Chapter Text
Ace was probably in one of the most worst situations he could have found himself, a prime omega stuck on the ship of an enemy. His enemies are everywhere. They are constantly surrounding him. Too many enemies. He isn't safe. He's nowhere safe. Not in 'his' room, the halls or the little hiding spots. It wasn't safe enough.
His two instincts were clashing with each other.
On one side he needed to do something to satisfy his inner omega, like build a nest. His old one had been destroyed with the piece of Spadille. He remembered it like it had happened yesterday. He woke up on this ship and one of the first news he heard was that his crew was also here and his ship had sunk. He hoped that there had been a few things rescued before she had sunk, but he couldn't place his hope to high. It hurt. So many good things had been on that ship and so many were unreplaceable.
He has been putting nest building off. This wasn't the place or time. He needed to find his crew, make plans for escape, make plans for an attack and keep his guard up. By doing this he kept pushing his limits. It has been two months without indulging his omega. Every fiber in his being was screaming at him to just build a nest, but he couldn't.
If wasn't safe enough. Someone could discover it. They would find out that he was a prime omega. He knew what happened to prime omega's. They served as a trophy. To show the world that a prime omega thought that your pack was worth joining. And that said something. That's the exact reason he hid his prime omega status. Being a prime omega was incredibly rare and it shows in power that having a prime omega in your pack is elite. It shows that a prime omega found your pack worthy. He couldn't let that happen. He would rather die than he some stupid sheltered trophy. So the only choice he had was acting like a beta.
His wanted poster said that he was a beta, his scent smelled like beta, everything about him screamed beta.
The Whitebeards didn't have a prime omega yet. If they found out, would they force him to join? To boost their reputation or for him to be some kind of house wife. Would they lock him up and never let him do a thing? No more fighting. No more adventures. No more freedom.
He knew that the crew had other normal omega's. This place sometimes looked like omega heaven. There is a cuddling place for omega's for when they wanted to cuddle. There was a nesting place and there was one big nest. The crew was always in stock on suppressants. It always looked like the Whitebeards treated their omega's like equals. It made him incredibly envious just looking at it. But would they treat a prime omega the same?
He also didn't have the materials to make one. His pack was on another boat. He only had his own clothes. You couldn't make a nest out of your own clothes. He could steal some, but he wouldn't. He completely rejected the idea of making a nest out of enemy clothes. There was a chance that they would notice it.
So no matter how much his body was hurting from defying his instincts and no matter what kind of negative side effects it may have, he couldn't make a nest. He had to fight against it with everything he got.
Oh god, another thing was that he almost hadn't touched anyone in these last two months, much less cuddled. His friends were not here. His prime omega was very very touch-starved. So much that he knew when someone would touch him for longer than a few seconds he wouldn't even be able hold back. The moment someone would lay a hand on him he would snap.
He cursed the prime omega within him. He never wished to be one in the first place. But no, his father was a prime alpha and his mother a prime omega. There was no way he wouldn't be a prime, but he could at least been an alpha.
Now he just needed to assassinate the old fucker. He knew by now that he couldn't kill him. It had become more and more because of the second of contact between him and Whitebeard than the actual assassination.
Being a prime omega may have many ups, but hell, it also made the down much worse. Normal omega's could a without a nest and touching for at least half a year, while prime omega's could go without that for a month before the side-effects kicked in.
He hated it. Every piece of clothing looked appealing to use for a nest, every person looked perfect for cuddling, everything was setting his instincts more and more on edge. Begging Ace to let go. He was desperate.
To make it worse, his suppressants were almost empty and he was almost out of scent blockers, the heavy ones. He hadn't been able to go to a shop on the island to buy new ones. The Whitebeards didn't allow him to wonder off alone off the ship. And even if they did, he would have been to paranoid to get them.
He didn't know what to do. At this rate he'll be discovered.
It just hurt so much. A few stray tears escaped his eyes. He dug his nails into his sides. They began to bleed in seconds. The blood was dripping down his hips on to the bed, it was staining his shirt and shorts.
Don't think about it.
.
You are stronger than this
.
Don't think about it.
.
They'll lock you up.
.
Don't think about it.
.
You need to be strong.
.
Don't you fucking think about it.
He needed to build a nest. NO! He dug his nails deeper into his sides. More blood came out.
Stop it. They might force him to go to the infirmary.
He couldn't help it. Pain was now the only thing powerful enough to keep his mind and instincts at bay. If harming himself would keep him from losing control, than so be it. But...
He also needed a new shirt. Fuck. The Whitebeards would question it. He was sure they would.
Everything hurt so much. He was getting more and more antsy. He couldn't even sleep normally anymore. His body was constant at high alert.
It was getting worse and worse. He had heard stories of omega's when they neglected their instincts. Some would go crazy others killed themself there were even cases of omega's going completely blank. Their body still functioning, but their mind had just shut down.
He knew the signs and knew that he was displaying them.
He need to get of the ship. It didn't matter where, as long as he was safe. Safe enough to nest. Good enough to find someone who would cuddle his touch-starvation away. He needed to find Deuce or Saber or Skull or Kotatsu. He wished and wished and wished for the other ship to be here. Just so he could be with them. But they weren't. He had overheard that they were all on the Moby 2 and that the ship was over two weeks from here.
Even though he knew this, there was still a little voice in the back of his mind belittling him. He had a pack. Why weren't they here? Was he not good enough? Did they decide they liked the Whitebeards better than him? Did they discover his heritage and hate him? He knew he was thinking irrational, but he couldn't help it.
He knew he couldn't do it. He knew was the delaying the inevitable. He was going to snap before that. If he could just-NO! NO! NO! NO!
NO NEST!
Calm down. He just needs to calm down. Think rationally. What would Sabo do? He would yell at his stupid ass for getting in this situation in the first place. More tears were gathering in his eyes. Stupid omega making him more emotional. Stupid Sabo for being dead.
He couldn't die or snap, not if he didn't know that he would make it out alive. He had promised it to Luffy after all. So that one was out of the question.
There had to be some place on the Moby were nobody went. He just hadn't found it. Yeah. He just needed to look better.
It sounded like the only option. Make a nest in a place no one would go. Only go to the nest when really needed. Make it out of clothes that nobody would miss, the teared up clothes. Lay in it and pretend that someone is next to him, whispering words of comfort while running their hands through his hair and rubbing their hand calmly over his back. Someone he could bury his head against and hold like no tomorrow for hours. Stop it. Don't think about it. Just make the damm nest Portgas.
So he did. He had searched the whole day, not pausing for assassinations or food or something else unimportant. That could come later. Now that his mind had accepted that he was going to build a nest on the Moby his instincts had taken over and canceled out all the other things that didn't have to do with nesting. Even though he didn't feel it, didn't mean that it wasn't there.
His instincts didn't care for food, sleep, toilet breaks, exhaustion or reputation. A nest. He needed a nest. Now. And he found a spot. Somewhere on the lower parts of the Moby. The room was dusty and smelled, but didn't smell of other people here. Absolutely none. That meant that there hasn't been someone here for quite a while. Perfect.
Soft things, with lots of scents on it. He needed clothes, but from who? He needed pillows, but from where? He couldn't take from the Whitebeards. Yet he didn't have another choice. Where would the ripped up clothes, pillows and blankets be? They wouldn't miss those.
He knew exactly where. Ace stole those from the sixteenths division.
Now to clean the room and make a nest. A small one for himself. Yes. Maybe a little bit to the right. The clothes there, the blanket over those two pillows and done.
It was honestly the worst nest he ever made, but to be fair he didn't have the best materials either. It also didn't smell comfortingly like his pack at all. These were clothes from a different pack. It was like betraying his own pack. He hoped that his pack would forgive him for this. He was just so nest-deprived and desperate. He could fix it up later. He would make it much better, prime omega worthy, but for now he just needed to lay safe in his nest.
This is where Ace spend his next three days. Safe. He didn't go out for assassinations. He did steal some food and drinks and went on bathroom breaks, but that was it. He also didn't take his scent-blockers. He needed to make sure everyone would know that this was his spot. His and his alone. Everyone else could fuck off.
After those three days things went relatively back to normal. He was still very much touch-starved, but the nesting urge was gone. A pillow didn't do as much as company as he had hope for.
The Whitebeards had been worried. He was gone for four days. His presence hadn't even been traceable with haki. The only sign they had that he was still alive was the food that disappeared. The worry that had rested on everyone's shoulders vanished, when he had appeared again. He made up for it by doing three assassinations attempts a day for a whole week. Silently indulging his touch-starvation.
Everything went well for that week. The only problem was that this touch starvation had become almost uncontrollable. He couldn't look at people anymore without his body automatically moving towards them to hug them. He had tackled Thatch accidentally one time when he past him. He couldn't help it. The man looked to open, happy and huggable. He had quickly realized what he just had done. He got off and ran away.
He hadn't come out off his nest since. He knew that he was going to jump the next person he saw and he knew that he would not be able to let go if he did. He would be found out.
So he locked himself away again. He had been here for four days. Everything was numb. Just numb, but on fire at the same time. It was like he was drowning. It hurt. It hurt so bad. He just wanted someone here, but he was too tired to move. He was so done with everything. He had already accepted he was going to be a broken omega. When was the last time he ate or drank? His eyes sight was so fuzzy. He couldn't make things out at all. His body was littered in self inflicted wounds. Scratches, bite marks and bruises were all over the place just to make sure that his mind was distracted in the time where he was a hair away from losing control.
He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard footsteps approach. Was someone there? Please. Please help. Notice him. Please give him attention and love and effection. He is a good prime omega.
Please show him that he’s worth your time.
A soft whine escaped him. Lucky or unlucky for him the footsteps stopped and traced back to his room. Why did it cost to much energy to do that?
A soft knock was heard on the door. "Ace, are you in there-yoi?" It was Marco. Of all the people it had be him.
All his previous worries cam back to him at once.
Marco was here. He could discover he was a prime omega.
Marco was here. What if he opened the door and saw him and his nest in such a pathetic state? They were both filthy, covered in dried up blood, smelled and looked like hell.
Marco was here. If he would turn around and leave then Ace would break.
Marco was here...and he came in.
At least he thought so. He didn't really process what was happening anymore. But his somewhere deep inside, almost unnoticeable, his instincts said that there was someone nearby who could hold him. Someone who could help him.
Rough hands shook his shoulder a few times. Those same hands turned him on his back. He knew that Marco was probably speaking to him, but he didn't register a thing. He just wanted those hands wrapped around him.
He didn't know what or where, if he would have to guess than it would have been a last desperate attempt from his omega, but he got some energy. Enough energy to push himself up and enough to wrap himself completely against Marco.
His legs were around Marco's waist and his arms around his neck. His head was safely between his shoulder and neck. He was hanging on for dear life. He probably looked like a koala hanging on to a tree, but that didn't matter. Nothing did, except that Marco was here, in his arms.
God it felt so good. He felt to fucking relieved that tears were falling out of his eyes. He wasn't crying. His body didn't have the energy to do that. Now he just prayed to whatever god that was out there that Marco wouldn't push him away...or expose him.
Marco relaxed slowly and wrapped Ace in his arm in return. Marco did exactly what Ace had hoped for. He held him tightly while rubbing his hands comfortingly over his back. He whispered reassuring words in his ears and for the first time in fucking two and a half month, Ace felt really safe.