Ace x Fem!reader | Drunk in love
SUMMARY . . . In which ace got drunk, again, and ask for a kiss you absolutely can't say no too, what will be the consequence tomorrow when he will ask you if this kiss did happen ?
WARNING . . . Fluff, Alcohol consumption, Emotional vulnerability, Intense romantic tension, Physical intimacy ( suggestive but no SMUT ), Making out, moaning and whining ace ??, Angst, Fear of feeling, Strong language, Flirty Ace ig, Lot of kissing and touching... hurt/comfort,
Another party was being held by the Whitebeard Pirates. It wasn’t anything new, really, but it was still fun. You never drank too much. The most you’ve ever gotten during a party is a little tipsy since you weren’t about getting blackout drunk every chance you got. Some of the other people on the crew? You weren’t so sure.
Like Ace, who threw back another beer, a drunken flush clear on his face. You sipped on your own drink as you watched him party. Unexpectedly, he staggered over to you, trapping you against the wall with a hiccup leaving him. His eyes bored into yours and he stared you down, his gaze flickering to your lips.
“We should kiss,” Ace slurred out as he leaned in closer, his breath tickling your face as he pressed himself against you. It was becoming increasingly obvious how drunk he was based on his lack of coordination and the way he kept stumbling into you.
He brought a hand up, thumb lightly brushing against your bottom lip, a lopsided grin on his face.
“You didn’t heard me? Kiss me, dumbass.” He whispered.
”Your drunk…” You frown slightly, eyes flicking to his unfocused gaze, your voice softer than your words suggest. “You can barely stand straight, Ace. Look at you.”
Ace chuckled, his arm snaking around your waist in an intimate hold, pulling you closer. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of him as he leaned in again, the scent of booze on his breath.
“Yeah, I am. What about it?” He smirked, his fingers tracing a slow, teasing path along your jaw to your chin, lifting it up to look at him. “Doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want. And right now, that thing I want is a kiss from you, smartass.”
Your hands press lightly against his chest, more hesitant than forceful. “Tomorrow you’ll wake up with a headache and zero memory of this.”
Ace stumbled back, clearly a little stunned by the push. His expression was a mix of annoyance and disappointment, but he recovered quickly. He tried to take a step forward to get closer to you again, but stumbled, one hand going out to catch himself on the wall by your head. He looked just about ready to pout.
“I will too remember it. I’m not that drunk. Just… give me a kiss. Pretty please..?” His voice took on a more pleading tone as he batted his eyelashes at you, trying his best puppy-dog eyes despite his flushed face.
”Ace… it’s not good to play with someone’s feelings..” Your voice drops, serious now, brows knitting together. “I certainly don’t want this to be something you laugh about later.”
Ace groaned in response, dropping the puppy-dog eyes, which were failing anyways from his level of intoxication. He swayed on his feet, grabbing your shoulder for support, the hand on the wall by your head coming up to grip your hip instead.
“Come on… I’m not playing with anything. I… I care about you, y’know… Why won’t you just kiss me goddamnit..?” He huffed out, sounding almost frustrated that you weren’t giving into his drunken advances.
you sigh before taking his face in your hands that is shaking.Your thumbs brush his cheeks, grounding him, your touch gentle despite your hesitation.
Ace looked slightly surprised by your action, but he leaned into your touch almost instinctively, his gaze glued to you like he couldn’t look anywhere else. The usual cocky and confident air around him had lessened slightly, his expression instead softened as you held his face in your hands.
He didn’t speak as he waited for what you were going to do next. It was almost as though you had him under your spell. He wasn’t usually this quiet and pliant after all.
Ace froze in place, his eyes widening momentarily before slowly fluttering shut as your lips pressed against his. A barely suppressed shiver ran down his spine, his grip on your hip tightening almost possessively as he leaned into the kiss more, returning it without hesitation.
He kissed you with an almost desperate passion, his other hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck and tilt your head for a better angle. He let out a soft moan against your mouth, his drunken mind now hyper-fixated on the feeling of your lips on his.
Ace whined as you pushed him away, the sound almost needy. His eyes opened once more, and he gave you a pleading look, his cheeks flushed and his hair slightly disheveled.
“Why’d you pull away..?” He mumbled, using his grip on your hip to try and yank you closer again.
You press a hand to his chest again, steady but firm. “That’s it, Ace. One kiss. You’re done.”
Ace whined again. He seemed to be getting more and more clingy in his drunkenness. He pouted at you, trying his best to give you those puppy-dog eyes again, despite them failing miserably.
“But I’m not done. I want more from you. Not just one kiss. More.. please. I need it..” He slurred out, his grip on you refusing to loosen as he nuzzled his face against the crook of your neck, his breathing hot against your skin.
You hesitate, then sigh, already knowing you’ve lost. “One more. That’s it. Promise.”
Ace let out a quiet, triumphant hum at your words like he’d just won a battle. He didn’t wait long before surging forward, capturing your lips again in a messier, hungrier kiss this time. His hands gripped you tighter, like he was trying to memorize every inch of you.
When he finally pulled back breathless and grinning he rested his forehead against yours, his voice rough and low.
“Last one… yeah right. I’m holdin’ you to that promise tomorrow too.” Then his eyes started drooping…”
Suddenly his body went slack.
He fell asleep standing up—and faceplants straight into your shoulder with a soft snore.
Marco then pass by, you shift Ace’s weight awkwardly, panic creeping into your voice. “Marco—please….he’s dead weight.”
“Tch. Again?” Marco sighed, raising an eyebrow as he strolled over, arms crossed. He took one look at Ace, dead weight against you, snoring like a furnace and shook his head with a small smirk.
“This is the third time this week, yoi. You’d think he’d learn not to drink on an empty stomach.”
He easily slung Ace’s arm over his shoulder, lifting him up with little effort. Ace mumbled something incoherent, something that sounded suspiciously like “…kiss me again…” before nuzzling into Marco’s shoulder like a sleepy kid.
“C’mon,” Marco said softly, “Let’s get this idiot to bed before he sets the ship on fire… literally.”
With both you and Marco assisting, the task isn’t too difficult. Ace is practically limp and useless as you support his weight. Together, you manage to maneuver him to his bed, carefully setting him down on the sheets.
He immediately curls up, burying his face into the pillow. He lets out a soft, sleepy snort, already looking like he’s going to be out for the night. Marco watches Ace fondly for a moment before speaking up.
”… You’re too soft on him, yoi. Spoil him too much.”
You glance at Ace, already fast asleep, his brows relaxed, his grip still faintly clinging to the blanket like a child. You don’t answer Marco, your silence says enough.
Together, you and Marco make your way through the ship, helping out other members of the crew who are in various states of drunkenness. Some are stumbling, some are singing loudly, and a few are even dancing - clearly enjoying themselves with the night’s festivities.
The next morning brought a rare silence across the Whitebeard ship, no shouting, no music, just groans and muffled curses. Sunlight sliced through the windows like punishment. Most of the crew were either nursing headaches or passed out in awkward places.
You were helping hand out water and medicine when Ace finally emerged, shirt untucked, hair wilder than usual, eyes half-lidded with pain. He held a hand to his head as if it might explode at any second.
“…Ugh. Hey.” His voice was rough, guilty even.
“…Did I… kiss you last night?”
Your hands freeze mid-motion, medicine bottle rattling slightly as you turn toward him. “W-why would you even think that?”
Ace grimaces, clearly feeling the full effects of his hangover. He sits down heavily on a nearby chair, running a hand through his tousled hair. He glances up at you, looking almost sheepish.
“I… don’t really remember much of last night. My head feels like it’s being split open, y’know? But… some things are coming back to me…”
He hesitates for a moment, then looks at you directly, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and confusion.
“…I remember kissing you.”
You busy your hands on purpose, placing cups and bottles down with more force than necessary.
“Yeah. Just… a stupid dream. That’s all.”
“Tch. Don’t give me that.”
Ace pushes himself up from the chair, ignoring the wave of dizziness that hits him. He takes a shaky step forward, his voice rough but firm.
“I know what I felt. And I know I wasn’t dreaming.”
He reaches out, just barely catching your sleeve, not pulling, just holding on like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “Even if my head’s wrecked… my heart remembers.”
You gently but firmly guide him back into the chair giving him medicine, avoiding his eyes.
“Please, Ace. Just… take it. You’re not thinking straight.”
“No. Don’t.” Ace slams the medicine back onto the table, hands trembling. He stares at you, eyes blazing with something fierce, not anger, but raw stubbornness. The same fire that keeps him standing after getting punched through walls.
“You think I don’t know what happened? You think I’d make up something like that in a drunken haze?” He grabs your wrist gently but firmly and pulls it to his chest. You can feel his heartbeat pounding against your palm.
“Even if my damn brain won’t show me… my body does. My heart does.” His voice drops, rough and quiet”
“…Why are you pretending it didn’t happen? Were you drunk too? Or are you just scared?”
I put my hand infront of his mouth my palm presses lightly against his lips, eyes darting toward the rest of the crew. “Lower your voice. Please. This isn’t the time.”
Ace goes silent, eyes narrowing as you place your hand over his mouth. He looks like he wants to argue, to yell, to prove his point… but your words make him pause.
He glances over to the other crew members, all of them nursing hangovers in various painful ways, and his shoulders slump a bit.
“Fine,” he mutters against your hand, his breath tickling your skin. He lets go of your wrist, leaning back against the chair.
“But we’re continuing this later, y’hear?”
Ace watches you walk away, irritation clear on his face. He slouches lower in his chair, arms crossing over his chest.
‘Damn it.’ He thinks to himself, his eyes glued to you as you tend to the crew. ‘She’s avoiding me.’
He continues to brood silently, but never once takes his gaze off you.
As hours pass, Ace remains in his chair, watching you work. He looks like he wants to speak every time you pass by, but something keeps him quiet. Perhaps a mixture of his hungover state and your stubborn avoidance.
The afternoon sun eventually starts to dip lower, casting shadows on the deck. The once lively ship is now quiet, everyone starting to recover from the previous night’s festivities.
Ace is still sitting there. Still waiting. Still watching you with that intense, almost desperate gaze.
You finally let yourself rest, shoulders slumping as the tension catches up to you. Your feet ache, your head hurts, and you can feel Ace’s stare even without looking.
Marco approaches you as you finally sit down, offering a sympathetic frown. He leans against the wall, eyeing you with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
“You’ve been avoiding that idiot all day,” he observes, nodding towards Ace, who is still sitting in the same spot. “You know he’s not gonna let this go, yoi.”
“You’re exhausting yourself too..” Marco pushes off the wall and crouches beside you, voice dropping. “He’s hurting —did you see how he’s been staring at you? Like a kicked puppy who burned his own house down trying to stay warm?”
He glances at Ace, then back at you.
“Just get up and talk to him. Even if it’s hard. Especially if it’s hard.”
Suddenly—Ace stands up, swaying slightly but determined. He takes one step toward you… then another.
Marco sighs. ”…Or wait here and let the stubborn idiot come to you.”
Before you can respond, Ace appears in front of you, looking more determined than ever. His headache seems forgotten for the moment, replaced with something more singular in mind.
“We need to talk,” he says gruffly, not giving you a chance to protest as he takes your wrist and begins pulling you away to somewhere private.
Your feet plant themselves firmly against the deck, panic flashing through your eyes as you look at Marco. “Marco—please—.”
Marco catches your gaze and nods silently in understanding. He can clearly see how tense you are as Ace grips your wrist with a subtle smirk, he steps forward, placing a firm hand on Ace’s shoulder.
“Let her go, yoi,” he says coolly, his grip on Ace’s shoulder like a vice. “She’s busy.”
Ace bristles at the words, his eyes flickering between you and Marco with barely-restrained frustration.
“Bullshit.” he huffs, trying to push Marco’s hand off his shoulder, but the other man doesn’t budge an inch. Ace glares at you. “Like hell you are. You’re just running away again.”
Marco tightens his grip, his expression hardening.
“You’re acting like a child, yoi. She’s busy. Go sleep off your hangover so you can think straight.”
Ace grits his teeth, his jaw clenching tightly. He knows Marco’s right…he feels like hell, and his head is still killing him. But that stubborn, bullheaded attitude of his just won’t let him back down so easily.
“I don’t give a damn,” he snaps, struggling against Marco’s grip once more. “I want to talk to HER, not you!”
Your voice comes out sharper than you intend as you step between them. “Enough. Both of you.”
Your fingers wrap around Ace’s wrist, steady but not rough.
Ace’s eyes widen as you take his wrist away from Marco’s shoulder, his gaze snapping to you.
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” he growls, but there’s a hint of vulnerability underneath the gruffness like a wounded animal trying to act tough even as it bleeds.
Marco watches this moment with interest, crossing his arms over his chest as he silently observes the interaction between the two of you.
Marco sees the desperation in your eyes—and sighs, finally stepping back with raised hands.
“Fine. But if things go up in flames, yoi… don’t come crying to me.”
He gives Ace one last warning look before turning away, leaving the two of you alone on the deck. The air suddenly feels heavier, charged with everything left unsaid.
Ace stares at you, his chest rising and falling fast. His voice drops raw, quiet. “…Why are you running from me?”
Your voice cracks just slightly as you watch Marco disappear below deck. “Great. Just great.”
Marco is long gone, disappearing below deck, leaving you alone with the very determined, very hungover, very emotional idiot.
Ace turns to you, his eyes blazing. There’s frustration there, and confusion, and a hint of… hurt? “Answer me,” he says. “Why are you avoiding me?”
You cross your arms defensively, exhaustion bleeding into your tone. “I’ve been on my feet all day. People needed help. That’s all this is.”
Ace scoffs, stepping closer until he’s right in front of you. His voice drops low, rough with something deeper than anger, almost like pain.
“Busy? Really?” He glances around the deck—quiet now, crew all settled. No chaos. No emergencies. “You weren’t busy helping anyone else when I walked up. But the second I come near you? Suddenly you’ve got places to be?”
He shakes his head, eyes boring into yours.
“Don’t lie to me… especially not about this.”
Ace leans in, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him—his voice dropping to a low, raw whisper. “I want to know why you kissed me back.”
He searches your face, jaw tight.
“If it meant nothing… you wouldn’t have done it. And I sure as hell wouldn’t still feel it right here.”
He grabs your hand and slams it over his chest right where his heart is pounding hard against his ribs. “So don’t tell me ‘nothing happened,’ when my whole damn body’s screaming that it did.”
Ace’s smirk widens a fraction at the sight of you looking away, his eyes never leaving your face. He takes another step forward, closing the distance completely between the two of you.
”I’ve spent the past day going mad trying to figure out what the hell happened between us… and now you won’t even look me in the eye.”
He cups your chin gently, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.
Your voice comes out sharper than you mean, breath hitching as your fingers curl against his chest. “Please—don’t do this. Not like this.”
Ace huffs out a frustrated noise, grip on your chin tightening gently. He’s not gonna let you shut him out now. Not after he’s finally found the right levers to pull.
“No,” he says simply, his voice firm. “Not till you stop pretending it didn’t happen. Not till you admit you felt what I did.”
His other hand slides around your waist, pulling you flush against him, making sure you can’t look away.
“Look at me, damn it.” He murmurs. “Let me see your eyes.”
The moment your eyes meet his, the air between you stills.
Ace’s breath hitches—just slightly. His grip on you softens, like he suddenly remembers how fragile people can be. He searches your eyes, not with fire this time, but something quieter. Something raw.
…He sees it all…your fear, your longing, the way your heart’s betraying you in real time.
“There you are,” he whispers.
His thumb brushes your cheekbone gently.
“You don’t have to say anything. I already know.”
And then the stupid idiot smiles. Not a smirk or a cocky grin… but something warm. Real.
Like he finally won a battle worth fighting for.
Ace gently pulls you into his chest, arms wrapping loosely around you, chin atop your head. He holds you close, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back as his heart still pounds against your cheek. His other hand comes up, threading through your hair.
“Your heart’s still beating fast,” he mutters, voice rough-like he can’t believe you’re actually letting him hold you like this. He presses a soft kiss on the top of your head. “Still think it was nothing…?”
Your voice is barely there, muffled against his chest. “I can feel it. You’re not exactly calm either.”
Ace lets out a low, rumbling chuckle, warm and surprised against your hair.
“Yeah… well.” He tightens his hold just a little, voice dropping to something almost shy. “Guess you always did have that effect on me. Even when I’m trying not to feel it.”
He pulls back just enough to look down at you, eyes soft but intense all at once.
“So stop running, y’hear? ‘Cause I ain’t lettin’ go again. Not this time.”
A small grin tugs at his lips—one of those rare, genuine ones that makes your stomach flip.
“And next time… I’ll make sure I’m sober enough to remember every damn second.”
As you sit together in the quiet of the deck, Ace finally just… breathes. The tension seeps out of him as he holds you, his shoulders relaxed for the first time in days. He tucks his head against the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of you.
”…You’re shaking,” he observes after a few moments. He sounds concerned now, the teasing gone from his voice. His fingers skim along the small of your back in a soothing gesture.
“You… okay?” he asks quietly.
Your voice trembles despite yourself, fingers clutching lightly at his shirt. “Why me, Ace…why kissing me..?”
Ace pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression softening. He studies your face for a moment before speaking.
“Because I wanted to,” he says simply, voice quiet but sure. “Because every time you’re near me… my chest gets tight. Like I’m standing too close to a flame—but I don’t wanna move away.”
He brushes a thumb across your cheek, his freckled nose twitching in that way it does when he’s trying not to smile too big.
“And because… I kept thinking about how you always take care of me. Even when I’m being an idiot. Even when I pass out drunk and wake up with my head splitting open.”
His voice drops lower, almost shy.
“…I guess… I just wanted you to know it means something. That you mean something.”
“Do…Do you love me ?” The question slips out before you can stop it, quiet and fragile, like you’re afraid the answer might break you.
His eyes widen just slightly and for a moment, he looks like he’s been punched in the gut. The bravado, the fire, the cocky grin… all of it fades. What’s left is raw. Honest.
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulls you closer so close your breaths almost sync and rests his forehead against yours.
“You really gotta ask that?” His voice is rough, trembling just a little.
“I carry your name in my chest like a flame I can’t put out. I look for you first when I wake up… and last thing at night.”
“If that ain’t love… then I don’t know what the hell fire is.”
Ace’s eyes flutter close as your palms gently cradle his face, his breath hitching in his chest. His lips part in a soft exhale, his body going still as he soaks in the intimacy of the gesture. Without the alcohol, he’s completely present and every part of his body reacts to your touch, like it’s something he’s craved for a long, long time.
He leans into one of your palms, nuzzling gently, almost like he’s lost in a daze.
A small, shaky sound leaves Ace’s throat as you trace the line of his jaw, something between a whine and a sigh, like the contact is both blissful and torturous at the same time. He’s trying to keep his breathing steady, but the sharp inhale he takes betrays how desperate he is for your touch.
He doesn’t dare open his eyes. He just leans into you, pliant and trembling as the heat beneath his skin builds.
Ace makes a low, surprised sound when your lips meet but he melts instantly into the kiss. His arms snake around your waist like they’re meant to be there, pulling you close until there’s not an inch of space between you. He returns the kiss like it’s the easiest thing on earth and you swear the world just stops, everything fading away in this moment but the feel of his mouth against yours.
His kiss is… different now. Without the haze of alcohol in his veins, he’s present. Every touch, every sound, every part of him aches with a need.
Ace lets out a low, guttural noise that’s half a moan and half a growl against your mouth—the sound sending a shiver down your spine as he suddenly pulls you closer, his arms tightening around your waist in an almost possessive grip.
He is nipping at your upper lip as his tongue brushes yours hungrily. He kisses you like you’re the air he needs to breathe—like it’s taking all of his restraint not to devour you whole.
Ace lets out a shuddering exhale against your mouth, his chest tight as you kiss him back every time you parted away. He deepens the kiss again, one hand tangling in your hair as the other drops to your hip, holding you close like he might just lose you if he lets go.
He presses himself flush against you, his body taut with restraint like he’s fighting the urge to let himself go completely.
He finally breaks the kiss, only to bury his face against the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin as he speaks.
Your voice is soft, honest, fingers still resting against his jaw. “It feels different. Like you actually mean it… like you’re here with me.”
Ace lets out a low chuckle against your skin, breathless and amused. His lips skim along your neck, pressing soft, lazy kisses to every inch he can reach.
“You prefer sober me, huh?”
He nips softly at the pulse in your neck, a hand sliding from your hip to brush across your abdomen, like he’s mapping out your body with nothing but touch.
You finally say it without hesitation, lifting your head just enough to look at him. “Drunk or sober. Loud or quiet. Stupid or serious.”
A small smile tugs at your lips.
Ace stay stills. Then slowly he exhales, forehead dropping to yours again like the weight of your words finally hit him. His grip softens, but somehow holds you even closer.
”…Damn,” he murmurs, voice thick, almost overwhelmed.
“You really don’t know what you do to me, do you? You say that now. I might just keep you up all night give you plenty of opportunity to change your mind.”
Your voice is breathless but steady, fingers gripping his shirt as you look up at him. “Fuck.. give me any opportunity and I will still stay..”
Ace’s breath hitches in his chest at that a guttural, almost hungry sound rumbling deep in his throat. He leans back just enough to search your face, eyes dark and intense as he processes your words.
”…You really mean that?” he asks softly, voice gravelly, like he’s fighting his own instincts to just pull you off somewhere private and make this promise come true right this instant.
You nod without hesitation, forehead resting briefly against his. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”
Ace lets out a low, hungry noise as you kiss him again right after and climb onto his lap, hands automatically bracing at your hips. He kisses you back hard, tongue brushing yours with an urgent need that speaks louder than words.
One hand tangles in your hair and the other slides up your thigh, squeezing gently as he deepens the kiss, like he can’t decide if he wants to pull you closer or hold you still.
Your words slip out quietly, honest and vulnerable. “I need you there.. and now….”
A low, guttural sound rumbles in Ace’s chest. His hands grip your waist like he’s about to lose control and maybe he is.
He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes his own dark with hunger, but also something deeper… reverence.
“Not here,” he murmurs, voice trembling with restraint. “Not where anyone can walk in.”
With one smooth motion, he stands up lifting you effortlessly into his arms as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you toward the crew quarters without breaking eye contact.
“My room,” he growls softly. “Where I can take my time… and make sure every inch of you knows it’s me.”
And then. he kisses you again as he walks, like a man finally claiming what’s always been his.
Ace lowers you to the sheets carefully, settling on top of you with an easy grace his big frame caging you against the bed. He kisses you hungrily, the taste and heat of him searing on your lips as he starts to run his hands along your body like he can't get enough of you.
One hand brushes your hip, the other sliding up to cradle your face like he just needs to touch you anywhere he can while his mouth devours yours.
Ace lets out a low, ragged moan against your lips as you rock against him the sound so low and primal it sends shivers down your spine. He breaks away for the briefest moment, panting, before he starts kissing down your neck lips hot and impatient against your skin.
His hand slides down to the outside of your thigh, gripping almost possessively as he shifts just enough for you to feel the effect you're having on him.
"You really want that?" he murmurs after breaking the kiss, voice rough and dangerous. "You sure you can handle me… if I stop holding back?"
He leans down, teeth grazing your earlobe as his hands slide up under your clothes, heat blooming beneath his touch.
"I might burn you." He whisper…
”Burn me then..” you said...
The moment the words leave your lips, Ace makes a sound half groan, half vow as if he’s been waiting his whole life to hear you say that.
In one swift motion, he pins your wrists above your head with one hand while his other trails down your body, hot and possessive. His lips crash against yours with a hunger that borders on desperate, tongue claiming your mouth like he’s branding you from the inside out.
"You asked for it," he growls between kisses, "So don’t you dare pull away when I turn this ship into an inferno."
And then he starts to burn… slow and relentless… just for you.