could get. As he helped you take stray dishes to the kitchen and wipe down tables (Thatch was taking a well-deserved break), Ace gravitated to you, maybe more than usual.

He worked beside you, so close your arms almost brushed. When the work was done, his heartbeat skyrocketed.

“How does a nightcap sound, princess? Or some hot chocolate?” His gesture was sweet, thoughtful, and polite—very much in character.

“Hot chocolate sounds good.” You smiled back, trying now to get weird or awkward, holding back the overwhelming feeling of being flustered.

Within minutes he had two piping-hot cups of hot chocolate in hand, grinning. He handed you a mug. It was the perfect temperature and tasted delicious (maybe it was so delicious because he made it?).

“I heard some of the crew say it’s snowing outside. Want to see? I’ll keep you warm, no need for a coat.” Ace’s smile was genuine, not suggestive in the slightest. He radiated pure kindness, emphasized by his chivalry. It made your heart melt.

“C’mon.” He gestured towards the hallway—the one that just so happened to have the mistletoe hanging at the end)—and you led the way.

As you advanced closer to the mistletoe, Ace was internally screaming at himself. It was the perfect opportunity. For Ace, time stood still. It was like you were moving in slow motion.

When you realized that you’d both be under the mistletoe at (almost) the same time, you turned red in the face at the implication, wishing that you actually could kiss him. A sweet holiday fantasy. One that you were sure would never happen.

So, you passed under the bundle of green hanging on the doorway and your heart sank. You had indulged in the guilty pleasure of fantasy, one that you knew was no good. No point in getting your hopes up.

Hopefully your face would go back to normal soon, not crimson anymore. You were painfully embarrassed at the thought of Ace realizing that you were blushing out of your mind. Maybe he’d realize that you were flushing because the mistletoe, maybe he’d catch on that you wanted him like that.

Just when you thought the moment had passed, just when you were exhaling and internally steadying yourself, Ace reached forward and grabbed you by the hand gently, pulling you backwards and close to him so your bodies were pressing on one another’s. Up close like this, Ace looked better than you could have imagined.

His eyelashes were ridiculously long, it was unfair. You could see how deep and rich the color of his eyes was, how his freckles winked and danced every time he grinned like that.

“Wha—?” You reflexively blurted out, breathless, but he cut you short with a kiss. His big hand cupped your cheek and he pressed his lips on yours softly.

A thousand miles a minute, your heart threatened to explode. You went completely rigid, gripping the handle of the mug you were holding so hard you almost broke it.

The kiss was long and delicate; he caressed your cheek like you were something precious to him. The warmth from his hand spread to your entire body; it was thawing a chill that you had been holding in your heart for months as you tried to keep your intense feelings for him at bay.

When Ace finally pulled away, you could see blush dust his cheeks. His smile was softer, just as sweet, and his eyes were mesmerizing, riveted on yours. Somehow, he just got hotter up close, more captivating.

“Ace, what’re you—?”

“I couldn’t help myself, gorgeous. I’ve been wanting to do that for ages. C’mere.”

He pulled you into another kiss. Followed by another. He couldn’t get enough of you. His free hand wandered slightly, trailing downwards to your waist as he pulled you closer. A singular thought raced through both of your minds at once—“finally”.

Each kiss was romance movie levels of fantastic. Fireworks. A torrent of emotions finally flooding out, expressed, for the moment, in kisses alone. Who knows how long this would have lasted, or where it would have gone, if it weren’t for the unwelcome (but wholesome) interruption.

“Y’know you guys are really missing out on the sn—OH SHIT!” Marco’s jaw dropped and he shielded his eyes for a moment. “So, the mistletoe finally worked? Fucking hell, we’ve been waiting for you two goofs to get together all day.”

happy holidays~ i'm posting again (with another artwork by @hirakyun13) on the 18th, 20th, 24th, 25th!

the present for the 18th is looking very... curly and blonde...

A pretty blonde chef with a holiday apron and a pan full of cookies stands in front of you and you can’t help but be distracted. He’s just too cute.

You can’t even pay attention to the pan of cookies because you’re lost in those pretty eyes, mesmerized by that pretty smile, pretty hair, swirly eyebrows, soft skin, sweet lips—“My love?” He snaps you out of the stupor you’re lost in. “My love, did you hear me? What color of icing do you think would look best on these?”

The present moment races back to you—you’re been making cookies with Sanji, Christmas cookies, no less. It’s a cute date idea he proposed to you.

You tell him the colors you have in mind for the icing. The baking tray is covered with two kinds of cookies—gingersnaps and sugar cookies in pretty shapes. They smell heavenly, and they’re going to taste even better (Sanji’s own recipe).

“Fantastic choices, beautiful.” Sanji responds and sets the pan on a cooling rack.

After a few more minutes, you’ve rolled out and shaped another tray full. They go in the oven and Sanji sets the kitchen timer—at least, he thinks he does. He’s too distracted by you, though. When his finger goes to press the ‘start’ button, he misses, but doesn’t realize it. So, the timer doesn’t actually start. You don’t notice, though.

“Now that we’ve got fifteen minutes, what should we do?” He smiles and sidles over to you, a whole two feet, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards him.

“You’re looking pretty delicious, gorgeous.” He grins and blushes. He’s about to say something extremely corny. “Even more delicious than the cookies we’re making. I could just eat you up.”

His last few words are broken up by kisses that he peppers on every part of your face. His lips press onto your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your eyes, and your jaw. Eventually they land on your lips.

Through his smile, he kisses you delicately. You’d think he’s afraid of breaking you. You’ve told him countless times that you’re not made of glass, but no matter how many times you’ve told him, he doesn’t seem to listen.

He smells clean and barely musky, with an overtone (obviously) of cigarettes, coffee, and sugar (from the cookies). It’s a smell that only Sanji could have, a distinct and yummy one. It almost makes your mouth water.

His hands wander. They love to do that. From your waist, they inch downwards. For a few moments, for a few kisses, his hands stay perched on your hips. But then they pass lower and he bends with them. He scoops you up and you’ve got the position memorized. Sanji reaches under your thighs and you hop ever-so slightly.

You’ve memorized the routine—he picks you up and you wrap your legs around him.

Walking a couple of paces over to open counter space, Sanji places you there and your hands come to rest over his shoulders.

His kisses get sloppier. Greedier. Needier. His hands do the same. They snake down to your ass and he grabs rough handfuls. After kneading for a second, Sanji’s lips start to wander, too.

He leaves butterfly-style kisses across your neck, sucking softly for a moment before moving lower to the hollow of your throat, then the slope of your collar bone. He leaves a bite, and his hands inch to your chest.

You can tell that the gentle cook has forgotten that there are cookies in the oven that demand his attention.

As Sanji starts getting more worked up, you can also tell he’s getting hard. He’s so easily worked up like this that it’s endearing.

His hair shifts as he kisses you and his soft strands softly pass over the skin on your forehead. You can feel him slowly rutting his hips into you, and you squeeze him closer to you with your legs.

As his hands creep under the hem of your shirt and trail upwards, he freezes.

It smells like smoke. Like something is on fire.

Sanji’s head whips around to look at the oven and, sure enough, the cookies are burning, bad.

“Fuck!” he exclaims and practically jumps. After a second, he pulls himself together, trying not to be too jarring around you, but you know that if he was alone right now he’d be being a whole lot more dramatic.

Sanji pulls his hands off of you and goes to open the oven—a puff of smoke wafts out and he gets a face-full.

“It looks like the cookies are burnt, gorgeous. I guess I didn’t actually start the timer.”

He’s frowning in the cutest way possible, but it turns into a sweet smile after a second.

“How about we throw these ones away, and we let the first batch keep cooling while we go do something else?”

You nod in agreement to his proposition and hop down from the counter.

As Sanji does away with the burned up, blackened crisps that once were holiday cookies, you watch him attentively. Even the way he moves his hands is graceful and intentional, measured and deliberate.

He turns and gives you a smile when he realizes you’re observing him. “Like what you see, angel?”

When you turn bright red, he takes off his apron and puts it over your head.

“That’s more like it. Now let’s go be distracted together.”

thank u so much for reading and happy holidays!! another reminder that the lovely lovely @hirakyun13 did the art for this and please go check out here page!