#ace drabble

Nobody knows that while you’re at work, he’s constantly sending you filthy messages to get you aroused and worked up. Making you chew your lip and the tip of your pen as you twirl in your chair..reading how he’s going to make sure you feel it in your stomach the next time you two link. Nobody knows he shamelessly sends you nut videos, uttering your name with the sexiest moans. Nobody knows that when you tell your assistant that the hour where you refuse any meetings is designated for you to choke on ex-boyfriend!ace’s cock in your cute little business attire..loving the way those glasses hang off the tip of your nose as he pushes your forehead to his pelvis.

“Goddamn, babe..I knew I couldn’t quit you..you’re eating my dick up so good.”

“It’d taste even better if you let me come on it first.”

loving that you were willing to abandon all of your morals for him so easily. Nobody knows about the second phone you keep stashed away in your glovebox just to call him late at night when your new man is sleeping or working overnight and you want some company..

“Can you please come over? I miss you..he won’t be back tonight. I promise.”

“Of course, baby. Anything for you..I’ll always come running when you tell me.”

or in need of a good orgasm because that dummy couldn’t give you one if you handed him a roadmap to the clit! With ex-boyfriend!ace on the other line talking you through it with that deep voice and lewd commands.

“Oh my gosh, pretty girl. Did you call me just so you could touch yourself to the sound of my voice? You’re so cute..” making you FaceTime him because he wants to see the mess he helped create.

nobody knows that whilst you're out at dinner with your new man, alongside loved ones as he boasts about how he knows you’re the one and how you guys make such a lovely couple, (y/n) is daydreaming about ex-boyfriend!ace riding you on the back of his Suzuki through the city, knowing the rush gets you turned on. That rather than dealing with an insecure little boy who felt intimidated by your looks and success, ex-boyfriend!ace would go drinking and partying with you, loving when you showed off your body because he wasn't worried about another man taking what was his. Nobody knows that you have a small tattoo of ex-boyfriend!ace’s name right above your private area. Hell, it's not as if your new man touched you enough to notice and when he did, the lights remained off.

When your girlfriends are divulging the dirt about their relationships and how envious they are of you. Claiming that you hit the jackpot with such a structured, well mannered guy who works a high paying job and always comes home to you. But what nobody knows…is that he could never replace the man you truly love. So much so, when you kiss him on the cheek that Friday evening before heading to the ‘airport’ for another business trip..you’re secretly meeting ex-boyfriend!ace in the top floor suite at a luxury hotel hours away from home where you two go every month to fuck each other's brains out for three days straight. Akin to addicts who can’t be satisfied, you rabidly devour one another until your bodies quit.

“I’ve waited all week for this…I’m so not sorry for how I’m about to fuck you.” ”I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Wrapping his hands around your throat, shoving his tongue into your mouth as he corners you against a wall. Nobody knows that ex!boyfriend!ace has you face down on a mattress with your ass up in the air as his tongue explores both of your entrances. Practically seating you on his face to suction around that clit, flicking his tongue in and out of your tight cunt before prodding your asshole, leaving a sloppy trail of saliva on each of them. Because you wore that adorable little heart shaped plug to help prep you for the weekend.

“You taste so fucking good…especially when I know you’ll let me have it anytime I want.”

nobody knows that you’re somewhere gripping the sheets for dear life as ex-boyfriend!ace delivers the most insane backshots you’ve ever felt. Those perfectly round, thick cheeks ricocheting off of his lower half..the contrast in your skin and that pearlescent scream surrounding his shaft making the sight even better…ripping orgasms from your body with no shame because he deserves it. After all, you belong to him.

“That’s right..come on this dick, bitch. Give me what I want..” he still loves and respects you all the same. But ace knows you prefer rough, degrading sex far more than the mundane and vanilla. Especially when it was in short supply with your current situation. Even going as far as to place a foot on your head, tugging your arms behind your back so that he can really bury his cock inside of you.

“Yes! Keep fucking meeee, just like that, daddy. ‘S so good!”

“You love when I dig you out like this, treating you like a little slut..’swear this pussy’s going to get me in some serious trouble one day. But I don’t care, I love you.”

rambling on as he feels you twitching around him for the third time, leaving splatters of warm juices each time; squirting immensely from the constant stimulation to your spot.

“Damn, you’re coming so hard, pretty girl. Is he not fucking you right?” Laughing before he could even get the very rhetorical question from his mouth. Leaning down to place a trail of pecks and licks on your spine to console you before placing you into a prone position. ”Of course not..nobody knows this body better than me. Isn’t that right, gorgeous?” All but confirmed by the way you’re tightening around him..he can’t help but to grip your throat and steal sloppy kisses from you whilst he drills you into the mattress. “Nooo, babyyy. You’re the only one who can fuck me this good..oh my Goddd—“ placing his camera in your face so that he could have it for safekeeping..(and in case he gets wind of your man running his mouth about him again!) Making you call his name and scream it to the heavens. “Aceeee, fuck meeee..”

Nobody knows that you’ve been fucking for damn near an hour while your phone buzzes with missed calls and texts from your boyfriend and whatever little girl he’s deciding to entertain for the moment. As heinous as it was, you were just filling the void and you’d always find your way back to each other. Perhaps it was the thrill of sneaking around that kept this charade going. Either way, you weren’t giving each other for a long time and it’s so obvious why..no one else will do the freaky shit that you both crave so much.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you’re letting me fuck your ass again..feels amazing.” glaring up at him with the most adoring gaze in your eyes and smile on your face as you proudly hold a vibrator to your clit..allowing him to stretch that opposite opening. Practically coming on spot when you began to show your gratitude for this pleasure…

“Thank you, daddy..using all my holes like this. I love it so much.” That much apparent by the tears pouring down your face alongside that toothy grin. Only he could give it to you so good, you begin to cry!

“Oh shit..of course, gorgeous girl. I’d do anything for you..anything to see my baby smile.” Including pinning you down by your throat and letting trails of saliva drip into your mouth. Even feeding you a couple slaps when you all but pleaded with him to treat you like an object.

nobody knows that on the sparse occasions when you have sex with your current man, he’s forced to wear a condom because you’ve discussed several times that you don’t want children and you’re not taking any risks. But ex-boyfriend!ace gets the privilege of feeling that hard cock sliding in and out of you raw..and to breed you as many times as he can muster! Letting load after load spill into your aching womb. Filling every hole with that dripping seed.

“You look so pretty stuffed with my cum, sweetheart. Just how I like it.”

nobody knows why you left ex-boyfriend!ace in the first place but you knew why you’d always come running back!

Ace merely grins, sees himself flicker on the hues of fire on your cheek with the lamps dotted 'round the quiet Moby Dick and agrees, "sure do!"

He realised two days into your sudden stay that you're the pirate from Whitey Bay's crew that Izou was always talking to, had been providing general crew expansion updates for. He recognises your voice, the intonation that betrays your hailing from the east. Izou's doomed Ace though, talked enough about Ace that you've picked up an awful misconception that Ace was going to kill Whitebeard. It's not his fault— Ace considers himself a new man, a phoenix from the ashes of his multiple failed attempts to kill a dying man, but all you see is a squawking chicken running around headless.

Your brows furrow and you don't look fairly impressed. In fact, you are so unamused that it wins over your curiosity and suspicion of Ace, so your next move is to stretch out your foot and continue walking to where you were previously heading before Ace barged into you.

The flare warps, stretches out with the short toss of wind that your body kicks up when it passes him and follows after the shape of you— snaps away from the safety of his chest and then disperses like it'd never been his in the first place. Ace frowns after you, confused at best.

You're still around after that, dotted in between crew members that Ace hasn't quite gotten close to, joking around with the sterner division leaders who are always beating him up in guise of 'training', and scolding Whitebeard on behalf of your own captain. Ace doesn't exactly know why you're there, but it's easy to find you since Whitebeard's crew is namely full of men.

You talk a couple more times after that and Ace knows that you're still testing him, checking to see where his loyalties lie with every passing conversation.

Unfortunately, you don't seem to take to his charm like the Whitebeard pirates have so easily, who saw something endearing about him trying to kill their father— he remembers something about Dadan saying that women are so much better than men at detecting bullshit. That only serves to confuse Ace though, 'cause as far as he's concerned, he's accepted his role as Whitebeard's son.

He makes up his mind to ask you about it after a particularly stern staring contest that gave him indigestion, but you're gone the next day.

"She don't like me much." He stirs the spoon 'round the soup that he's left long enough for it to draw a film over the top. He's only musing to himself, speaking it aloud to see if it makes much sense— Ace thinks that it does, but he ain't too sure why he feels weird about it.

Haruta frowns at his cooling soup, judging him probably. "Why'd you think that?" The twist of his face only deepens when Ace uses his spoon to bring the clump of film up to his lips, eating it without care.

Ace looks at Haruta like he's stupid, the way the twelfth division leader is already looking at him, "did'ya not see the way she was looking at me?"

Haruta kicks Ace under the table, so hard that it rattles his bowl of soup— luckily, Ace manages to stabilise it in time and when he offers some look of betrayal at the man, Haruta's already looking at him weird. "Don't be mean; that's just her face. She's insecure about it."

That's the only thing that Ace really takes away from the conversation, that and the fact that Haruta is a liar; no woman glares like that unless she fully well means to do so. It was intentional.

Ace doesn't see you again until Marco has the scare of his life as Whitebeard has a bad reaction to some new medicine that he's administrated. It's lucky that Marco's devil fruit essentially makes him immortal, otherwise he'd have lost half the years of his own life taking care of Whitebeard's.

The closer of the fleets loiter around their father's ship, even as his stats come back to normal; unfortunately for Ace, Whitey Bay is one of those. That gives you an excuse to linger around odd corners, watching him like he's the reason that Whitebeard had taken his pills with alcohol (like he always does behind Marco's back) and that was— unsurprisingly— a horrible idea.

He's mature enough to ignore it, years with Luffy had nurtured him into the bigger person so he's pretty good at tolerating the weird stuff. That is, of course, until you accost him tucking himself back into his pants after a piss.

He'd like to say he's proficient with his devil fruit now— and not just as an excuse to get out of devil fruit mastery training with Marco— and moments where a sudden jerk or an unexpected scare makes him burst into flames have been scarce and far between, but you get it out of him. Manage to coax out that hypnic jerk, make the fire explode through the pyre laid beneath his chest first before swallowing whole up to his neck and he feels hot, but he knows it's not the fire but the embarrassment.

"What the hell are you doing—!"

"Oh," you blink, pinching off the fried crisps of your bangs, "it's hot."

Ace baulks, he feels like he's talking to Luffy about something that should be common sense. "Of course it's hot! It's fire!" He fumbles with the zipper of his shorts, turning his front away from your view, he remembers Luffy again for some reason— very specifically his stupid face with a finger up his nose— and then a dreadful realisation comes dawning upon him. "Is this the reason why you've been glaring at me?"

You seem almost upset by the accusation, "I haven't been glaring— plus, you're cold."

With his pants no longer at risk of dropping to his ankles, Ace finally spins back around to face you. "What?"

"You're cold, but you're made up of flames." You carefully explain to him— the way that Makino used to talk to him and the brothers when they were younger, "don't you think that there's something wrong with you?"

"I don't want to hear that from a gal who walked in whilst my dick was out!"

"Don't worry, it doesn't look like there was much to see."

He ends up yelling at you— which has been a lot of conclusions to his conversations with Luffy actually so it gives him a strange sense of deja vu, makes him miss Luffy even more. It really ain't the time to think about it though because he's got you by the shoulders, pushing you out of the men's bathroom when Thatch stops at the corner down the hall, blinks, and then just very carefully takes a step backwards and continues away.

Though he's mortified and his pride is irreversibly damaged and some of the division leaders are clapping him on the back and giving him congratulations and unnecessary advice on keeping women happy, you manage to get somewhat closer. You've got a dry kind of humour, a cut–throat habit of speaking before thinking, a childish kind of thought process that Ace can't help but find endearing sometimes. He thinks it's those moments where he can draw out the similarities of your personality and Luffy's or Sabo's; being around you reminds him of the fire.

And not only because your question gave him some kind of identity crisis (because why is he cold when he's literally fire?), but because you stoke the flames. It's the way you want to test whatever unreliable theory you've formed up in your head about his diametric body temperature and his logia; how easy it is for you to sweep your hands over him, part away the flames through your fingers like you're cutting through wisps of his hair to remind yourself it was hot. Then, press your palm against his bicep, curl your fingers around the 'a' of his tattoo and then drag down until you're at 'e', palm prickling with the frostbite as you do.

You're at his side often. The Whitebeards think you guys are in your honeymoon phase. Ace knows that he's merely a lab rat, even when Vista whistles lowly when you intentionally sit close enough to have your arms pressed against Ace's. Bare skin against his tattooed arm, warm and smooth against his cold and prickly, scritching, tickling. Then, like it doesn't matter, you'll touch with your fingers— feel it all out.

"Have you always been cold? I mean, before the devil fruit too?"

You're not shy about these things.

"Yeah. Always." Luffy and Sabo complained when they had to sleep next to him.

Ace ain't the kind of guy to flush and fumble over some light touching either but what you're doing feels light years away from what he's trying to rationalise it to be.

No one's ever been the kind of person to touch like you do— to caress and linger; Luffy was always big on touching, but that's only because he ain't ever learnt any better. He's the kind that smothers, chokes Ace out and leaves him as a heap of grey ash and black smoke. Your touch is the tending kind. Treading carefully, dropping another body onto the pyre, feeding the hollow with blood and flesh, keeping him a weighty full.

The next time you come 'round to the Moby Dick, it only seems natural that Ace feels the fire burn through his flesh, accelerating with a revv and leaving him with the sensation of skidding against carpet. A full body friction burn.

It's an immature thing: when you draw close, it excites the hearth, spitting out specks of broken coal and wisps of flames, threatens to melt all the calcium in him. Then, there's the cold after it, where Ace feels himself ooze back into his own skin, solidify against the cold of his flesh when you're far. The collapse of a star: the rapid energy that swirls into an intoxicating roast, spins itself round 'til it catches smoke, edges frayed and lighting up into bright hues of citrus until it's shot out as flecks of cool greys, goes around, comes around, goes and then comes, goes, then gone.

Haunting him is not the fire. Not the way you brush past him, dig your finger in and scrape your calloused print against the fold of his nape; not the way you don't stop; not the way you continue to walk off, talking to Whitey Bay about your provisions, what you got, what you don't. It's your back when he turns to follow, seeing you getting further away, feeling the warmth of your fingers fade away, fuzzy and carious and thoughtless. It's the cold after that haunts. The thought that comes to him after the frown, the soft, nagging insecurity that leaves him confused.

The day after, Whitey Bay has plans to set sail so Whitebeard makes it an excuse to celebrate, to have a drink.

Pirate parties are always the same kind of chaos.

Ace settles in front of all the food, never strays too far from the feast and lets himself be laughed at when he slumps face–first into his plate. Whenever he glances up to try and find you, you've moved. Weaseled your way into conversations with fleet members of other crews that he assumes you don't get to see often.

You'd started the night out by his side with your usual routine of checking the temperature of his flesh with your hands, assessing him carefully. Appraising his skin without even looking up to glance at him, leaving him with only the view of the top of your head— he wonders if you've got that glare on, the thoughtful one that makes him think you don't like him. He'd fallen asleep wondering that and when he woke up, you were gone. Must've not been too long since you left though, 'cause he can still feel an impression of the burn you left, fingers at the top of his shoulder, curling around to reach his collarbones before you've dragged your hand— fingers, palm, fuck, maybe even the shy of your wrist, all of it, intimate— down the curve of his slumped back.

You ain't come back since.

It's the third time that Ace has fallen asleep mid–chew. It's not as funny as it was the first time but there's still some splattering of laughter, a fuzzy noise over the tankards of beers and glasses of wine. Ace wipes the grease and spit from the corner of his mouth with an arm, yawning loudly to get air to kick start his brain and his bleary eyes wander around the beach of the stray island that they'd docked at.

He's chewing the meat that was already in his mouth when Thatch starts a second round of stir–fried something in front of him, the oil he pours into the fire revvs it alive, kicking and roaring to a metre of a man and a monolith of life until he slams a pan over it. The fire splits and breaks apart, when it parts over the edges of burnt steel, Ace sees you.

Mid–laugh, you are, lips curled back thin and your cheeks full, lava spluttering out of the dimples, warmed from the fire in front of you. A laugh that's so evident with the fire splitting through rakes of leaves and branches. Shoulders stuttering up, down; body shaking; drink sloshing out of your glass with the shake; foot stomping a rhythm against the ground that slaps and twangs loud in his skull— the flames smother, spread out even and he feels his flesh warm just beneath the skin. Your hair bulges with the hues of the campfire that crackles, billowing with the sweet lick of a sunrise dawn, melting into all the strands at the low of your chin. Violent and fond: Ace can see how the fire stirs at your feet, encroaching so carefully as not to alarm. He knows how it works, more intimate with the flames than you, so he can almost know how quickly it'll burn through your lens, taking the world down with it until it's a calm, quiet landscape with only the fact that you won't want to acknowledge.

Whatever he feels though— whatever stands in that clear landscape across from him comes and goes, quick because it's a blink of his eyes and then he's falling asleep again, with that image of the bright, supernova you: haunting.

Something you noticed when it came to your friends in Heartslabyul, is that Ace was never without Deuce and vice versa. The two never seemed to be far from the other, perpetually joined at the hip. They were both your dearest friends, but you couldn’t help but wish they spent a little less time together.

The reason being you have the biggest crush on one Ace Trappola.

You weren’t one to be shy about your feelings, but you also didn’t want to confess when Deuce was right there. You needed to find a way to separate them long enough to tell Ace how you felt. There had to be some way to accomplish this.

“Why don't you ask Deuce to leave him alone for an hour and talk to him then?” Grim stated, stretching on your bed.

“I could…” You mumbled. “But then again, he’s attached to Ace. I can’t ask him to leave Ace alone when Ace is right there!”

“Ask Riddle if there’s ever a moment they’re not together.” He rolled his eyes. “Jeez, henchman, you think too much.”

“Uh, since when did you get smart?”

“Hey! I’m always smart!”

Taking your “smart” cat’s advice, you met with Riddle the next day. At first, he seemed appalled that you assumed he knew his schedule. However he told you that while Ace had remedial magic history, Deuce would go to Mr. Sam’s to retrieve ingredients for Trey. Well, it wasn’t who you were looking for, but it could still work.

So that afternoon, while Ace was stuck in Professor Trein’s remedial class, you made your way to Mr Sam’s shop.

“Hello, my little imp.” He called out to you, his usual Cheshire grin on his face. “What are you looking for this fine afternoon?”

“I’m looking for Deuce actually.”

“He’s over in the produce section.”

You made your way over to where Deuce was comparing eggs. “Hey, Deuce. Can I talk to you for a moment, please?”

He gave you a smile. “Of course! How can I help?”

“Well I was wondering if later today, you  could give Ace and I an hour or so alone? I know the two of you are always together and I have something personal I want to tell him.”

“Are you going to confess to him?”

Your jaw dropped. “You know?”

“Well, I may not be the smartest student here, but I can see those longing looks you give him when he’s not paying attention.” He explained, blushing lightly.

Okay, now you were kind of embarrassed. “Ah, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make things awkward for you.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. If anything, I was trying to give you both space to talk since Ace mentioned he has a crush on you as well. However, he’s afraid to be alone with you, so he’d drag me along every time you invited him to hang out.”

Yeah, that sounded like Ace. You couldn’t help but chuckle and pulled Deuce into a hug. “Well, thanks at least for trying. You’re a good friend either way.”

“Anytime. I’ll try and give you both some space today so you can tell him.”

You squeezed him a little tighter. “Thank you.”

“DEUCE WHAT THE HELL MAN!”

The two of you jumped at Ace’s shout. As soon as you pulled away from him, Ace ran to tackle Deuce to the ground. You could only stare in shock as they wrestled.

“HOW COULD YOU? YOU KNEW I LIKED HER AND YOU DO THIS?!”

“What are you talking about?” Deuce managed to choke out.

“YOU HUGGED HER! AFTER I TOLD YOU HOW MUCH I LIKED HER! HOW COULD YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THIS?! I’LL KILL YOU!”

Shaking your head, you grabbed the back of Ace’s jacket to pull him off his friend. “Alright, alright let him go. You’re going to hurt yourself or worse, destroy Mr Sams’s shop!”

“Hey, you three!” Sam shouted. “If you’re going to fight, do it outside!”

You nodded and lugged the kicking and screaming Ace outside, Deuce following shortly behind and dusting himself off. As soon as you dropped him, Ace lunged at Deuce again. However, this time, you stepped in front of him.

“Hey, hey, whoa! Relax! He didn’t try to steal me from you.” You snapped.

“That’s what he wants you to think!” He shot back. “But he won’t get away with it so easily! I’ll show him! As soon as I confess to you, I-”

It finally dawned on him.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “No, no, please go on! As soon as you confess to me, you’ll what? I’m dying to know!”

Ace crossed his arms over his chest and turned away so you wouldn’t see that his cheeks were as red as the heart on his face. “Nothing, nevermind.”

“Well that’s too bad. Guess I’ll have to do it then.” Taking a deep breath, you announced, “Ace Trappola, I have feelings for you and I’d very much like to go on a date with you if you would like to as well.”

Both boys were stunned speechless. However, you knew he would accept your feelings. He already started for goodness sake before his embarrassment caught up to him!

Ace, bright red in the face, finally answered you. “Y-yeah, sure.”

You hugged him. “I’ll see you tonight then!”