one piece boys falling in love at first sight
☆ characters: ace, rayleigh, marco
☆ up next: one piece characters with a jealous gf
☆ a/n: my last post generated a lot of new followers and requests! i'm so happy and am excited to start working on all the requests. i also will be posting a master list soon so thank u for being patient with me on that front haha. enjoy! <3
ace
1k words
“Welcome aboard!!”
Cheers erupted from the crew, as they all swarmed the deck.
Joining the Whitebeard Pirates was always celebrated with an enormous party.
The sun had started to set but it still beat down relentlessly on the ship and Ace craned his neck to try and get a better view.
You were all the crew had been talking about for weeks.
Some thief who had managed to steal from the Whitebeard Pirates and get away with it.
He remembers how Whitebeard laughed when Izo and Thatch came moping back from inventory, nearly pissing themselves when they were forced to admit they’d been got by an amateur.
Whitebeard had ordered that you be tracked down immediately because anyone who stole from him with that much skill and audacity deserved a spot on his crew.
After a few weeks of searching, Izo came back with you.
From what he’d heard you weren’t easy to convince.
There was alcohol being passed around and the spray of champagne bottles being opened left and right misted his neck.
He pushed through everyone and began making his way toward the front.
He eventually bumped into Marco who’d secured a front-row seat, downing beer as your fellow pirates all came to get a look at you.
“What’s the big fuss? Can’t get any damn sleep around here,” he groaned.
Marco laughed, “Jealous that you’re not the shiny new toy anymore?”
“Barely.”
Both men had given up on trying to get a look at you and decided they’d wait for everything to die down.
“Want a beer?”
Ace nodded and readily accepted the cool can, chugging it within seconds.
“It’s hot as hell out here.”
Marco took another sip of his drink, “If you feel hot how do you think I feel.”
“Well you’re kind of fire too, you know, like- the whole phoenix thing is-”
“Yeah, yeah, but it’s different though.”
“I mean, you could argue that the blue fire is hotter than the red part.”
“Yeah, dumbass, but the point of my devil fruit isn’t fire.”
“Okay well, they’re close enough.”
The heat got the better of the both of them and they gave up their argument, both fairly moody at the heat and the noise.
“When’s the food part starting.”
“Soon probably, apparently Thatch has the hots for the kid.”
Ace choked a bit on his drink.
“What do you mean? Like he thinks he’s hot?”
“She.”
This caught Ace even more off-guard.
“She!?”
Now he really wanted to get a look at you.
After another few minutes, the crowd relented, and people started making their way back to the rest of the ship.
As the group of cheering pirates around you thinned, you felt relief flooding your senses.
You took a deep breath and walked on board the Moby Dick.
It was massive. Now that you could actually see it, you realized just how intimidating of a ship this really was. Of course, you’d had a general idea since you did rob it blind, but still. It was different when you were a welcome guest.
Ace took his chance now, and as the last of your welcoming party dissipated he made his way over to you.
As if on cue, you turned to look at him.
The sun was positioned perfectly behind your head and framed you in a sort of angelic light, it poured up and over your frame from behind you, casting golden hues through your h/c hair.
He stopped in his tracks, one foot still caught mid-step, trailing behind the other.
You were… pretty.
The slight breeze that had been brought with sunset, swept through your hair, leaving your face completely out in the open.
Your lips were slightly parted, had you been saying something?
He didn’t know, he was too enraptured with everything else.
You stood tall, it was clear you had pride to spare.
Your tan skin glimmered with the same regal hue as your hair, and never in his life had Ace felt that something- someone had commanded his attention so thoroughly with just their presence.
You walked toward him, Oh my god she’s walking toward me.
He was proud and he had abundant confidence in his worth but if he’d ever doubted that, it was now that he did.
You extended a hand towards Ace, and as if moving through honey your movement was gentle and smooth, but certain.
“Hi! I’m Y/n, I think I’ve seen your wanted posters before. You-”
Whatever else you said wasn’t registered by the freckled boy in front of you.
His cheeks were red and his eyes set.
He was breathing deeply, hanging onto everything you did, drinking in the magnificent sight of you.
He instinctively reached his hand up toward his head to take off his hat and hold it against his chest.
Your voice was silky and hung in the air like cigarette smoke.
The way you looked at him, your eyes intensely focused and direct, had his knees feeling shaky.
Any ounce of ego left in his body from the first sight of you, drained out of him as you spoke.
His brain was flushed with sudden anxieties.
Had he come across as a creep? What if you took to the other guys? He was young and maybe you wanted something else? Maybe you didn’t even want a guy at all and your ambitions involving piracy had nothing to do with men!
You looked at him with a puzzled look, your nose wrinkled slightly.
“Are you okay?”
Fuck, she’s so cute.
If he had been less out of it, he would have heard Marco’s cackling in the background.
“Real smooth, Ace!” Thatch yelled from the balcony outside the kitchen.
You laughed, She laughed!
Ace blinked back the muddled thoughts and premature anxieties that had started fuzzing his thoughts.
You were giggling to yourself and seemed nearly ready to try and introduce yourself to the next person.
Ace had a million things he wanted to say to you, but he had time. You both had all the time in the world.
So he instead opted to tip his hat and flash you a smile.
“Hi.”
rayleigh
1k words
A quick stop, Roger had promised.
No more than two days, he’d said.
Everyone knew he was lying, and that they’d be landbound for at least a week, but no one was going to complain.
Almost no one.
“Roger, we should get going,” Rayleigh urged, but the Captain was three beers and ฿3,000 into a game of poker. They wouldn’t be leaving until morning.
Roger laughed loudly, earning stares from the bar's patrons.
“What’re you in such a rush for?! There’re women and booze all over the island, go find some to your liking and quit complainin’!” He laughed again and Rayleigh gave up and decided he’d just head back to the ship for now. He’d send someone to pick up the captain in the morning.
He didn’t mind the island itself. It was a spring island, and the clime sat at a gentle temperature, with easy-going winds. Tall grass covered the majority of the island and flowers were in bloom all over.
Yellow daffodils and pink tulips littered the island, dotting the hills and fields with spots of color.
He made his way slowly back toward the ship, taking more time than usual to enjoy the scenery. If he was going to be stuck here he may as well enjoy it.
The sun was just about the set, and vibrant hues of orange colored the sky and with his hands in his pockets, he wandered through the hills back to sea.
The island had no real port, there was just a bay where ships parked. There weren’t any walkways or built-in passages from which to disembark from the ship, you simply had to drop the anchor and paddle or swim to the rocky shore. The grass grew right up to the edge of the ocean, and he sat down in it, deciding he’d wait until it got dark.
A soft rustling to his left caught his attention.
Tucked in the grass, was a girl sleeping, a book in her hands.
She was wearing a white dress, and it moved together with the grass, back and forth, pushed by the wind.
A cool breeze ran through your body and with a slight shiver, you slowly blinked your eyes open, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, rolling onto your stomach.
You flipped through the pages of your book, going back and forth a few times before deciding to close it altogether.
You sat up, stretching your arms out over your head, letting your hair fall over your shoulders.
Rayleigh was, for lack of a better term, entranced.
He was completely hypnotized by the sight of you.
He felt as though you’d materialized before him, a beautiful fairy or something similar.
He’d heard stories of sailors coming across women whose beauty stopped them in their tracks. Women that they thought about every night after those initial encounters, held a complete hold on their minds.
He thought that now he felt something similar.
He felt awkward just sitting and watching you, and thought he might say something.
A tug in his chest urged him to stand up and try and present himself, but he felt an irritating nervousness spread throughout his body.
C’mon, Rayleigh.
He was usually so… good at this.
If he saw a pretty girl at a bar or a port or an island he would just talk to her.
Everything after that came naturally.
He was a Roger pirate for god’s sake, people around the globe feared him and revered him, and yet… and yet with every breath, he took to try and start a sentence he came up blank.
The thirty seconds he’d spent trying to speak to you felt like an hour and he thought his heart might stop when you’d turned around to look at him.
“Oh! Hello!”
He drew in a breath.
The colored sunset light fell on your face and illuminated your features in soft hues.
Your eyes widened slightly at the man standing before you and you gave him an awkward smile.
“Have you been standing there a long time?”
An accusatory look settled on your face, and your lips settled into a frustrated pout.
“I, um, yes,” he admitted, a blush creeping onto his face, “I wasn’t- I mean- I had just sat here to enjoy the, um-”
“Yeah, yeah, you creep, I get it.”
You laughed as you said this, and he relaxed a little.
“You’re not from around here are you?” you asked.
“What gave it away?”
“You seem surprised that someone was sleeping outside. It’s normal here, I swear I’m not some weirdo or anything. Our grass is known for being soft.”
He sat back down, slightly closer to you this time.
“What’s that?”
You sat closer to him, pointing to the log pose on his wrist.
“It’s a compass. Pirates use it on the Grand Line, it works by using the magnetism from each island to route the way toward the next one.”
“You’re a pirate! You don’t look like one! Or act like one.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
You giggled, and he felt completely swept up by your presence. How quickly you started trusting him, the curiosity in your voice that only grew with each question he answered.
You continued asking him questions, what being a pirate was like, why he was a pirate, and who else did he know that was a pirate. Had he killed anybody?
The more you talked, the more he started feeling like himself. His wittiness and sarcasm started slowly coming back to him, he was able to put aside his awe for your beauty in exchange for his usual flirtiness.
The dynamic between you seemed to shift back and forth between who felt bold and who felt shy.
“Do you drink?”
“Do I look like I drink?”
Rayleigh laughed, and you joined him.
Night had set hours ago, yet you kept talking as though you had all the time in the world.
You inched even closer to him, he sat with his legs crossed, and you sat on your knees, feet tucked underneath you.
You were facing each other and you leaned forward, bringing your lips closer to his.
“When do you leave?”
He tucked some stray pieces of hair behind your ear, trailing a hand down your face.
You rested your head against his palm, looking up at him.
“Soon.”
“That’s too bad. I like you a lot. You’re more than a pretty face.”
Rayleigh smiled at that, “I haven’t heard that one before!”
In a burst of energy and eagerness you pressed your lips to his, and just as quickly retracted.
He smiled again, bigger this time, and brought his arms around your waist, holding you in place.
You pressed another kiss to his lips, still too quickly for him to reciprocate.
He laughed and you felt proud at the blush you saw coloring his cheeks.
“Tell me, pirate, are you busy tonight?”
“Not at all, pretty.”
“Would you like to be?”
“Very much.
marco
1.2k words
“Why can’t you send Ace to do it?”
“‘Cause I sent ‘im to go get fish from the market,” Thatch explained, “And before you ask, I can’t go either ‘cause I’ll be here. Cooking.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll be back soon.”
Marco threw on a sweater and made his way into the town they were staying in. Thatch was all worked up and excited since they’re known for their produce and food quality.
Naturally, everyone had been sent out to get different ingredients for him.
Marco looked down at the short list he was given, ‘Apples’.
‘Very concise,’ he thought to himself.
It was midday and the sun was shining. It was fairly warm on the island, and it was covered in trees.
There were several signs that pointed him towards the location of the apple farm your family owned.
He found it with ease and walked around for a bit when he didn’t see anyone out front.
Every tree was teaming with ripe apples of all kinds. Overripe ones littered the floor and there were some chickens walking around.
He had been walking for no more than five minutes before he saw you.
You were reaching up to try and grab the apples that were up on the higher branches of the tree.
You strained your arms upward, using the trunk of the tree as support, your long legs balancing on the tips of your toes.
Your short dress slid up against your thighs, revealing a soft tan line.
A few beads of sweat formed on your forehead and after your third reach with no success, you gave up.
He could feel the pace of his heartbeat start to pick up slightly.
You looked so calm and at ease. The line of your body as you stretched upward was tantalizing and he couldn’t look away.
He didn’t want to scare you so he gently cleared his throat.
You turned around in a panic, knocking over a few of the apples in the full baskets that were on the floor next to you.
“Oh! Welcome! Sorry! Sorry- I’m the only one in today and I was trying to get a few more baskets full,” you explained to him.
“No worries,” Marco said. His voice was deep and he sounded so laid back.
You were still a bit too far to converse at a normal volume so you walked to him, caught off-guard by how handsome he was.
He wasn’t wearing anything surprising, nor was he doing anything that was out of the ordinary but you could tell that he wasn’t from around here.
His hands were calloused and he had a few visible scars spread across the visible parts of his skin.
“What can I get for you today,” you smiled at him.
“I was sent out for apples! I suppose I’ll take two baskets pleas-”
Marco’s voice trailed off and he cut off his own sentence as he looked and actually made eye contact with you.
Oh, god.
He knew you’d probably be hot based on what he’d seen earlier but you were… unspeakably beautiful.
Your cheeks were full and bright.
Your lips were a lively pink and your eyes caught the shifting glimmers of sunlight in them.
Your hair was pulled back into two messy braids and your loose strands of hair swept back and forth over your face.
You were unbelievably flattered.
Naive as you were to love and its complications, you knew what a tempted man looked like.
An unfamiliar sensation tugged at your chest. You felt like the tendons and muscles around your heart were opening and contracting wildly.
Your breath hitched in your throat and settled itself right on your vocal cords, you couldn’t say anything.
You both held a hilariously awkward form of eye contact for several moments.
Marco swallowed and cleared his mind, regaining his composure to the best of his ability.
“Two of these,” he said again, blinking his gaze down toward the floor as he gestured down toward the basket.
You took a deep breath and nodded, grabbing another basket for him.
They were heavier than they looked and after watching your two failed tries at lifting the baskets, Marco offered some help. “Oh, y-yes, please! Thanks,” you said, stepping back as he walked over and picked up the baskets with ease.
“How much do I owe ya?”
“Um.. j-just ฿15.”
“Fifteen?! That’s it?”
“We have, um, a discount going on right now... For handsome travelers.”
Why would I say that? Oh my god, why would I say that!? your cheeks started to rapidly heat up and you shuffled your feet nervously.
Your heart started beating faster against your chest when Marco responded, “How sweet. Take this as a tip then.”
He had a devilishly handsome smile on his face, and you looked at the money he was handing you. “Oh fifty is way too much- I can’t accept that, that’s more than the two baskets would normally be anyway.”
“Well, this is what I always tip beautiful girls.”
You laughed, trying to ignore the rising temperature of your face.
How embarrassing to be this easily flustered.
He smiled at you, clearly enjoying himself.
“C’mon, I insist,” he closed your hand around the money and gently guided your hand back toward your chest.
You pouted, feeling guilty that he gave you so much money.
“You’re sure?”
“Sweetheart, I’m a pirate,” he said, “There’s a lot more where this came from.”
His voice was full of confidence but he was so relaxed.
It made your stomach twist.
The way he carried himself- you could tell he was dangerous, but he was so laid back.
“A pirate?”
He nodded.
You put the money away, and played with the ends of your braids, unsure of what to say to him.
He bent down, one arm on each side of you.
Your breath caught in your throat and you stood frozen still.
He picked up the baskets, one in each hand, from your sides.
“As much as I’d love to spend the rest of my day here, I’m afraid I have to report back soon.”
You nodded, sheepishly looking down at the floor.
He smiled at you again, winking this time.
He turned and started walking back toward the entrance.
You knew you’d probably never see him again and a kind of unknown anxiety made its way to your chest.
“Wait!” you called out, running after him.
He turned around.
“Will... Will I see you again?”
This time a less nonchalant smile spread across the Commander’s face.
“Oh, absolutely,” he teased, “I’ve got wanted posters in every town from here to North Blue.”
You pouted again.
So cute! Marco thought to himself.
“You know what I mean.”
“I can work something out.”
“What’s your name?” you asked.
“Marco,” he answered, “What’s yours?”
“Y/n.”
“Pretty name for a pretty face.”
You smiled.
He couldn’t help but stare.
It suddenly dawned on Marco the Phoenix, First Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, that he was positively, undoubtedly fucked.
You stood in front of him, waiting for him to say something else.
“You’ll see me again,” he said, this time with unwavering certainty,
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6. Don’t make plans for the next morning.”
