Chapter Text
You never expected for you and Ace to settle down. Yet, surprisingly, you did—on a lovely little island far from the chaos you once knew. It wasn’t the life you had planned, but it was the life you had found together. And it was a blessing to have a home again, a place that felt like yours.
With the holiday season in full swing, the idea of a festive feast seemed like the perfect way to celebrate this fresh start. There was just one catch: you had to feed everyone. With so many mouths to feed, the preparations were no small task. But you were determined to make it work. You took it upon yourself to organize all of it, spending days in the kitchen, working tirelessly to make sure everything was just right.
Ace wasn’t much of a cook, but he did his best to help wherever he could. He was more of a moral support in the kitchen, always ready with a joke or a smile to lighten the mood, but the pressure of making everything perfect was still heavy on your shoulders.
A few hours before the guests were due to arrive, you decided to gather some herbs from your small greenhouse. The fresh rosemary and thyme would add that final touch to the dishes.
“How are you doing?” Ace asked, noticing the tension in your shoulders.
“Stressed,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not sure the meat is cooking evenly, and it’s driving me crazy. I want everything to be perfect, Ace. I don’t want to disappoint anyone, especially not you.” You sighed. “I just need some herbs. Go into the kitchen and keep an eye on it, okay?”
“I got it,” Ace reassured you, stepping closer and kissing your forehead gently. “You don’t need to worry so much,” he teased, offering a playful smile. “It’s going to be fine.”
You left to collect the herbs, savoring a brief moment of quiet. But as you came back with your herbs in hand, something felt wrong. A burnt smell reached your nose, and your heart sank. Panic set in as you rushed to the kitchen.
Before you could burst into the kitchen, Ace stopped you at the door, looking sheepish and nervous.
“Ace? What the hell is going on?” You couldn’t hold back the frustration in your voice.
“Uh… don’t freak out,” he began nervously, his voice faltering.
“Ace…” Your tone was sharp now. “What happened?”
“Uh… I think I burned the food.”
“You think?”
“Okay, let me rephrase that. I burned the food.”
A long silence hung between you as you just stared at him.
“I know you were worried about it not cooking evenly and being on time,” Ace continued, his words tumbling out quickly. “So I thought I could use my powers to help… but I kind of overdid it. I just wanted to make it easier on you.” His face was full of remorse. “I’m so, so sorry. I just wanted to help.”
You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay calm. “Just show me the damage.”
Ace led you into the kitchen, his heart pounding. The main dish was charred but not entirely ruined. It was clear that he had tried to rush things, and while the damage was significant, it wasn’t a total loss. You stared at the burnt meat for a moment, letting the reality sink in, then sighed deeply.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, rubbing your temples in frustration.
“I swear, I didn’t mean to—”
“I know,” you interrupted, holding up a hand. “I know.” You took another long breath to steady yourself.
Ace blinked, still trying to process your calm reaction. “You’re not mad?”
“A little, yeah. But I know you didn’t mean to mess it up. And you’re obviously sorry.”
“You must be an angel,” he said with a nervous laugh.
“Oh, we both know that’s not true,” you snorted, shaking your head.
“I swear, I’ll never use my powers to cook again,” Ace promised, looking at you with wide, sincere eyes.
You chuckled softly, rolling your eyes as you turned to look at him with a fond smile, gently patting his head. His sheepish expression melted your frustration, and once again you were reminded that it is impossible for you to be mad at him.
But then your gaze shifted back to the burnt meat, and you sighed dramatically once again. “Okay… some of it can still be salvaged. We can make a sauce to cover up how dry it is, and we’ve got plenty of other dishes. It’s not the end of the world.” You glanced at him with a playful smirk. “Just, you know, no powers this time.”
Relieved, Ace nodded enthusiastically. “Okay. Just tell me how I can help. No powers this time, I swear.”
You kissed his cheek, brushing away his lingering worry. “Good. Now stop fretting.” You leaned away as you started to prepare ingredients for an impromptu sauce. “But just so you know, you’re explaining to Luffy why there’s less meat.”
“That’s… way worse than you yelling at me,” he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.
Together, you both managed to salvage what you could, whipping up a quick sauce to mask the dryness and rearranging the menu to make up for the lost dish. When your friends arrived, the spread wasn’t quite what you’d envisioned, but it didn’t matter. The house was full of laughter, warmth, and the joy of being together again. The feast wasn’t perfect, but it was yours.
Later that night, as the celebration wound down, you leaned into Ace’s side, his arm snugly wrapped around your shoulders. The Christmas lights twinkled softly in the corners of the room, and the gentle crackle of the fire added a cozy ambiance to the atmosphere.
“Sorry again about the meat,” Ace murmured, his voice soft as he kissed the top of your head.
You smiled, resting your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “It doesn’t matter,” you said, contentment settling in. “We’ve got a home, we’ve got friends, and we’ve got each other. That’s what matters.”
As the snowflakes drifted gently outside, you both knew that, while the feast hadn’t been perfect, this holiday would always be special—because you shared it together.
+ something extra (Ace's POV while cooking burning the meat)
Ace stood at the door of the kitchen, looking at the roast with a frown. The meat was cooking, sure, but it wasn’t cooking fast enough. He knew how much it meant to you—how much this meal meant. You’d been working yourself to the bone, slaving over the stove for days to get everything perfect. And you were stressing out, saying things weren’t going as planned.
He wanted to help. He could do this. Maybe he didn’t know much about cooking, but he knew he could make the meat cook faster. After all, his powers were perfect for things like this, right? He had fire at his command. Heat was his specialty. What could go wrong?
With a deep breath, he stepped toward the roast, his mind already set. He held his hand out, feeling the familiar heat rise in his body. Flames flickered at his fingertips, but he kept it controlled—just enough to give the meat that perfect crisp without burning it. The idea was simple: get the meat to cook evenly, make it golden brown and juicy on the inside. No need to worry about it not being done on time. No big deal, right? Just a little fire, a little flair. You’d be so impressed.
As the fire danced around his hand, he concentrated. Maybe a little more heat would do the trick. Just a little more. His heart raced with excitement as he adjusted the flame, eager to show you he could handle this, that he could make this meal come together the way you envisioned. This was going to be perfect. No more worrying about undercooked meat. Ace would be the hero of the feast.
But then—disaster struck.
The second he cranked up the heat, the flames surged higher than he expected. A small blaze turned into a full-blown inferno. It sizzled, crackled, and—Ace swore it—screamed for mercy as the smell of something burning filled the air.
“Oh no,” Ace muttered to himself, his face going pale.
What have I done?
He stared at the charred meat, his palms starting to sweat. His breath quickened, panic flooding his system. This wasn’t what he’d planned. He didn’t want to mess this up, not now, not when you were counting on him. His heart raced, his breath quickened—he was panicking. He hadn’t meant to do this. He was trying to help! Why did fire have to be so… uncontrollable?
What am I supposed to do now?
He couldn’t undo it. The damage was done. He could only hope you wouldn’t be too upset. But deep down, he knew he’d messed up in a big way. And he wasn’t sure if anything he said could fix it.
All he could do now was wait and pray for a miracle. Or, at the very least, pray that you wouldn’t unleash your fire on him.