dirty minds think alike

Ace’s member slid up and down between your folds. His tip hit against your clit over and over. You could only whine and whimper in anticipation. Even with the suspense of what was about to happen, you were still so careful to look around and make sure the area was clear. Ace seemingly had forgotten all about the ‘public’ and ‘dangerous’ part of all this as soon as your outfit slid off your skin. His strong hands gripped on the flesh of your thighs like his life depended on it.

So funny how carried away he had gotten even with a little teasing. Was he hyperventilating? You were about to ask, but Ace knocked out any future words away with the way he roughly shoved his cock inside of you. A satisfied chuckle escaped his lips, almost like he was relieved. “Tell me if it’s too much… okay?” Ace murmured out in between breaths. “Mhm… okay…” You nodded without hesitation.

Ace’s hips rolled forward, gentle and slow, but just enough to make you moan without shame. His tip kissed your cervix with every shove and thrust. His pace started to pick up, for his sake. He wouldn’t be able to handle it if all he did was tease. Ace’s eyes didn’t know where his gaze should focus on. Your eyes, your lips, your tits, your thighs, your heat, it was all too much to handle. How’d he manage to pull such a sexy girl?

With a huff, Ace leaned forward and practically fell face first between your breasts. Cheeky bastard. You could careless about the awkward position, your attention was hogged by how good his cock felt inside of you. Slick covered every inch of his shaft. Your thighs tried to wrap around Ace’s waist, but his grip still stubbornly stayed on your legs. “F-Feels so good… too good…” Ace mumbled into your skin before his lips latched around your nipple. A shiver ran through your body as you let out a loud moan at the feeling.

Your hands shot up to his shoulders, your nails digging and scrapping into his skin. The rough treatment only made Ace moan along with you. His noises muffled and vibrated against your skin, along with the feeling of his hips now rapidly thrusting into you. The sensation of your tight walls trying to adjust with every shove almost burned, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel so good. “Fuck- I think I’m gonna-” You tried to speak up in between your lustful moans. You could only let out such little words.

“Do it,” Ace spoke up, leaning away from your breasts to focus his gaze on your blissed out expression. His hand came up to hold yours, your fingers woven with his. “Please…?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at his sudden ‘manners’, but you would obey nonetheless. The sticky mess of your slick mixed with his precum only seemed to become more noticeable the more he thrusted into you. You could feel his body heat up like a furnace along with yours. You could feel the knot in your stomach start to come undone.

Such a burning passion, such a satisfying sense of relief. It was so close. You could feel it. Ace could see it. Your eyes rolling back along with your parted swollen lips that only continued to allow moans to get past. Ace swore he could cum right then and there, but he wouldn’t. He knew better than to leave you unsatisfied. Your nails scraped at his back, leaving more and more marks that would soon prove he was yours.

Ace groaned, brushing the messy wet locks of raven colored hair out of his face, his hat set aside as he stared up at the sky, body covered in water. You two somehow managed to end up inside of a lake after falling down a waterfall, soaking both of you entirely, and now you were sitting by a bonfire Ace started himself after you had so graciously pulled the man who began to rapidly sink out of the water.

Ace was... Well, both of you were completely naked. He had zero issue with nudity around you, and that was because, well, he had a habit of not telling anybody he was gonna shower before entering the bathroom, leading to you getting an eyeful one too many times. It wasn't like you hadn't seen it before, and, besides, you two needed to dry off your clothes! But, your eyes kept flitting down towards the thick trail of hair that led down to your second favorite place on his body. Besides his face, obviously...

"Is there a... Problem?"

He raised his left eyebrow, giving you an amused look. He was crouched down in front of the fire, with zero cares in the world. I mean, you two had a tent and sleeping bags, food and water, and to your knowledge at least, there were no monstrously sized insects buzzing around... Yet. The sound of the waterfall rushing not that far away soothed you in an odd way, but it made you feel another way, too.

"Seriously, what's up with the stares?"

He chuckled dryly, crossing his arms over his toned chest. Was he stupid? You wouldn't answer that, you knew the answer. Slowly, your eyes raked down from his face, to his chest, down to his abs, once more to his... With an incredulous laugh, he followed your eyes, readying his jokes and silly banter so that your ears may be blessed again. His cock. You were staring at his cock... A surge of pride swelled through him, and you could tell, because you were looking right where it all manifested.

Eight inches of pure beauty. And it was just hanging right out in the open. Should you spread your legs, too, so he could get a nice view? Nevermind, you're fine just ogling him, don't wanna be too bold... Anyways, back to Ace, where were you again? Yes, that's right, your eyes trailed along the less visible vein that you could barely get a peek of on the underside of his shaft, down to his balls, he had a bit of a bush there, but fuck, it was hot... You always had the memory of his dick in the back of your head, heat creeping over your body when you peeked at his happy trail, bliss overtaking you... Thank whatever god which was blessing you, because this was a once in a lifetime opportunity—

"C'mere."

He waved you over with a jerk of his head, snapping you out of your trance. Shit, your mouth was hung open.

"I- Huh?" You let out a soft noise of confusion, looking straight at his face for once, and you should have known that sleazy grin was plastered on his face. He caught you, definitely, but why did he call you over? Wait— Was it happening? Was your wet dream finally realized?

"You can get a closer look. I can tell you've been looking for a while." He let out a breathy laugh after he spoke, his face scrunching up as he peered down between your legs, and it was evident that you were aroused, and at that very moment, he spoke again.

"I've been looking too, y'know."

"Fuck..."

"You wanna?"

the whitebeard pirates are used to unexpected visitors.

but shanks?

that’s a different kind of disturbance.

the second the red force docks nearby, the atmosphere shifts—laughter gets louder, tension sharpens, everyone suddenly pretending this isn’t a political disaster waiting to happen. whitebeard watches from the deck, amused, unimpressed, entirely unconcerned.

shanks hops aboard like he owns the place, a crate slung over one shoulder.

“new world’s cold,” he announces cheerfully, dropping it with a heavy thud. bottles clink inside. “so i brought booze.”

“you never change,” whitebeard snorts.

marco’s already there, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded. “what brings you here?”

shanks grins—easy, lazy, dangerous. “visiting an old friend.”

his gaze drifts across the deck.

then again.

then he frowns.

“…where’s the kid?”

marco blinks. “kid?”

“yeah,” shanks says. “the loud one. fire. freckles. trouble.”

realization hits.

“…ace?” marco asks slowly.

shanks’ grin widens. “that’s the one.”

marco hums. “last i saw him, he said he was… busy.”

“busy doing what?”

marco shrugs. “didn’t ask.”

shanks laughs. “fair enough.”

♡

ace’s cabin is quiet.

too quiet.

shanks stops outside the door, head tilting slightly.

there’s movement inside—muffled, rushed. the unmistakable sound of scrambling.

he knocks once.

silence.

he knocks again.

“…ace?”

inside, something thumps.

a very panicked whisper follows.

the door cracks open.

ace peers out.

he’s shirtless—like always—but his hair is completely wrecked. not wind-messed. hands-through-it messed. his skin is flushed, freckles stark against it, and there’s a faint mark along his collarbone that absolutely wasn’t there earlier.

shanks blinks.

slowly.

“…huh.”

ace freezes like a deer in headlights.

“i—this isn’t—this isn’t what it looks like—!”

behind him, the blanket shifts.

someone’s in there.

shanks’ gaze slides past ace, sharp and knowing.

then you speak.

“…you were supposed to tell me you were coming.”

everything stops.

shanks’ expression changes instantly.

surprise.

recognition.

then pure, unfiltered delight.

“…you’re kidding.”

you lean just enough into view for him to see you.

that resemblance—subtle, but undeniable—hits him square in the chest. the same eyes. the same presence. the same habit of disappearing under a different name, a different flag.

“…you little menace,” he laughs. “so this is where you ran off to.”

ace makes a sound somewhere between a squeak and a prayer.

“dad!” you hiss. “you can’t just show up like that!”

“where’s the fun in that?” he replies easily.

ace’s head snaps between you and shanks.

“…dad?”

you groan and immediately duck back under the blanket.

“don’t call him that.”

ace’s face goes nuclear.

he yanks the blanket over both of you and dives backward.

now there’s just a very suspicious ace-shaped lump on the bed.

shanks leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“…so,” he says casually, “you two busy?”

ace screams into the pillow.

“GET OUT.”

shanks laughs, raising his hands. “alright, alright. i’ll spare you.”

he turns to leave, then pauses.

glances back at the bed.

“…good taste,” he adds lightly.

the door shuts.

inside the cabin, ace dies.

♡

on deck, marco looks up as shanks returns alone.

“…found him?”

shanks grabs a bottle from the crate. “yep.”

“and?”

“occupied.”

marco narrows his eyes. “with…?”

shanks takes a drink. “company.”

marco opens his mouth.

closes it.

“…oh.”

around them, the whitebeard pirates are staring.

someone whispers, “was that—”

whitebeard throws his head back, laughing. “GURARARA! SO THAT’S YOURS?”

shanks grins. “always has been.”

on the other ship, his crew is losing their minds.

“CAPTAIN—”

“WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL US?”

“ACE?!”

shanks just lifts his bottle. “kid’s full of surprises.”

♡

deep in the ship, ace has buried his face in the blanket.

“…i’m never leaving this room.”

you pat his shoulder. “you’ll survive.”

“…your dad saw everything.”

you pause.

“…not everything.”

ace groans louder.

outside, laughter echoes through the ship.

and shanks?

shanks has never been more entertained in his life.

you met ace before you even knew how to be careful with your heart.

he was fire incarnate—chaotic, reckless, alive in a way that made it feel like the world itself had tilted just to let him in. shirtless, freckles scattered across his cheeks like constellations, laughter spilling from him and around him as if cruelty had never touched this world.

you remember thinking, “this man is going to ruin me.”

you were right.

ace loved like he lived—recklessly, openly, without a single thought for what might be taken away. he held you like tomorrow was guaranteed. like death was a myth meant for other people.

and you followed him anyway.

you followed him into danger, into chaos, into a love that burned so bright it felt immortal. he called you his anchor, joked that no matter how far he drifted, you’d always pull him back.

and you believed him.

and then marineford happened.

anchors don’t matter when the sea decides to swallow everything whole.

♡

grief doesn’t come all at once.

at first, it’s numbness. a fog so thick that you can barely remember what it felt like to be touched by him. then comes rage—at the world, at fate, at ace himself for being brave enough to die.

after that comes the worst part.

the searching.

you don’t mean to do it. you swear you don’t. but everywhere you go, you’re looking for him. for the way he used to tilt his head when he listened. for that crooked grin. for the warmth that made everything feel survivable.

you walk through a port and swear you see him leaning against a wall—only to blink and realize it’s just someone with dark hair and a familiar posture.

you hear laughter behind you, spin too fast, and your heart leaps—only to drop as reality hits.

every time, it hits harder.

they can have pieces of ace—but it will never be whole.

you try to move on because people expect you to. because the world doesn’t stop just because yours did.

you let people take you out. let them hold your hand. let them kiss you.

none of it works.

they’re always close—so close it almost feels cruel—but never right. something inside you recoils whenever they touch the wrong places, the wrong ways. whenever they don’t feel like fire.

eventually, they notice.

eventually, they leave.

♡

you hear about the mera mera no mi in dressrosa, and it feels like the universe twisting the knife all over again.

ace’s devil fruit. being paraded around like a prize.

you don’t hesitate.

of course you go.

of course you enter the colosseum.

if there’s even the slightest chance to reclaim something that belonged to him, you’ll bleed for it. you don’t care if it’s irrational. you don’t care if it hurts.

the colosseum was chaos—shouts, sand kicked up in clouds, fists colliding. every cheer made your chest tighten. you weren’t here for the crowd, weren’t here for the fights. you were here for a piece of him—a fragment of your ace.

you pushed through the fighters, hands pressed to your chest as if holding yourself together could keep the ache from spilling out. it wasn’t pain in your body—it was deeper, inside you, gnawing at your bones.

then, you saw it. fire. sudden, bright, impossibly alive.

the same fire that had once ignited the flames in your heart.

but it wasn’t ace. it could never be ace. his dark hair, that familiar shadow across his face, was gone—replaced by something lighter, softer. not his voice, not his shape. this wasn’t him.

but the fire… that impossible light, that reckless, consuming heat—it mirrored everything you had lost.

♡

days after the colosseum fight, the roar of the crowd still echoed faintly in your mind, but the streets of dressrosa had calmed. your chest throbbed from the fire you had seen—the impossible, haunting blaze—but at least now you were out of the chaos. you needed air. you needed to think.

the tavern was dim and warm, heavy with the scent of roasted meat and ale. it was crowded, but not suffocating. you slipped inside, looking for a corner, hoping to collect yourself. that’s when you saw him.

he was… eating. really eating. plates stacked high, hands moving almost too fast, shoveling food in with a hunger that made your stomach ache and twist all at once. messy, greedy, alive—it was like him. like your ace.

he caught your gaze, and for a moment, his eyes softened. he gestured to the empty seat beside him, and without a word, you slid in.

“you’re not from around here,” he said, voice calm, careful even, but with an edge you couldn’t ignore.

“something like that,” you murmured, still watching his hands, still captivated by the reckless, yet controlled way he moved.

he smiled, small, quiet, and the world around you seemed to slow. “i like to eat,” he said simply, as if that explained everything about him, as if it should.

for the first time since marineford, you laughed. not because it was funny, but because it was familiar. reckless. full. alive.

“i can see that.”

♡

days had turned to weeks, and weeks had turned to months. finding a new purpose was never easy—but sabo was here now. the revolutionary was there.

the days with him stretched out slowly, beautifully. shared meals, long walks across the deck, quiet conversations under the stars. every laugh, every touch, every glance carried his ghost—traces of ace intertwined with sabo’s own warmth, and somehow it was enough to make your chest ache all over again.

but tonight, sabo was too close. too close in a way that only ace had ever been.

the cabin was dim, the lantern casting soft, warm shadows. the ship rocked gently beneath you, and the scent of sabo was everywhere. familiar. comforting. like ace.

he kissed you like he could memorize every inch of your skin, soft and slow at first, then a little hungrier as the warmth between you built. every word, every murmur against your skin, carried care, reverence, and the ache of someone who knew what it meant to love someone gone.

his lips found the inner part of your thighs, and it felt good. too good. your mouth betrayed you, and it slipped.

“ace…”

he froze, tilting his head to meet your gaze. regret and surprise washed over your face, but his eyes—his eyes—weren’t angry. not disappointed. just soft, a little sad, and full of something stronger than words.

and then he smiled. that familiar, grounding smile, the one that made you feel safe in the midst of longing and loss.

“you can call me anything you want.”

♡

the cabin was quiet, but the silence pressed against you both, heavy with every fragment of her he could sense in his arms—every shiver, every tremble, every hesitant breath. he held you like letting go even slightly would mean losing you to the same world that had stolen ace.

“i know,” he whispers, forehead resting against yours, breath soft and steady. “and it’s okay… i’m okay with it.”

then, quieter, rawer, as if each word costs him:

“if that’s who you see when you look at me… i won’t stop you.”

your chest twists, heart squeezing.

“sabo—”

he shakes his head gently, a small, haunted smile tugging at his lips—the same one ace used to wear when he gave something up without complaint.

“i know i’m second,” he says softly, almost a confession. “i’ve always known.”

then, even softer, closer, letting it seep between you:

“but let me love you anyway.”

not because you had chosen him first.

but because you had stayed.

because love doesn’t always win—sometimes it waits.

and sabo does.

every time.

because holding any piece of you was better than holding nothing at all.