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xamaxenta · 3 months

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crashes in thru the window A Vision. Ive Seen A Vision. sabos hands are covered in scars from using his dragon claw thingy and professional martial artists like brickbreakers and shit literally have their bones thicken over time from healing microfractures to provide more strength and power BUT it can come at the cost of joint pain and/or arthritis especially with age. what im saying is scarred calloused weapons of mass destruction sabo hands and rough warm physicians tools, lifetime of rope and rigging and worn ships marco the phoenix hands, gently easing the very literal ache in sabos bones with his two hands cupped around sabos (and sabo is slighter, his hands at first glance look narrow and delicate, but by the time youre close enough to see the scars on his pasty ass skin its too late for you, and marcos workmans hands completely eclipse his) full of warm healing flames . sabo and marco bite and snark and tease and fuck nasty so much that some ppl cannot tell if they like or hate each other but at the end of the day there is no one sabo trusts more to look over his strongest most intimate weapons (LITERALLY attached to/part of his body) like honing the fine edge of a blade that cuts anyone who touches it . but marco bleeds fire. they bicker and argue and tease but here it is silent. the only sounds are the warm rustle of callouses dragging against each other abd the soft rumble of crackling phoenix fire, louder than a candle but quieter than a lantern, and when it pops and snaps it sounds more like leaves and sea waves carried by the breeze and sabo finally, finally can relax for just a moment

This makes me yearn so much i am so full of yearning rn

Absolutely beautiful commentary of their relationship

Sabo’s a man of many facets and Marco wholly understands this and does what he can to enable it, if anything to protect him

If Sabo needs to be seen as someone dangerous vicious tongued, sharper wit, someone so beyond the league of normal men then Marco, the phoenix, who has had plenty of experience would do anything to enable this image

Because when theyre alone he gets to see Sabo as he is because Sabo trusts him implicitly and that means so much more than any words they could share or any snarky performance for the public could

Its rly soft aaaaaah wnishdoshd

Also the softest imagery of Sabo allowing Marco to look over his hands, press out the hurt, the ache, soothe the angry sharpness in his wrists that flares up whenever he writes, Sabo going boneless into his embrace hes shockingly vulnerable like this, without the squaring of his shoulders and the confident commanding pitch of his voice its easy to see the soft nobility in his form something hes striven to move beyond

#marcosabo #marsab #MAS #and Ace is like why bother with this performance at all???#sabo; there’s a heirarchy i have to establish for my public image #ace: but how come u dont do that w me #sabo: darling… no one expects anything other than adoration when it comes to you #ace: :0 #anyway Marco’s happy to bicker its fun #and later when hes sitting legs tangled with sabos in peace hes like that went well #sabo leans in to snuggle against him like yeah #thanks #its a little complicated just a bit haha

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nari-writes · 10 months

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Sabo takes one look at Marco's stupid, dopey smile, how he looks like his chest is going to burst with pleasure at Sabo agreeing to go on a date with him, and finds he can't do it.

He's a failure, he knows, but that doesn't stop him from tilting the vial into his own drink, his stomach churning. Marco gives him the same puppy-like, adoring look he gives Ace, and Sabo almost bites through his tongue because Marco's made this ten times worse. Because Marco's going to be so nice about Sabo spilling secrets everywhere, because he's going to stroke Sabo's hair like he did six missions ago, when he'd had to talk Sabo through a panic attack, because Sabo's going to say I fucking hate you and all Marco's going to say is, "Oh," and then he's going to stay, because he's terrible like that.

He's terrible, and better than Sabo could ever be, and Sabo fucking hates him for it.

The wine costs Marco money that Sabo doesn't even want to think about, and he thinks he'd feel a touch guilty for knocking it back like it's a shot if it weren't for the fact that they aren't friends. This is a reconnaissance mission, he thinks hysterically, and can't help but wonder what Marco's going to pick his brain for when Sabo's drugged up and out of it. It isn't like Sabo will remember, after all, and he'll tell Marco that fact when he's under the influence of this stupid serum.

"I'm so stupid," he says to Marco, almost laughing, and Marco blinks at him. Sabo almost swears, realising he's cut Marco off in the middle of some story, and he's about to apologise when Marco goes,

"Why would you say that?"

"I drugged myself."

"What?"

"Only way I could get through a conversation with you!" Sabo yells, and then almost howls with laughter because fuck he's funny. This is the only way he'll ever be able to get through a conversation with Marco. The only way he'll say what he wants to say without trying to make sure that Marco doesn't realise Sabo's manipulating him, the only way he'll manage a conversation with Marco when he hates the man but hasn't stopped biting his tongue for twelve years, the only way he'll even get through dinner without throwing up, and it's all because he couldn't bring himself to tip truth serum into Marco's glass. He drops his head into his hands and groans again, "I'm so stupid."

When he peeks through the gaps in his fingers, Marco looks like he's got whiplash, his usually inscrutable expression twisted with confusion and concern. Even though there's still food to come, Marco signals a waiter and gets their bill delivered, apologising for being unable to stay but still providing the restaurant with more than enough to cover their meal.

“You don’t have to do that,” Sabo mumbles when the waiter walks away, and Marco folds the napkin in his lap into a diamond and leaves in where his plate used to be.

“It’s polite,” he says, but there’s a stiff twist to his lip and his hands are jerky when he pulls on his coat. He hesitates for a second, then closes his eyes and gives a tiny sigh, holding his hand out for Sabo to take.

“You’re so weird,” Sabo says, but takes his hand anyway, because he likes how Marco’s hands feel, all calloused and warm and Marco holds on tight, always.

Always, Sabo thinks, and this time he tightens his own grip, because he doesn’t want to be the excuse Marco uses to let go.

Marco’s silent as they leave the restaurant, his jacket making little swishing noises across the back of his thighs, and Sabo breathes in the night air, feeling his skin prickle. It’s weird, but the truth serum feels kind of like an oversensory attack. Not a bad one, just-

Just weird.

(Maybe that has something to do what the fact that he’s the one who’s twined his and Marco’s hands together, but he doesn’t think that’s it. Oversensory attacks leave him detesting touch, not craving it, and he wants Marco’s hands on every inch of him.)

A car drives past, an echo of wheels fading in and out as Sabo watches the road, and then Marco’s grip tightens, a little desperate, a little shaky.

“What did you do to yourself?” he asks, the words on a little sigh that’s so heavy Sabo isn’t surprised to feel it resting on his shoulders.

“It was supposed to be you,” he defends, because obviously that’s the most important thing to defend, and then, because that wasn’t the answer to the question he says, “truth serum.”

“Why?” Marco says, and the little o his mouth forms is aghast. Then, he shakes his head, quick and unhappy. “Don’t answer that.”

“Too late!” Sabo chirps, because he likes nothing more than to be contrary, and annoying Marco is fun because Marco gets a tiny pinched look between his eyes and groans like someone’s told him he won’t get to shower for a week. “So I think you’ve got intel on the M16 spy, and I figured, hey, you wanted to sleep with me and the prelude to that is always dinner dates. Dinner dates have alcohol, alcohol hides truth serum, bam, truth serum administered and information collected.”

“You thought I was a spy?” Marco says, and there’s the kicked-puppy look again, the one that makes Sabo frown at him because grown men shouldn’t look like that and Marco shouldn’t be acting all injured.

“You are a spy,” he points out, voice dipping into a growl. “Why is it so surprising that I thought you were a liar?”

“We’re partners.”

“But I hate you,” Sabo says simply, because it really is that simple, but Marco looks like someone’s kicked him in the guts and when he stops Sabo’s arm gets jolted in the socket. Stupid hand holding, he grumbles to himself as he takes the steps back to Marco’s side.

“What sort of truth serum is this?” he says softly, and Sabo looks up at him impassively, blinking away bits of orange streetlight.

“Normal one?” he offers, because he’s not really sure what answer Marco’s looking for, and Marco makes a useless noise.

“You hate me?”

“Obviously.”

Marco closes his eyes and gives a tiny laugh, pressing his free hand against his eyes, and Sabo can’t help but frown at him. “You annoy me,” Sabo says, frustrated with how upset Marco’s acting. Like this is something he doesn’t know. “You fight well but don’t take credit for your achievements, you don’t hesitate to question the orders I want to question, you do- you say all these things to me, these- You act so nice all the time, like I don’t know you fucking pity me!”

“I don’t pity you,” he says, his eyes wide, and Sabo scoffs.

“Yes, I believe the man who hasn’t taken a truth serum.”

“Do you want me to?” Marco demands, and Sabo glares at him.

“I don’t want to hear what will come out of your mouth!”

“Why?” Marco asks, voice all soft, and now it is Sabo’s turn to bury his face in his hands.

“I don’t want to,” he says again, but that’s not an answer, not an explanation, he just- he just can’t give one. He doesn’t have one. “You could be a liar,” he mumbles, pressing the heel of his palm into his eyes. “Or you could be telling the truth. And I- I don’t want to know.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t!”

“But-”

Sabo whirls on Marco, finally letting go of his hand, and heaves in a breath to stop how fast his heart is pounding. “I don’t know why, okay? I don’t know why I don’t want to know. Maybe because if I don’t know then I can keep pretending that I don’t know for sure that you’re a good person. Maybe because then I don’t have to admit that you actually believe those things about me. Maybe because then I have to accept the fact that I don’t actually fucking hate you!”

The night no longer feels so cool – Sabo’s blood is boiling and he can feel his cheeks burning, rage and terror an unsteady cocktail that has him screwing his eyes closed to stop any tears from escaping him. “So just let me hate you, okay? I don’t want to- I’m- I can’t believe you saying those things about me, or my skills, and I don’t- I don’t want to know that you actually think that. That you think I’m a good person.”

“Sabo-” Marco says, and reaches out in such an easily telegraphed move that Sabo could avoid it with almost no effort, but he-

Marco's hands cup his cheek, thumbs along his cheekbone, and Sabo closes his eyes again, pressing into Marco’s touch.

“I’m not a good person, okay? You can’t- I torture people for a living. I blow up stuff because then no-one can hunt me down and hurt my family, I make sure no-one’s left alive because then I don’t have to deal with revenge plots, I hurt people. That’s what I do for a living, Marco! I hurt people!”

“What, and you think I don’t?” Marco says, his voice hiding the lilt of a joke, and Sabo’s breath hitches, half a laugh wrenched from his chest.

“You’re better than me. And you never do anything about it. What am I supposed to think about you?”

“You don’t- have to think anything.”

“I think you’ve misunderstood a core part of me,” Sabo says, and he means to say it with a snort, or maybe a sneer, but instead he just sounds sad. Sad because maybe it’s true, that Marco will never understand him, with all the lies Sabo tells? Or just sad because he can’t stop thinking, can’t get his brain to shut up, can’t stop planning contingencies for how he’ll fuck up before he’s even taken a chance.

He leans away from Marco’s hand, a chill sinking into his cheek quickly, but it’s easier than having to look at Marco’s face. “Hold my hand,” he orders, fingertips stretched backward and refusing to wait. “I’ll forget about it tomorrow, anyway.”

#HUH I forgot I never posted this #I love this au......sabo's an IDIOT #marsab #nari is writing #opfanfic #not to me / not if it's you #they're spies!!!!! they've been asked to work together to find an M16 spy #Marco works for M16 and Sabo technically works for. someone else. idk. CIA. for funsies. And thinks Marco is the traitor #except not really ;3c

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wounderful-chaos · 2 years

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She is delightfully chaotic; a beautiful mess. Loving her is a splendid adventure.

Steve Marsabeli

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trickstermelon · 1 year

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Drakoby or marsab :3

I think you did it backwards babe but lemme think of some problematic tropes that fit — age gap obviously for both

Marsab: SO much malewife manipulate gaslight girlboss going on here, assured mutual destruction, replacement therapy, lack of physical limits

Drakoby: For some reason I want to say born sexy yesterday even tho??? That doesn’t fit? Maybe in a sci fi AU. Lots of I can fix him/a bit of rose colored glasses, good amount of bonding by secrets 🤔 codependency?

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tamrian · 4 years

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it's wip wednesday so pls accept this horny marsab monster au

“If you’re shit at fucking, I might just stay silent for the whole time,” Sabo says between two kiss.

His boss narrows his eyes, mirth dancing in his eyes. “You shouldn’t talk to me like that.”

“Why? Are you going to spank me for talking back?” Sabo grins, enjoying the possessive hands on his neck and waist.

#marsab #marcosabo #my writing #guys it's gets 💦💦💦🥵🥵🥵🥵#i literally only have like 200-300 words if i don't make it mas for now

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authenticaussie · 5 years

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1 (sabo murders parents) & 7 (space cowboy prince)?

1. title??? fuck it: that one where sabo murders his parents

this one is honestly one of my favourite aus…I say that abt a lot of aus tho so like. bucket of salt tbh it’s slow and sad and it’s a lot of balancing trust and lying and accidental truth-obstruction and. Woof. Hurts real good. Sabo murdering his parents is actually the catalyst for the whole plot and happens in like, the very first paragraph aha. It’s a….small country town AU sorta thing, where Ace is a deputy and Sabo is the son of the resident crime lords who are trying to Fuck Everything Up, and Marco technically becomes his accomplice as Sabo sets about taking over his parents’ criminal empire?

Oh and also Sabo needs an alibi for the murder of his parents so Marco claims that they were hanging out together on a date. So there is like…SO MUCH SAD SHIT?? And then also the BACKGROUND PLOT OF “SABO NOW HAS A FAKE BOYFRIEND”.

Here’s part of the plan for my favourite scene:

[readmore]

Sabo and Ace have a piano…’cause like, Sabo’s parents bought him the place?? And stocked it with all of their shit so they could use his place as an alternate party-hosting sorta thing, when they wanted a more “intimate” feel and all that. Ace moved in to help pay rent after Sabo’s parents get Shittier, and there’s not arguments about the piano, persay, but Ace doesn’t like it because it makes Sabo sad, but Sabo won’t get rid of it because “well I put all that practice into the skill, what if we ever want to host a party with live music?”

And one time waaaaay after Mar/Sab start kinda accidentally implying they run a criminal empire/are taking over for Sabo’s parents, Sabo comes home and flops onto the couch and Marco looks around in restless desire for distraction and asks, “Do you play?”

Sabo laughs, short and bitter, and says, “You could say that.”

“Play something for me?”

(and Sabo….hasn’t even played for Ace, not really, not unless you count the times Ace has walked in on Sabo sitting at the piano, his hands on the keys but no melody playing)

He pulls himself from the couch and walks over and looks at Marco for a minute, then to the piano, and…(it’s the first time Marco has seen his hands shake)

Gently presses a key, ringing and high, and then another,a single diddy, and looks at Marco as if to say is that enough? (and maybe alsowhat do you want from me, only that’snever really been something he can ask people because usually they just take)

Before Marco has an answer sabo shifts to sit down andputs his hands on the keys (and takes a deep breath that makes him sit uppretty and perfect the way he’s been trained, the expression on his face blankand bored, but then-)

(Marco sits next to him on the bench, and it’s short, sothey’re pressed together, side to side, and Sabo faces the piano and Marcofaces out but there’s a whole line where their bodies meet)

Sabo jolts and hits some keys by accident,discordant and startled, and Marco grins and Sabo glares and then playssomething properly

Simple at first, then harder, because he knows how(because he wants to impress)

And then he chances a look over and Marco’s watching him,some indescribable feeling on his face, like he’s breathless, like he’sthinking, and then he seems to come to some decision

They’re already close so it’s easy to…lean in, his lipsclose to the curve of Sabo’s mouth and his fingers falter, a dropped chord heldlong by the pedal as he ducks his head, unwilling to kiss Marco (And Ace, Ace, whatabout Ace? he thinks, guilt welling up like a flood, but Marco’s lips aregrazing his cheeks, like a question, like please, and…like longing and desireand Sabo has never felt wanted. Not like this.)

Marco kisses his cheek, the corner of his lip, and thenSabo tilts his head and kisses him back properly, kisses him breathless, kisseshim and feels like his heart is crawling out his throat, is escaping on everybreath and stealing into Marco’s lungs because his chest feels hollow and ithurts so bad, to kiss him)

The last chord fades away but neither of them notice,Sabo’s hands come off the keys to grip at Marco’s biceps, and he shifts, movesso he can press in closer, so they can lean together, and Marco’s fingertipscreep under his shirt and

(Neither of them notice Ace standing in the loungedoorway, his keys in his limp hand and papers slipping from his grasp)

7. space cowboy prince au

this one is WAY FUNNIER so like PREPARE FOR TONAL WHIPLASH. Lucky and I were talking about the aus I had and I was like “at one point part of what I did to make aus was think of AUs I liked and just smush them together” and she was like “what” and I was like “yeah that’s why I have one au that’s like, space cowboy princes” and she just went “tell me that right now”

a lot of the uhh…world building?? is a combination of doctor who-ish themes and firefly and also I was watching the Disney Pocahontas and thinking about colonisation so the plot gets wild but the basis is Ace is a cowboy (eyy) on a farming/waystop planet, and his dad being Roger is common knowledge but most people are…okay about it, or don’t recognise him. And the people that do are dicks, but also…no-one…cares, I suppose? Or, they care, but at the point of the story he’s twenty and buff and the planet’s sheriff (inherited from his mom) so nobody wants to mess with him. (Also I just realised both of these aus have Ace as a sheriff tho so that’s interesting, but anyway) the interplanetary alliance ((marines)) come by with some trumped up charges and arrest him and his mom kicks a stink and so do his friends but then threatening to blow up the planet and Ace is like woAH no way and agrees to go with them to the Core, but tHEN! on the way to the core, he meets Marco, who is an alien that lives on a planet where they have the draft, basically. And Marco was 1000% planning to defect but then heard the bullshit with Ace and was like WELP I can wait for a little. He steals Ace’s files and deletes the spare copies, and then he and Ace make off in a shuttle for the Whitebeard pirates, who’ve been in contact with Marco for a while and who have arranged a meet up.

But! Before they arrive, the revolutionaries show up to Fuck Shit Up (Rouge called in a Favour) and Marco/Ace get caught in the backlash and shuffled onto the Revolutionary ship as prisoners/ship wreck survivors. TBH they’re not reeeeally prisoners - or, at least, Ace isn’t - but Marco’s still wearing his uniform and (dun dun) the Revolutionary army know that he’s Prince on his planet so they don’t believe he’d run away to join pirates.

Anyway then we meet Sabo, who can hmm…he’s…an empath??? technically?? through touch he can do Psychic Bullshit (as the plot demands snickers) but 95% of the time it’s to figure out People. It’s why he wears gloves and long sleeves though - using his powers to much gives him really awful headaches.

So anyway there’s a whole plot of him having amnesia and Ace not recognising him and Sabo getting his hands on the file that Marco stole and accidentally picking up a strange amusement from the person who wrote it? And he figures out they weren’t being sincere when they wrote all the shit about ace, and that they wanted him for something else, and then he reads the last bit/gets a last flash of knowledge, and shock hits him like a baseball bat. ‘Cause the file has a mind-blowing piece of knowledge about Ace’s….hm, role on his home planet, and the real reason that the marines wanted him.

Oh yeah and it ends with Marco having to get married for the Good of His People and Ace is surprisingly the one who gets what tf is going on with the Feelings Mess between the three of them, lol. (Hysterical considering Sabo is literally an empath.)

Ta-da!

#marsab #marcosabo #aussie's anons #ask aussie #bip bop nari drops #long post #yeah I was like two aus! I can finish this quickly before breakfast!#no. no. that did not happen

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leafyxthiefy · 7 years

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hey, I'm curious; do you have any things in particular that you like to read? Like, au vs canon, favourite tropes/cliches, favourite character povs? (also lol, I'm bored tbh, so, as well, any fic recommendations to stave that off?)

To whichever anon sent this, I hope you know that I’m squinting so hard at this… because no one sends me asks XD but anywho thank you for the interest!~

First of let me tell you that I haven’t read fanfics in like over a year. I know I am a sad little shit, and I should be reading more things but like I just haven’t gotten around to it or found motivation for it. Kill me pls. But anyway this isn’t what you’re asking so onto the actual ask!

I like to read mostly shippy material, platonic is cool and all but like I need my romance because I am that piece of trash. I love fantasy stories, prefer AU over canon any day, like I can worship and praise everyone who is able to do Canonverse to hell, but I prefer AU’s over canonverse. Angst will forever be my love in any story but hurt/comfort is a close second as well as fluff. Tropes, aaaah there’s so many to choose from, let’s see, pining friends who are completely clueless, strangers meeting at a store, misunderstandings this one is a great one lol, umm rivals turned friends and lovers, shit anything you can find in a Spanish novella, I can go on forever on this I s w e a r . so I’ll leave this for now.

Favorite character POV I would say Ace, followed by Sabo, Marco, Law, Izo, Thatch. Since I mostly ship MarcoxAcexSabo, MarAce, SabAce, MarSab, SabLaw, IzoxThatch yeah, as long as it isn’t Luffy please I have developed a no-Luffy pls mentality >>;And I’m so sorry you’re bored!!! Like I said I barely read stuff, but I know tons of people who write, >> Also i can shamelessly promote my own shit even though I barely write right?

@shishiswordsman does amazing Lawlu and she has an AceSab I’ve been meaning to read, as well as some Voltron, find her here on Ao3

@authenticaussie is pretty much the founder and reigning queen of MAS and you can find her various things here on Ao3

If you’re looking for your fill of MAS, please look at the @marcoacesabo blog @rboooks does an amazing job at running it ^^

@paox is also amazing though I have yet to read their stuff, I should at some point, but you can find it here

Oh! Anjelle does some great SabLaw you can find her account here they also have a collab fic which is amazing!!

@emygrl99 is also a great LawLu, SabAce and Voltron writer you can find her here she and I even wrote the collab of the SaboAce year Red Moon can be found on our joint account here, I’m telling ya, shameless self promotion.

@dontaskmewhyi has some great work here

@midnightluck is also amazing read her stuff here

Ummmmm I know more people but without knowing your ship/main character preferences I donno who else to tag lol so if you want certain ships I could compile a list that better fits that, hope this helps and sorry it got so long whoops~

#leafy answers #anon #MAS #MarcoAceSabo #fanfic rec #SaboLaw #SabLaw #MarAce #MarSab #AceSab #ThIzo #fanfiction #One piece

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inaweofdiana · 6 years

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@authenticaussie tagged me to post 7 lines from a WIP and i had too many WIPs so she requested MarSab so here u go bb Im trying to think of anyone to tag that Nari didnt already tag but she tagged all 4.2 people i know so guess ill die Modern AU meeting of these boys

“Oh my god I didn’t.” Sabo buried his face in the paperback copy of Les Miserables he was still holding. “Please tell me I didn’t come onto you.” The guy was a light rose shade of pink. “I can’t. You, uh, you were saying I was your knight in shining armor or something. Don’t worry, nothing happened.” He rushed to add. “You just wouldn’t let go. Kind of like a barnacle. It was almost impressive.” Sabo pressed his face harder into the book like it was an eraser and could do away with his utter mortification at drunk-hitting on Ace’s ex. “I am so sorry.” His voice was muffled by the book. “It’s fine.” The other man was quick to dismiss it. “I am so, so, so sorry.” Sabo repeated with a groan. He wanted to shrivel up and die. “Like I said, it’s fine.” The guy smiled. “If you were boring, I’d be surprised. Ace always goes for interesting people.” His tone held just a hint of self-deprecation, as though he’d stopped himself from finishing that sentence with ‘except me.’

#My writing #marcosabo #one piece #wip #if u wanna do it plz do im just very tired and bery fried

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xamaxenta · 2 years

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Sabo having vampiric tendencies in which Marco allows him to bite with the intention to harm and then spends a repulsive amount of time drinking from the wound

Its fine Marco can heal himself afterwards anyway

#xam screams about bonkers stuff #marsab #marcosabo

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kingsofneon · 3 years

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"If I'm being honest, it's wildly fun to dress up in your things."

The plastic snaps, gloves conforming to Sabo's wrists, and he grins. With the coat on and his smile showing all teeth, he looks entirely like a mad scientist.

Maybe he is a mad scientist - he's eccentric enough, greedy enough, wild enough, and what sane scientist would strap the epitome of health to their medical bench and advance with a wicked gleam in their eyes? Marco gulps.

"I heard you haven't had a check-up in years, Phoenix."

Impersonal words, but his hands less so - they fall, so gently, to tease at his chest, featherlight touch leading to a pinch at his nipples. Marco takes in a sharp breath, and Sabo hums thoughtfully.

"Were you always sensitive, or is this new?"

Marco can feel his face flush, but Sabo is waiting for an answer this time, watching his face, cold hands barely grazing skin.

"Always?" he offers, proud for not stammering, and Sabo tuts.

"But how can we know for sure? Your medical records are so lackluster."

"I don't need-"

"I think the doctor gets to decide what you need," Sabo interrupts smoothly. "Since we have no proof of your original baseline, I guess I'm going to have to do a full body check up."

His smile returns, all sharp edges and delight.

"Say ah," he orders, and after a second of hesitation, Marco complies. Sabo's fingers taste like latex; like plastic, no comfort to the rigid way he smooths his fingers over Marco's teeth, dipping in deep to reach the molars and making Marco drool. It makes Marco squirm, faintly uncomfortable at the probing touch, but then Sabo grabs his chin with his free hand, and movement becomes an impossibility.

Fuck, the strength in his fingers, in his hands, though; Marco swallows the saliva pooling in his mouth as Sabo continues his exploration, fingers dipping into Marco's throat, patting his tongue. He squeezes his eyes shut, wanting so badly to reciprocate, but instead just feeling drool slip down his chin as Sabo probes for a gag reflex.

He doesn't choke till Sabo's whole hand is nearly in his mouth, and even then it's a result of wanting, his tongue pressed up to lick against Sabo's fingers, a whine slipping free. Sabo makes an approving, impressed noise.

"No gag reflex. I suppose we'll never know if that's natural or if you trained it out of yourself, but it's very impressive nonetheless." Sabo's face gains a hint of wicked delight. "Good boy."

With Sabo's hand still shoved in his mouth he has no way to talk. Marco simply whines again, embarrassed by the praise and at the way Sabo takes his time teasing his fingers along Marco's soft palate and tongue, his jaw aching.

Sabo's fingers are slick and shining by the time he pulls his hand free of Marco's mouth, saliva dripping off his fingertips. A few droplets fall to Marco's cheek, and he clears his hoarse throat, his face burning.

"Sabo," he tries, soft, "let me-"

"The only thing you're going to do is stay still," Sabo says, and Marco wants to fucking whine, some pathetic mewl of protest slipping from his lips.

"But-"

"Still." Sabo insists, his hand pressing down on Marco's collarbone, threatening for the throat, and Marco leans into it, feeling as though he's going to vibrate out of his skin. He knows that's probably what this is for - Sabo loves to drive him wild, loves to force himself against the things Marco's comfortable with until he's putty, but-

"Phoenix, where's your baseline, huh? You spend so long taking care of other people - what happens when someone has to take care of you, and has nothing?"

Sabo's posture stiffens, almost imperceptibly. If Marco wasn't attuned to every shift, to the way Sabo is acting right now, he might've missed it. As it is, Sabo's tease has revealed more than he'd wanted, showing his cards far earlier than he planned. Sabo likes him out of it, incognizant or tired, before he bares open his secrets, and Marco's needy but not yet lost to Sabo's probing tests.

What if he has nothing? Sabo never knows what to give, how to help, and sometimes Marco forgets that Sabo has spent years seeing him as a cool, untouchable figure. Most people do, after all; he's long since gotten used to awe, even from his family, who treat him with more comfort than most. Marco's always in control, but Sabo has lost so many unbreakable, undefeatable people. To test Marco's limits-

He settles back on the table slowly, body still vibrating with need, and Sabo pokes his tongue out with a scowl.

"Whatever you're thinking is too nice for me, stupid," he says, and Marco lets his own teasing grin flicker to his face.

"I don't think doctors are meant to belittle their patients. Would you mock me if I was in pain?"

"Yes," Sabo says with a sneer, but his taunting aura has recovered, confidence pulled back to cover his insecurities. "And this doctor thinks you're shit at saying when you're in pain, anyway, so I should mock you constantly."

"Oh no, whatever will I do with this great deviation in your behaviour," Marco drawls, and Sabo wipes his drool-covered fingers on Marco's neck.

"Put up with it, asshole."

Marco splutters at the touch, nothing arousing in how Sabo has decided to smear saliva all over him, but before he can add further protests, Sabo has his hands braced on Marco's pecs, cupping them together and pulling upward viciously, so Marco's words are lost to a strangled moan. The grip hurts, wonderfully so, Sabo pinching at his nipples and sending flares of bright pain and pleasure through him. Marco jerks into the touches, each eager twist making him whimper and beg, useless for it. Sometimes it's embarrassing how sensitive he is; right now, he has no thoughts in his head beyond his throbbing cock and Sabo's talented hands.

"I think everyone should know what nice tits you have," Sabo says, almost mocking, almost proud, the brief flare of haki in his fingertips making Marco arch off the table, head thrown back as he moans. "Pretty Phoenix with his sensitive body. It's so hard to build up tolerance to pleasure when nothing ever hurts, huh?" Marco whines out a no, and Sabo clicks his tongue, the grip he takes on sensitive skin making Marco almost cry, whimpering. "People can just keep pushing till you break."

Marco’s words are broken by his harsh panting, by his unsteady trembles, but he still manages to offer, "You want that?"

"I already know how to make you break," Sabo says dismissively, lip curled. "Everybody else should just know every way."

Marco shakes his head, half a movement, pressing his cheek to the cold sheets for a moment to brace himself. "Thought you were- healing. Doctor."

"Breaking you down and building you back is healing too, isn't it?" Sabo says, “That's what you do with bones, when you don’t know how they healed the first time.”

Some strangled noise escapes him, the headlong rush of pleasure summoned so easily with Sabo’s knowledge of him, but then Sabo’s hands are gone, a biting fire left in his wake. He groans, angry, but Sabo merely grins, gloved hands skimming down Marco’s abdomen. It’s almost worse than having his orgasam denied, the impersonal plastic of those gloves instead of Sabo’s calloused hands, and Marco doesn’t bother stopping his scowl.

“Told you that you make me too nice,” Sabo retorts, but he leans in to press a grazing kiss against Marco’s open mouth. It’s sweet, nice, even without deepening the touch, and Marco feels his irritation fade, eyes falling closed.

“I know you,” he murmurs, and Sabo scoffs and turns his attention back to his slow exploration, his careful investigation of Marco’s body. His gloved hands trace Marco’s hipbones, following the dip of muscled skin against his bone, evidence of a youth when his fruit kept him alive but not healthy. It can heal a lot, but he’s long since learned every limitation of it - he’s had time.

His pelvis is next, and Sabo presses his hand down flat, feeling each of Marco’s shuddering breaths. The pressure makes him shift, Sabo’s fingers digging into his thigh and grazing far-too-sensitive skin, and he can hear Sabo’s grin.

“God you’re just nerves everywhere, aren’t you?”

“Wasn’t this a checkup?” Marco says, adding a hint of impatience to his tone, and then - because he knows it’ll make Sabo amused - he adds, “perhaps you could do a check up on my dick, Doctor. It’s been hard for so long.”

Oh the reward of such a stupid line; Sabo sputters, then laughs, the sound shocked out of him before he cuts it off, barely suppressing the noise. “The two minutes it normally takes for you to cum isn’t long,” he retorts, but his hand slips low, firm against Marco’s cock.

He almost fucking sighs at the touch, the edges of tension from his earlier denied orgasam leaving as Sabo carefully strokes him, but the gloves- oh they don’t feel right, and a longing for Sabo’s proper hands fills him, the friction of flesh instead of smooth rubber. A click belies a bottle opening, but Marco still isn’t prepared for Sabo squeezing lube against his ass.

He jerks with a yelp, and Sabo snickers, fingers probing the wet slick inside him. It’s always weird, that first touch, the steady press of someone’s hand, and with Sabo’s gloves on it’s even weirder, human warmth dampened by the latex. Unlike the few times they’ve used a condom, there’s nothing about this to draw his attention away from the odd sensation.

“Sabo-” he whines, trying not to squirm at the perfunctory stretch, the difference between how Sabo normally makes it ache, like penance for giving up control, “the gloves, come on, take them off-”

“That’s Doctor, phoenix,” Sabo says. “And I can’t believe, as a fellow medical professional, that you’re advocating for such malpractice. Shove my fist inside you without a glove? A prostate exam is messy business.”

“A-?” Marco’s eyes come open, narrowed, “Sabo.”

“Heard you haven’t had one of those in ages,” Sabo continues, completely ignoring the tone that Marco’s using, “but not to worry, I know what I’m doing.”

Marco jerks again, this time with a moan, as Sabo’’s probing fingers press against him. Stars burst in front of his vision as Sabo takes his fucking time rubbing over that stupid spot, a soft hum coupled with the movement. Sabo’s grin, through Marco’s slitted eyes, is predatory.

“Mostly. You’ll have to forgive my mistakes. I’m not nearly as good a doctor as you.”

“Aren’t a-” Sabo thumbs over him hard, the pressure enough to make Marco’s cock jerk, tears springing to his eyes at how quickly pleasure has swamped him- “fuck!”

“Hey, looks like this still works,” Sabo says, but the bare movement he makes is merely to press another finger into Marco, searching again until Marco writhes on the table, breathless. “I should probably double-check though, right? What’s that thing you say all the time, once is an accident, three times is a pattern?”

“Three?” Marco says, his voice dragged pathetically high as Sabo rubs against his prostate again, his limbs shuddering as pleasure climbs and climbs and hovers at the crest, pressed against his body’s limitations.

“Oh, is it more?” Sabo responds with a curious hum. “Well, I can do more.”

“Sabo, I can’t-” Marco shudders through another orgasm, a mewl dragged from his lips, and Sabo slows, tauntingly grazing just the edges; enough to make him shake, restless energy pulling at his limbs, but not near enough to drive him to incoherence. “Hands,” he whispers, the odd touch of elastic barring him from touch, from Sabo’s warm, wonderful skin.

To be bereft of touch - he’s starved of it, a drawback of awe that he never normally contemplates, and having it denied this way makes his eyes sting, a useless hiccup catching at his breath. He knows Sabo’s delighted at the expression on his face by the way he coos, thumb pressing against Marco’s entrance.

“I’m just trying to be a professional,” Sabo says, smoothing his free hand over Marco’s heaving stomach as his third finger pops inside, the stretch making Marco groan. “But I guess, sometimes for the comfort of the patient-”

As his fingers circle Marco’s prostate, a hypnotic thing, Sabo brings his hand up to his mouth and peels off the glove with his teeth, tossing it to the side as soon as it’s off. Marco’s babbling almost as soon as it touches him, praise falling from his lips as Sabo’s warm, scarred skin smooths up his stomach and rubs a circle against his diaphragm.

“I’ve rewarded you,” Sabo says, every word as deliberate as his dragging touches, “now you reward me, yeah?”

Reward him with Marco, weak, pliant, human, and he wants so badly to give Sabo what he wants, but everything already aches, a solid hook dragging the last dregs of pleasure into his gut. Sabo can play him like a fool, but knowledge of what he’s being asked for doesn’t stop Marco from trying to fight back. Sabo’s touch is a fissure of electricity, a livewire inside him, and his skin is thrumming with oversensitivity.

He knows what Sabo’s asking for, what he’ll give, and Marco rocks against Sabo’s fingers, trying to make him angle them properly, to press against a spot already aching with sensitivity. Marco’s thighs are a mess, sticky and wet, but Sabo’s touch has kept him half-hard, and Marco’s always been a sucker for pain - and for his partners. Sabo grins gleefully.

“Don’t worry, Phoenix. I’ll take care of you.”

#glove kink #medical kink #fic: oh doctor doctor #marsab #opnsfw #me @ my friend's friend who said smth nice abt me: psspspspsps #yeah?? yeah?? glove kink??? enough glove??? I can do more glove #my writing #lmao this took so long..........writing before work and when I get home is only like. 30 minutes a day #OOF!!!! OOF!!!!!

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marcoacesabo · 7 years

Note

hey, do u think u could maybe do a follow-up to that one story where ace goes to his dad for advice about his relationship with marsab? Like, where he talks to them about how he's been feeling, with some more insecurity? i think that youre really good at writing angst

Ace takes a deep breath summoning all of his courage before he pressed the call button.

The screen turns dark for a second, a small symbol of a phone pops up in the middle. Around it, a white circle spins, twirling slowly. Silver eyes watch as it rises and falls nervously each time it cycles again.

He hadn’t told them he was calling, maybe he was being an annoyance? Should he call them? Roger said he needed to speak to them but maybe now wasn’t the best time to-

His computer beeps as Marco’s face appears on the screen. He is smiling at him, but there are large bags under his eyes. Ace frowns in worry at him even as Marco waves.

“Hi Ace.” He mumbles.

It’s not enthusiastic and that makes fear settle in the pit of his stomach. The raven hair youth weakly smile back. “Hi Marco. Are you busy?”

“Yes actually. I can’t talk long. What do you need.” Chill. Quick to the point. Maybe a little hurried and impatient.

Marco never talks to him like that before…Were Ace’s worries real? No. No over thinking. After all Dad said he needed to talk to them before he made any rash decisions.

“I actually want to talk to you and Sabo. Do you know if he’s free?” The freckled male starts, biting his lip when he notices Marco had turn away from the screen. He waits for Marco to look back but the blond is busy reading papers.

“Marco?” He calls after a minute or two.

His boyfriend hums clearing telling him to continue but his blue eyes are skimming the page. Ace squishes the irritation down. It’s fine, he’s listening that’s okay.

He can’t be selfish, his boyfriend is in a different time zone and obviously very busy. At least he answered him, that’s a good sign, right?

He glances at the call symbol realizing Sabo hasn’t answered yet. He chews on his lip, he wanted to speak to both so there would be no misunderstanding but if he’s too busy? Wasn’t it like mid-day where he was?

“Ace, can you please hurry up. I have a train to catch in less than thirty minutes and I still haven't even finished half the pages I need to read.” Marco’s voice comes across the speakers a bit of irradiation in his tone.

“Oh. Oh yeah. Actually this...this won't’ take long I just have something I need to get off my chest. We can wait for Sabo since it involves him too.” He stumbles over his words wishing his other love would just pick up. He knows that the call was going to be now, where was he?

“He won’t answer today. He impressed three high ranked members of the Albasta council. They invited him to a dinner.” Marco mumbles absentmindedly.

Silver eyes blink. “Oh, that’s good for him. Sabo didn’t mention this to me,”

Marco lets out a put up sigh and Ace winces. He was being annoying again, bothering his hard-working boyfriends. “He doesn’t have to report everything to you and things come up. You know it’s a great opportunity for him.”

“But he still could have rescheduled with me. I send him a message to have a conference call two days ago...”

“He probably forgot to say anything since it was so last minute, that happens.” Marco is quick to say, rolling his eyes like it’s Ace who’s being childish.

He didn’t forget to tell you. Ace thinks but bites his tongue. He doesn’t want to make this into a big deal. He’ll just fill the other in later. It’s fine. It hurts a little but it’s fine.

“I guess it’s okay....can I tell you about something that’s been bothering me lately?” Ace pulls on his bangs a bit, one of his knees bouncing up and down as Marco nods at him still looking away.

The Portgas takes a deep breath then rushes out. “It’s about our relationship. Recently I’ve been feeling unsure of where I fit in the picture and I was hoping we can talk about it so I wouldn’t feel so lost.”

He trails off, glancing at the screen, heart pounding.

Marco nods eyes locked with his and Ace feels more confident to continue, now that he had the blond’s uninvited attention. He smiles weakly, then starts outlining his worries and his feelings.

He drops his eyes to his hands, unable to look Marco in the eye because he’s scared he’ll chicken out of those blue orbs stay staring at him.

He practiced this before, had even pitched it to Roger and Luffy just to make sure it didn’t seem like he is accusing his partners of anything, only speaking about his emotions and his insecurities.

At first, the words are hard to get past the lump in his throat and he has to blink away tears once or twice but soon the words are easier to say, flowing out of him like water from a broken dam. He speaks about the feeling of dragging them down. Of being left out. Of being lonely. of how much a phone call or text would mean to him. How lately he feels like they don’t want him.

Ace doesn’t raise his gaze allowing his voice to fill the silence. Marco says nothing, through the whole thing allowing Ace to speak his piece. It means the world to him.

Once he’s done, he raises his head wondering what the blond will say. Marco is nodding, expression serious but something about his gaze makes Ace do a double take. It’s not on the camera, not completely, in fact, it’s little ways to the right.

His eyes are moving side to side gently too, which is puzzling.

It’s almost as if he was reading.

“Marco?” Ace calls. The blond continues nodding, brows wrinkled in a way Ace recognizes. It the habit he does when he is reading a report paper and can’t figure out the handwriting.

“Marco, are you even listening to me?” Ace demands because he just poured his heart and soul. Was the man really working while he did it? The blond tilts his head, yet still says nothing. He opens his mouth slightly, like his going to say something.

The youth watches his mouth move but hears nothing.

That's when he realizes.

Marco had muted him. While he spoke about feeling ignored and lonely.

Ace gaps at him, feeling like someone had smacked him. Shocked tears start to roll down his face. In that moment Marco’s blue eyes flicker to the camera.

Instantly his face clouds with alarm and he mouths What’s wrong, Ace?

Ace’s shock expression melts into a glare, he whips at his tears as Marco stares from the other side of the screen, his lips moving too fast for the raven-haired man to read them.

He looks hopelessly lost until Ace angerly points to his ear before his eyes widen. He presses a button and the sound returns. Ace’s breath hitches horrible as he shouts “I called you to talk to you about something important to me and you mute me!?”

Marco winces “I’m sorry Ace, but I just had to finished this paper and were taking too long to answer-”

“Do you even hear anything I said!?” The boy screams. Marco’s expression is enough to tell him the answer. And really that's it. That’s enough to tell him what Marco and Sabo both thought about him.

He hates the sob that rips from his chest as he glares through his tears. “I’m done. We’re over.”

“Ace, please calm down. You’re being unreasonable about this-”

“I am not being unreasonable!” He screams loud enough his throat hurts, his breath is coming in fast pants and he’s red in the face. He knows because he can feel it burning but it’s not the good kind of burning.

Marco gaps at him. Usually Ace allows them to do this, to downplay his feelings, to walk over him just to avoid confrontation. But not this time. Not this time.

“We. are. Over. Good fucking luck with your work Marco I won’t bother you while you work anymore. Don’t fucking talk to me ever again just to be sure hm? Tell Sabo that too for me. After all, you’re such a great messenger boy.” He hisses swallowing to try and stop the torturous tears that won’t stop rolling.

His heart feels like it’s shattering, and he feels so unbelievably numb besides the rage blowing wildly in his chest. He doesn’t give the other time to respond before he slams the end button.

Instantly a call pops up form Marco but Ace blocks him. He then moves to block Sabo too just to be safe. Fueled by rage he opens all his social media, blocking both the blonds, tears making the screen hard to see but he doesn’t stop until they have no means of contacting him.

It’s later after he finishes that he sobs into his hands feeling used and regretful. Roger gave him sound advice, but maybe he should have listened to Luffy from the start.

Ace I don’t like them. They don’t treat you right, they act like you’re a second thought! Break up with them.

Had he really meant nothing to them at all?

#Anonymous #Angst #Emotional Abuse #Neglect #Break ups #Yo people don't let your partners treat you like this #Break up with them

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wordsdrippinginink · 7 years

Note

Have you ever considered MAS [or I'm not picky MarAce, SabAce, MarSab] Cinderella AU?? ♥

“Why do we need a ball?” Ace asks, voice just short of whining as he sprawled over the lounge, arm thrown over his eyes. “I’m perfectly happy marrying Sabo!”

“Because,” Sabo answers calmly. “The council is under the impression that you’ll fall desperately in love with a member of the nobility and be perfectly happy pretending that I never existed.”

Ace peeks at Sabo, “You know that would never happen, right? If anything, I’ll end up making them love you too.”

(The rest is under the cut!)

“I know, but that’s what the council thinks,” Sabo states letting Ace pull him down into his lap. “They can’t stop you from marrying me, not when your mother married a pirate from another country.”

“Mom is pretty badass.”

“Do you know any of the nobles? Or their children?”

Ace hums, glancing over the list that Sabo had in his hands, tapping a name, “Marco. We were close as kids, but his dad went away. He was a merchant that dad fought often, but he never came back and he didn’t come visit me anymore.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to have him invited, I remember you telling me about him. I’m sure he misses you just as much.”

“I wanted to marry him when I was little.”

Sabo laughs, “Then I have to make sure he comes, I want to see if your mother was right when she said you had a type.”

“You would think,” Thatch mutters leaning against the back door. “That the old lady would hire some help with how much money your father left.”

Marco snorts, “Why do that when she can use me for free? She’s spending my father’s money faster than the company can make it. Vista was here two days ago to tell her that she can’t access the main accounts anymore. He made sure that she didn’t know that I could still.”

“Yeah, as if you could do anything with the money. She’s got you trapped.”

“I can’t just leave. Not when my father put so much money and time into making this place. This is my home.”

“I know, doesn’t mean that I like how you’re treated,” Thatch says darkly. “When do they wake up?”

“Not until noon. Teach and Weevil were out until late and their mother was out even later. She barely made it back before sun up. The neighbors will be talking about it.”

“That’s her fault. How much money do they have coming in from their parts of the company now, without being able to dip into the funds directly?”

Marco frowns, “Not enough to keep up their life style and Vista’s refusing to let her dip into the money that I get from the company because my father put it in trust for me. So, there’s going to be a decrease in their purchases, but on the down side, I’ll have to deal with them more.”

“Ugh,” Thatch sighs pushing himself away from the door with a sigh. “I have to get going. You gonna be okay? Or do you need some help?”

“I should be fine,” Marco promises. “Thanks.”

Thatch nods, “You can always ask for help, you know. You have friends that want to help you if you need it.”

Marco waves his concerns away, waiting until Thatch’s horse has headed off into the distance before leaning heavily against the table and sighing, feeling the hours of work from the night before and the night before that weighing heavily down on his shoulders.

The chore lists were getting longer and longer and the time to complete them was decreasing. There wasn’t anything for it, he just had to suffer until he was old enough to take all over his father’s business and take the house back from his stepmother.

“Marco,” He turns. “Water for my bath. I’m far to disgusting to sleep.”

“Of course stepmother,” Marco states calmly. “I’ll have it done as soon as possible.”

“Hurry up.”

Marco grabs a bucket from beside his table and hurries to the well, already knowing that he’s going to be running on too little sleep and even less food.

“You’ll make sure that Marco gets that, won’t you Sabo? I’ve missed him so much.”

“I have heard all of your stories,” Sabo promises him, grinning as he slips on the jacket he stole from one of the delivery men. “I’ll make sure the other love of your life will come to the party.”

“You’re the love of my life,” Ace says kissing him lightly. “But he’s important to me.”

Sabo laughs, “If that’s possible to have more than one, you know. I can share your heart with someone else, as long as they’re everything that you told me about them.”

“Thank you,” Ace says softly. “For this.”

“You owe me. Big time. That means Koala gets to come to the ball.”

Ace sighs, “Fine. But only this time!”

“You can’t be jealous of Koala if I can’t be jealous of Marco.”

“I loathe you,” Ace smiles. “Thank you, for this. I know it’s not really your job.”

“Well, my job is to make you happy. I’ll be back soon.”

Marco blinks at the messenger, feeling like he should know this man is, but pushing it aside as he smiles politely.

“An invitation to the Ball for the Crown Prince,” He says smiling back, the scar around his eye pulling strangely. “One for the family and one for Marco Newgate, from the prince himself.”

“For, for me?” Marco asks before he can stop himself.

The man stops, something strange crossing his face before it blanked again, “You’re Marco Newgate? No offense, sir, you just, you look like help.”

“I’ve been told. Thank you, but tell Ace that I,” Marco thinks that his heart is going to break. “I don’t think I can make it.”

“He specifically requested your presence.”

“What’s taking so long, you lazy boy!”

Marco flinches, “I’m sorry.”

“At least, consider it please? The Crown Prince was very insistent that you come to his ball. He misses you.”

“Boy!”

“I’m sorry. Please, just tell him that I’m sorry.”

He closes the door, leaning heavily against it and shoving his own invitation into his pocket before heading further into the house, pausing outside the door to the lounge before knocking and entering.

“A invitation from the palace,” Marco says bowing as he entered. “I apologize for the time I took, the messenger was asking directions to the next house.”

“An invitation?” Teach asks curiously. “For what?”

“A ball, he said, for the Crown Prince.”

Weevil sighs, “It sounds boring.”

“You idiot boys,” Bakkin snaps. “Don’t you see what this is? The Crown Prince has to marry, this ball will be the perfect time for that to happen. To introduce yourself and make an impression. To be his spouse when he becomes the king!”

Marco bites his tongue as the invitation is ripped from his hands and Bakkin starts to talk about things. About the money they need to use for their clothes and how it will cut into their other expenses, her face dark as she tries to stay inside the budget that they have been reduced to.

“You, boy,” Marco wonders if she ever remembers his name. “Why are you just standing there? Get back to work, it’s not like you could attend.”

“The invitation is for everyone,” Marco says nails biting into the palm of his hand. “I could go to.” The separate one, his very own, burns in his pocket and he wants to go. If only to see Ace again. He had missed him, when Bakkin had told him that he was no longer free to do as he pleased. “If I desired.”

“That’s a laugh,” Teach says rolling his eyes. “You don’t even have something to wear. What are you going to do? Wear those rags to the party? Can you imagine?”

“Oh, your majesty, these are my finest things!” Weevil laughs. “You would be the laughing stock of the whole town.”

Marco bites his tongue and bows, “I have chores to complete.”

“Boy,” He pauses. “I have a list of chores for you to complete, by tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Something’s wrong,” Sabo states when he returns to the palace, Ace all but begging to hear how Marco was doing. “He was dressed like the lowest servant and the woman in the house called him boy.”

“Bakkin, Edward Newgate’s second wife. He, he married her because there was concern that her second son might be his, but I doubt that he is, dad does to and dad knows Edward best.”

Sabo nods, “I know a bit about Bakkin Newgate. Rude, inclined to throw money around like water, the kind of person that my parents loved to be involved with.”

“I knew that Marco wouldn’t have stopped visiting me without a reason!”

“But that means he might not be able to come.”

Ace frowns, eyes narrowing, “He has to come, please. What can I do?”

“There’s a story from my home land,” Sabo says grinning. “About a girl that has a fairy godmother who helps her attend a series of parties and how it ends with her falling in love with and marrying a King. There’s no fairy godmothers, but I talked to some of his friends, we should be able to do something to help him.”

“I want him here, you saw him. How did he look?”

“Tired. Tired and overworked,” Sabo answers finally. “It’s not, I don’t think things have been going well for him since you last saw each other. But,” He smiles. “I can see why you would fall in love with him.”

“You can?”

“That doesn’t mean that I’m going to fall in love with him.”

“So,” Marco blinks at the man from the day before leaning against the back door. “I’m Sabo.”

“Marco Newgate.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sabo smiles. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to the ball? The prince says that I should beg you to come. He’ll do anything.”

Marco shakes his head, remembering the letter beseeching him to come. All but begging for Marco to come to the ball, even if he came in rags or only for a moment, because Ace just wanted to see he was alright.

“Why?”

“I don’t have the time,” Marco starts.

“I could help? And one of your friends said that he would help too.”

“What?”

Thatch waves, “We can handle your chores for a few hours. Go and buy clothes and shit for the ball, Marco. You want to go, don’t you?”

“You think, do you think that Ace wants me to go?”

Sabo tilts his head, “The prince is worried that you won’t come and he’s been begging his personal aid to do anything he can to make sure you come and see him. If only for a moment.”

“Alright,” Marco sighs. “Okay. I’ll, I’ll go and get things. Bakkin and her sons are out and they will be until noon, I should be back before then.”

“Take my horse,” Thatch says grinning. “Go!” He waits the long moments before turning to Sabo. “You are suspicious, you know that right?”

Sabo grins, “That’s fine. As long as Marco attends the ball then I don’t mind.”

“You are really weird.”

Vista grins when Marco appears in his office, already handing him the money that the Prince’s note had asked him to pull out for Marco, “I hear you are going to a ball.”

“Apparently Ace wants me to be there.”

“I hear Jozu got in some interesting items, if that’s the sort of thing that you are into.”

“Thank you.”

Ace paces checking his clothes as Sabo smiles, slumped in the chair nearby, watching him, “Marco is coming, isn’t he?”

“Hm,” Sabo agrees. “I can understand why you love him so much.”

“You can?” Ace grins. “Are you falling in love with him too?”

“Maybe.”

“Come to the ball with me too. We can both dance with Marco. See him.”

“I don’t have,” Ace gestures at his wardrobe grinning. “You didn’t.”

“You were so busy making sure that Marco came that I had to have you there too!”

Sabo grins, “I did want to dance with Marco.”

“Then come on.”

“Fine. Fine. But only because you insisted.”

“Stay,” Ace says softly, his hand soft on Marco’s arm, eyes wide and hopeful behind his mask. “With us?”

“And that’s okay,” Marco asks trying to look at them both. “Staying with you?”

“We, both of us, want you to stay,” Sabo says smiling.

“My home-”

“We can get it back from Bakkin. We can get all of your things back and you can go home and visit any time.”

Marco swallows heavily, “Are, what are they going to say? The three of us?”

“Nothing,” Ace says finally stepping forward. “No one can say anything because you are mine. You’re both mine and I want to keep, nothing will stop me from that. Unless you say no?”

“I want to stay.”

Ace nods, “Than stay. Stay here, with us. Please.”

“We both want you to stay,” Sabo adds.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stay.”

#marcosaboace #marcoacesabo #Cinderella au #marco is cinderella #this is a little long #but it kinda ends weird #because i wasn't 100 percent sure #what i wanted to do in the end #but I think it could be worse #sorry.#leafyxthiefy #word's writings

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authenticaussie · 7 years

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can you write something with marco and sabo? sabo being angry and not wanting to be around marco? or sabo trapped somewhere and he wants ace but gets marco instead? Thank you!

references to nonconsensual drug use & sickness

Commissions || Ko-Fi || [Requests are closed!]

It isn’t like Marco makes a habit of letting his phone ring on and on. It isn’t at all like he usually stares at the caller ID and wonders why he’s being called. It isn’t like he usually questions whether or not he should pick up his phone.

It’s just-

This is Sabo. And he’s never been called by Sabo.

He hesitates and this time Izo pays attention, wandering up to him with a frown on his face and a cup of tea in his hands. “Aren’t you going to answer it?” he asks, and Marco makes a little noise in the back of his throat, tilting the screen so Izo can see it. “Oh,” Izo says. Then, he rolls his eyes. “Why does he only ever call to yell at you?”

“Because he doesn’t like me?” Marco says in return, then quickly swipes to answer before Sabo finds another thing to get annoyed about.

Sabo’s already speaking before Marco can say a word, words tripping over each other in a staggering rush, but the way he speaks-

He sounds like he’d been talking before Marco had even picked up the phone, and it makes him frown, trying to pick up Sabo’s story. He’s about to ask Sabo to slow down when he suddenly hears a sharp hitch of breath, and he’s hit with the sudden realisation that Sabo is crying.

Sabo is crying.

“Are you okay?” he finds himself asking, unable to stop himself, and Izo’s eyes sharpen at the look on Marco’s face. Sabo’s suddenly silent, confronted by Marco’s voice, and Marco’s heart is in his throat, the faintest tinge of panic making him worry. For all that Sabo doesn’t like him, he’s still Ace’s brother, and Marco won’t let anything hurt Ace.

“’re not Ace,” Sabo mumbles, voice low and disoriented, “s’all- colours and Ace. I need- Ace, I ma- made- a mistake, I need-”

“Where are you?” Marco asks, already pushing past his brothers, and Izo’s on his heels, snagging the car keys from Marco’s hand and helping herd Marco out the door, telling their brothers to shush. Sabo’s still silent, so it’s not like the bustle that has sprung up within their house will really make Marco miss what Sabo says next, but it’s still helpful that they’re being quiet.

“I don’t-” Sabo says, and takes a shuddering breath, “know,” he says, short and sharp and fast, like he can barely get it out. He whines, shaky and pained, “I don’t know I don’t-”

Marco’s eyes go wide as he clips his seatbelt in, and Izo starts the car, gaze resting uncomfortably on Marco as he waits for an address. “Sabo, it’s okay, calm down. Are you near a street sign? Can you tell me what you see?”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Sabo spits, but the words aren’t nearly as threatening as they usually are. Thatch slides into the back of the car, brandishing his GPS when Izo glares and opens his mouth to kick him out, but Marco silences them both with a glare when Sabo starts to talk again. “Was- was on- a job, for Dragon. And I-” Sabo goes silent again, but Marco can hear him stumbling around, falling against things as he tries to walk. He hits something hard, if his muffled grunt is anything to go by, but finally seems to remember he was talking to someone and manages to continue, “In my drink, when I was- interviewing them- gave me- something.”

He heaves, breath too fast and too shallow, but he finally manages to give Marco an address; “Was on Hardison, in the CBD. But now I- I hear the sea?”

“Hardison, by the sea,” he snaps to Izo, and then says to Sabo. “We’re coming, Sabo.”

“I don’t need-” Sabo snaps, but his voice shakes and he has to stop. When he speaks again, the softness of his words sounds like a surrender: “don’t leave.”

Awkward hesitation holds him on the phone, and Marco’s brow knits as he tries to think of what to do - of what to say to someone who sees him as an irritation, to be ignored or insulted.

Sabo suddenly gags and Marco winces, recognising the sound of someone throwing up from years of taking care of his brothers. Sabo’s breath hitches into a sob, panicked and short, and Marco grits his teeth, wishing he knew what to do to help. He can’t even call Ace like he’d planned because he doesn’t want to leave Sabo to battle this panic alone.

“Sabo-” he tries, “just stay calm-”

“Fuck you,” Sabo says, almost hysterical, but he’s taken a deeper breath and though he still sounds drunk he’s at least grabbed something to focus on.

“I don’t really put that on offer,” Marco replies easily, and this, at least, this is something he knows how to deal with. Sharp tongue and sharp mind and Sabo won’t rest until he has the last word, so maybe Marco can keep him awake and sane.

“No-one would take you up on it,” Sabo says, and Marco closes his eyes, giving a soft, thankful breath.

“That’s what you think,” he says, and can’t help but be proud that his voice doesn’t shake.

“It’s what anyone with eyes would think,” Sabo returns, but then he whimpers again, pained and fearful. Marco can’t listen and pulls the phone away from his ear, covering the microphone so that he can say,

“Izo, please.”

“It’s hard when the only direction I have is a single street name,” Izo snaps, his hands tightening around the steering wheel, and then Thatch lunges from the backseat, holding up his GPS.

“This is the only place on Hardison near enough to the docks for Sabo to hear the sea.”

Izo snatches it off him, sticking it on the windscreen and taking off down the dark streets, and Marco quickly puts the phone back to his ear, his heart aching with how Sabo’s sobs echo through the receiver.

“We’re coming, Sabo, we’re coming, I promise.”

“Ace-” he whispers, “Ace, no, you’re with Luffy-”

Marco bites his tongue, weighing in an instant the consequences of a half-truth before he says gently, “Luffy’s fine, Sabo.”

“Don’t bring him,” Sabo pleads, and Marco hears a metallic thunk and Sabo’s teeth chattering, “I don’t- can’t see me like- ah, Ace-” he stops, voice low, and Marco almost misses it when Sabo admits, “it hurts. Fuck, it hurts, I’m- scared.”

This is the first time he’s ever heard Sabo cry. He can’t help but hope that it’s also the last.

“Luffy’s asleep,” he says instead of trying to get Sabo to stop sounding like that, “he won’t see, it’s okay. Just concentrate on staying awake, okay? Concentrate on happy things.”

“What happy things?” Sabo says hoarsely, but it’s coupled with a dark laugh and Marco grits his teeth into a teasing grin.

“Murder?“

“You’re a terrible influence,” Sabo says, but it’s too soft, too weak, too-

Izo slows and Marco’s about to snap when he notices where they are. His heart thumps painfully hard in his chest as he racks the dark streets, and when he notices the body slumped against the telephone pole ahead he barely waits for Izo to stop the car before he tumbles out.

“Marco!” Izo calls worriedly, the car parked badly on the streetside, but there’s a hint of warning in his tone. This could be a trap, and Marco’s far too worried to be able to react quickly. He ignores the voice in his head that pleads for him to listen to Izo’s caution, however, and narrowly sidesteps a puddle of bile to kneel by Sabo’s side

“Oh you idiot,” he breathes, carefully running his hand through Sabo’s sweaty hair and waking Sabo from his feverish doze.

“Get off me, Marco,” Sabo says, but sharp words have lost their edges and his hand - and phone - only flops uselessly against Marco’s wrist as he tries to push Marco away.

“Can you stand?” he asks, brow knit as he carefully catches Sabo’s hand, feeling it shake, and Sabo tilts his head back, the bare arch of his foot and his thigh his silent struggle to get his feet under him. Discomfort crawls up Marco’s throat, but they can’t just leave Sabo here; he needs a bed, at the very least, and Marco’s praying that he’ll consent to a check for any bad injuries, even if he won’t let the nurses take care of them. “I’m gonna pick you up, Sabo. Is that okay?”

“No, no- go away.” Sabo hisses, head lolling to the side as he stares stubbornly into the dark, “Ace is-”

“Ace is in the car,” Marco interrupts, and Sabo gives him a distrustful glare but finally nods, his lip curling as he tries to stifle a whimper. Marco can see his body shake, composure crumbling under the weight of the pain he’s in. He doesn’t stop to question why Ace isn’t by his side, thankfully, and merely gives a tiny nod, gripping tighter to Marco’s wrist.

Carefully, Marco slides Sabo’s arms around his neck, his hand sliding behind Sabo’s back and under his knees. With a grunt he picks Sabo up, and Sabo whimpers, pressing his head against Marco’s chest. “I want to go home,” he whispers, and Marco casts his eyes to the night sky and wishes for guidance. Wishes that he knew what to do with Sabo weak in his arms, when Sabo’s previous definition of ‘weakness’ had been a single slip of the tongue or the holes in his ironclad heart that had been carved to fit Ace and Luffy.

“I’ll take you to Ace,” he says, biting his tongue, but Sabo’s eyes have already slid shut and there’s heavy pain in the crease of his forehead. Thatch hovers worriedly as Marco picks his way across the sidewalk and to the car, and even Izo has a touch of concern in his face.

“Will he be-?” Izo asks, and Marco crushes the surge of hopelessness that rises in him.

“I don’t know. Let’s just get home, okay?”

Thatch cracks the door open for him, and Marco carefully lays Sabo in the back seat. He’s completely out of it now, and only gives a tiny, pained sob as he gets moved, curling up tightly. When Marco gets into the other side, the sight of him makes his chest clench, and he can’t help but run his hand through Sabo’s hair, watching as the tense hold on his shoulders loosens just slightly, his hand moving to grip Marco’s pant leg instead of his scraped palms.

He’s burning up, sweat collecting on his clammy skin, but Marco can feel the tremors that race through his body and how he shivers, teeth chattering.

“Please, hurry,” Marco says as Izo gets behind the wheel, and Izo glances back at him, giving a promise with his short nod. Marco’s attention shifts back to Sabo, more words brimming uselessly on his tongue, but he finds he can’t say them; Sabo loves doing things to spite him, after all, and Marco doesn’t want Sabo’s clever tongue to twist please be okay into something that it’s not.

He runs his hand through Sabo’s hair again, eyes caught on the tear tracks curving on his dirty cheeks, and his heart aches with what he wishes he could say.

#opfanfic #nari is writing #ask aussie #aussie's anons #marsab #marco the phoenix #me at self: wow you should wait and finish your other requests and then clear 'em all out #also me: a T TENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION #a n y w a y I'm so tired omfg #PLEASE ENJOY #i'll...keep working........my hard es t #to finish all i need to do.........///lies down and Dies

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