Well, since MANY people seemed to like the first editions of Ace (I'm very flattered by the way, THANK YOU SO MUCH! đłđ«¶) with the initial design (more specifically the Alabasta and Pre-Timeskip) I decided to bring you a part 2!
you never liked new years, until the one where you meet a handsome stranger whose charm enchants you.
ace x gn!reader, happy birthday ace, suave use of ace's devil fruit, fluff, dancing
warnings: alcohol use, otherwise all fluff nothing too suggestive :-)
wc: 2.8k
read on Ao3
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Desolate. That was the only word you could seek to describe the hollow, longing sensation that gripped your chest in a vise every year you woke up on this day. It was nothing more than a forced acknowledgment of the passage of time, a forced celebration of the one thing you could never control.Â
New Years has always left something to be desired within you. No matter how many invigorating adventures or eras of aching heartaches you felt, this day remained the same.Â
The day passed on in a groggy haze, and you felt unsure of how this moment was any different than all the ones that had passed before. That is, until the moment in which you thought yourself silly for ever thinking so.Â
Your one tradition was to meander to your local saloon in the evening and stare down the bottom of a glass, the frosty mug tethering you to reality like a fraying thread. Before you knew it, youâd be home, and New Yearâs Day would be long gone, just like all the ones before.Â
Your nose burned with the arid chill of winter as you made your way through town. It wasnât necessarily that you preferred to spend your new year like this, but each time you shook things up, you couldnât shake the feeling that something was missing. like a piece of you was left somewhere. Perhaps it was left somewhere on the past yearâs calendar, a vague note of an event you missed. Perhaps it was your foolish optimism betraying you. Perhaps youâd never know for sure what it was.Â
Rubbing your hands together, you approached the saloon. the townspeople were awfully quiet on New Yearâs Day, having spent the night prior in celebratory bliss, now resting and recovering and getting to work on their resolutions. However, there was raucous laughter spilling from the saloon entrance, and it even sounded like there was music being played.Â
You bristled at the noise, coming to a halt just before the door. You came all this way. It would have to do. You push open the swinging door and an unfamiliar warmth washes over you, as though the usual drafty chill of the saloon were a thing of the past. A few dozen people crowd around the bar and occupy the tables, the smell of beer and sweat wafting from them. They sure seem a rowdy bunch, dancing and shouting to one another with a joy you rarely witnessed around these parts. You hoped that would play to your advantage, that youâd be able to buy your drink and swiftly make for the side door, where a lesser-known dock was tucked away; a secret that even few locals were aware of as it couldnât be easily spotted from outside.Â
You kept your eyes pointed toward the ground as you wove your way through the crowd and up to the bar. You squeezed into quite the spot for your face to be made visible to the disoriented bartender, who was anticipating this turnout as much as you were, taking your order with an exhausted crease between his brows.Â
You stiffly waited for the bartender to get your drink, straining to tune out of the ruckus while keeping your senses about you. The cacophony made your ears ring, tension curling your shoulders tight to yourself, squeezing the emptiness in your chest. Just as you made to take a breath, forcing your muscles to unwind, a force shoved you out of your seat, and you were fighting gravityâs inevitability. You were falling, and you could see the back of someone, likely the person who smacked into you, completely unaware of what they had caused.Â
You struggled to find purchase, your hands desperately searching for anything to stop your descent, when a pair of strong hands gripped your arms and pulled you to your feet. heat flooded through your clothes and seeped into your bones at the point of contact.Â
âEasy, now.â A gentle yet firm voice made its way to your ears, and you felt them start to burn at the sound. âAre you alright?â
You nearly choked as you lifted your gaze toward the person whoâd stopped your fall. A pair of shimmering eyes searched you, framed by a dashing smatter of freckles and a faint blush. Shaggy black hair fell down his face, covered by a peculiar orange hat. He was quite possibly the most beautiful person youâd ever seen, and he was watching you carefully, an inquisitive grin playing across his lips.Â
You realized you were staring and that heâd asked you a question, but a lump had formed in your throat, and you didnât trust your voice not to betray you. The fact that his hands still gripped your upper arms made it no easier, and you convinced yourself they were the cause of the heat flooding your face and neck. You gave a sheepish nod, the only indication you could give that you were okay.Â
The man chuckled with relief as he released you. A chill replaced the space where his hands had been. âThat would have been a nasty fall. Iâm sorry if my friends are bothering you.âÂ
Your eyes were still locked onto him, as though he were the only thing keeping you upright. Your voice was nowhere to be found at this point, but the thud of a pint being set on the counter beside you snapped you back to reality. You grabbed your drink and finally broke your stare.Â
âLetâs hear a toast from our flaming commander!â someone shouted over the chaos, and the bar thrummed with cheers and applause. The man before you was swallowed by his comrades by the time you swiftly made for the exit to the dock, drink in hand.Â
The icy bite of winter pinched your heated cheeks as you sat on the aging wooden planks that held you over the oceanâs edge. Your feet dangled over space, and you stared at the endless horizon. Several moments passed, the calm of the night creeping over you like a haunted shadow. You downed half your beer in one go, drowning your embarrassment. You were completely speechless the instant you saw that man. You couldnât even muster a thank-you with his eyes burning holes through your own.Â
You listlessly swiped a hand down your face and did your best to forget that exchange. Allowing the sound of the waves to draw out your lingering emotions, you took back this time you had reserved for yourself. You had wanted to be alone, after all, and there was nobody out here to disrupt your melancholy.Â
You were contemplating the value of going back inside for another drink when you heard the saloon door open. Your head snapped towards the pool of light breaking the dark of the night. You twitched with a jolt of recognition at the one who stood before you as you quickly turned your head back toward the sea.Â
âI hope Iâm not disturbing you,â the man said as he knelt down a few feet away from you. I was craving a bit of a break. You can pretend Iâm not here if you want.â
You considered him for a moment. You thought his presence would surely be disturbing, considering how you had made a fool of yourself minutes ago, but that wasnât what you felt. Now that he was separated from the party, his presence felt⊠warm? welcoming? You couldnât quite describe it, but the chill on your fingers and nose was fading, and you found you didnât quite mind sharing your hidden oasis with him.Â
âNo, youâre not disturbing anything at all,â you smiled at him but refrained from meeting his eyes. âThank you for asking and for your help earlier.â
âDonât mention it.â he sat, swinging his legs over the edge of the dock, echoing your position.Â
You meant what you said when you welcomed him, but you found yourself fidgeting with your hands, unsure of what to do. It no longer felt right to wallow.Â
âSo tell me, what are you doing here all by yourself?â he leaned toward you, resting one padded elbow on his thigh. At that moment, you fully realized that he wasnât wearing a shirt. Your island wasnât the coldest, but it was still winter, and long sleeves were the bare minimum for fighting the chill. You tried not to gawk. âThat is, if you donât mind my asking.â
âNothing too special,â you said. âIâm not much of the type to celebrate the new year, but I do like to have a drink or two.â
âYou donât like New Yearâs?â he seemed genuinely curious, which took you aback. You were just a stranger, not anyone of significance on this day to someone who has been out partying with their friends.
You shook your head. âI canât say I do. But I wonât ruin anyoneâs festive spirit.â You waved around yourself. âSo thatâs why Iâm alone.â You feigned a small smile, surprised at yourself for speaking your admission aloud.Â
âYou know, youâre the first person Iâve met who said they donât like New Yearâs.â His gaze gripped you, he wore an inscrutable look. You were helpless but to gaze back. He looked away, stretching out his arms. âIt isnât my favorite holiday, but I do like parties.â
âYour friends seem to know how to throw a good party,â you said, breaking the momentary silence. âAre you celebrating anything in specific? Iâd have assumed any New Yearâs revelry has passed.â
He shrugged. âNothing too special.â You both smiled then. âWhatâs your name?â
You told him, and he repeated it back to you. Youâd never heard it said with such grace. Your heartbeat quickened when you found yourself wishing to hear it again.Â
âIâm Ace. Itâs a pleasure to meet you.â He raised his mug of ale with a twinkle in his eye. Ace. The name fit him like a well-loved pair of gloves.Â
You picked up your glass, but set it back down coyly. Empty. You forgot you had planned to top up before Ace had showed up. Before you could think what to do, not wishing to toast on an empty glass, Ace was pouring some of the amber liquid from his mug into your cup.
You laughed. âThank you. It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Ace.â
The faint pink on Aceâs cheeks flushed until it burned red, stretching across the bridge of his nose. He hid behind his mug, taking a sip. You did the same, eyeing him over the rim with playful curiosity.Â
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, and you watched each other out of the corners of your eyes, dodging the other so as not to get caught. You were much warmer than you would have thought, and it couldnât have been the one drink you had. You grew concerned for your new acquaintance. Shouldnât he be shivering?
âArenât you cold, dressed like that?â The words came out before you could ponder it anymore, but then you realized you just admitted to staring at him. You looked away just as you caught him turning toward you, scared to know the look on his face.Â
Ace chuckled. âNah, I donât really get cold.âÂ
You furrowed your brow, confused, but entertained. âYouâre not just saying that to look cool, are you?â
His chuckle turned into laughter. âNo, itâs true. I ate a devil fruit. Now Iâm made of fire.â
You folded your arms and feigned an incredulous look. âYouâre lying.â
âItâs true!âÂ
You shook your head in challenge. âProve it.â
The smile he wore was absolutely radiant. âAs you wish.â He lifted one knee to turn to face you. He lifted one hand and held it out. Before you could blink, his hand was engulfed in flames, red and orange tendrils dancing in all directions. Your jaw was on the floor and without a second thought you crawled closer to him, wanting a better look.Â
âNo way,â you gawked. âDoes it hurt?âÂ
He watched you with cool amusement. âNot at all.â He flipped the fire over, and suddenly it winked out of existence, leaving his hand behind. You gasped, and grabbed his hand to look for any signs of a burn, or even for the fire to have been there in the first place. His skin was hot to the touch, but not so much that it hurt. You turned it this way and that. Other than the heat, you wouldnât have been able to believe it was real at all.Â
Ace grabbed your hand then, and you looked up at him. His head was tilted down towards you, his expression full of mirth. Your face flooded with embarrassment at your imposition, and you made to pull your hand back, but he held you firm, lacing his fingers through yours.Â
âWhat do I get for proving it?â Ace said, a slight rasp to his voice. You weakened a little at the sound.Â
Your mind felt giddy at the way his gaze was fixed on you. You felt certain you would have done anything he asked in that moment. Rather than admitting such an absurd thing to someone youâd just met, you ask him, âWhat do you want?âÂ
It came out a lot more breathy and far less confident than youâd expected. Ace stood, pulling you up with him. âDance with me.âÂ
Your expression fell as you recalled the utter chaos on the other side of the saloon door. âIn there? With all your friends?â
Ace shook his head. âOut here, where itâs nice.â
âBut thereâs no music or anything!â Your heart was thrumming in your chest, completely out of your depth. It wasnât that you didnât know how to dance, but the intimacy and attention was dizzying.
Ace released your hand and picked up his now empty mug from the ground. He walked over to the door of the saloon, and wedged the mug between the threshold. The small gap let out the sound of music and laughter - not too loud, but just enough to hear the tune. He turned back to you, holding out his hand.
You stood still, contemplating. This was absolutely not how you were planning on spending the evening. But you couldnât find any sense of disappointment within. With a deep breath, you reached for him, your face burning with a rush of excitement that you couldnât place.
Ace pulled you close, and the heat he was giving off bathed you in contentment. The song playing was definitely more of a jig, but Ace set a smooth pace, guiding you here and there with effortless grace. Each time you found his eyes, they were already on you.Â
You were completely lost in him, time passing without a thought. Each brush of his hands on you lit you up with electricity that felt soothing to the touch. It could have been minutes or hours that you spent together, but you realized you didnât care. Was this what it was like to gleefully acknowledge the passage of time?
The two of you were much closer together than youâd been when you started dancing, and you were drunk off his embrace. The music began to fade, and the sound of the partygoers flooded out of the saloon.Â
âWhereâs Ace?â âSomeone find the birthday boy?â
Ace brought you to a stop, holding you in place. His chin was resting on your forehead. How was it so easy to feel comfortable like this? You couldnât say.Â
âIâm afraid I have to get back to my friends.â His voice was nearly a whisper.
You slowly came back to yourself, processing the words youâd just heard. You stepped back, fully looking at him. âItâs your birthday?â
He gave you a playful wink as he started turning toward the door. âNothing too special, as I said.â
Your heartbeat was a cacophonous rhythm as you watched Ace begin walking away. You couldnât let this moment pass you by. It was time for you to take control of it. Rushing towards him, you grabbed his hand, and he spun back, caught in a flash of surprise and curiosity.Â
âI think Iâm starting to like New Yearâs, after all.â You pulled him closer to you, willing any hesitation away. Ace smiled at you, that radiant smile that had become so intoxicating. His eyes fell from your eyes to your lips, and you moved on instinct. It seemed Ace did too, as he lowered his head, and your lips met with a gentle sort of passion. It was everything and nothing, an eternity and yet just a moment.Â
You werenât sure if youâd see Ace again next New Year, but if you didnât, at least you would know what was missing this time.
~~~
Thank you so much for reading! This came to me like a fever dream when I was doing some reflecting. I've never liked New Years, in fact it makes me a bit depressed, so this is a bit of a personal balm for me because thinking about Ace makes me smile.
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