Prom Dance
PORTGAS D. ACE x READER
90's modern AU
Synopsis: He's handsome, funny, carefree, cool, and plays guitar. For as long as you can remember, you've always had a huge crush on your best friend's older brother, Ace. Who wouldn't? However, you're sure he only sees you as a kid. Even though... you're about to graduate from high school... you're not a kid anymore... But nah, better stop dreaming. You have worse things to worry about. For example: prom is in two days and you're the only one in your friend group who doesn't have a date.
Wordcount: +10K words
Contents: 90's AU, first time, prom dance, Reader is 18 years old, Reader is Vista's daughter (because why not), nsfw, smut, pinv, oral sex (female recieving), fluff.
Author's note: The Reader is only named Nancy because that's the default name I use for all of my fics. I'm not good at writing second person, sorry. The idea for this fic came after I re-watched one of the "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" movies and I thought Ace gives me Rodrick vibes. Sometimes a girl just has to write a fluffy silly one-shot full of clichés of a fictional character she's got a crush on. The smut part is at the very end, and can be totally skipped, lol. I included Mihawk and Crocodile as teachers and I lost my ass off.
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"The obsidian scales of the wyvern shimmer with a malevolent, oily sheen as it descends from the rafters of the Forsaken Keep!" Usopp declared, his voice rising to a theatrical vibrato. He leaned over the coffee table, his shadow looming large against the living room walls. "The beast’s nostrils flare, exuding a sulfuric stench that threatens to choke the very breath from your lungs. Its eyes—primordial orbs of burning amber—fixate upon all of you".
Such were those gold-spun afternoons, sequestered within the sanctuary of her best friend's living room. There were few things she held more dear than those DnD campaigns— the cacophony of shared laughter, the cloying scent of salt-laden snacks pilfered from the corner bodega, and the tinny, distant warble of Top 40 hits emanating from Luffy's grandfather's rickety radio. It was an ideal microcosm of chaos, defined by Luffy’s erratic whims, Usopp’s frantic dedication to his craft, and Sanji’s inexplicable insistence on treating a tabletop fantasy as a dating simulator.
Yet, on this particular evening, the air felt heavy, the camaraderie unable to pierce the shroud of Nancy's mounting melancholy. Her chin remained anchored in her palm, her gaze listless and drifting.
"Hey, Usopp," Luffy interrupted, picking a piece of lint off his character sheet. "Is the dragon cool? Can I be friends with him?"
Usopp’s eye twitched, his carefully constructed atmosphere shattering like glass. "Friends? Luffy, it is a Drake of the Ninth Circle! It hasn't eaten in three centuries, and it perceives your existence as a light appetizer!"
"So... I can eat it?" Luffy asked, his eyes widening with genuine curiosity.
"NO, YOU CANNOT EAT THE BOSS!" Usopp shrieked, clutching his head.
On the other side of the table, a blond boy exhaled a long, elegant plume of smoke, leaning back in his chair with a practiced, nonchalant grace. His character, a silver-armored knight with a suspiciously well-groomed coif, sat poised on the grid map. "Ignore the glutton, Dungeon Master. My character, Sir Valentine of the Blue North, steps forward. I shall remove my plumed helm, bow low, and attempt to charm the dragon’s handmaiden. Surely a creature of such power is surrounded by ladies of refined taste?"
"It’s a dungeon, Sanji! There are no handmaidens, only skeletons, moss and misery!" the irritated dungeon master roared. He turned his desperate gaze toward the corner of the sofa. "Nancy! For the love of the gods, your party is falling apart. The dragon is inhaling! It’s your turn!"
Nancy didn’t move. Her chin was propped in her palm, her eyes glazed over as she stared at the empty wrappers of snacks.
"Nancy!" Usopp barked. "Earth calling Nancy. Come on. You're on another planet, aren't you?"
She snapped back to reality, her expression souring instantly. "It wouldn't be the case if a certain TRAITOR hadn't abandoned me!" she declared, her voice ringing out with a sharp, spiteful clarity that silenced even Luffy’s humming.
Luffy blinked, tilting his head with the baffling innocence of a golden retriever. "But you said you didn't want to go to the prom!"
"I say a lot of things," she scoffed. "We were supposed to be the 'Loser Duo' together. And now? Now I’m the only one who won’t have ‘memories for a lifetime’ or whatever other sentimental rot they print in the yearbook.”
“I've already told you a million times that I'm sorry, Nance,” Luffy said, though his apology was undermined by his reaching for a handful of chips. “But you know I’ve already got a partner.”
Sanji let out a strangled, envious cough, nearly dropping his cigarette. "I don't know how you pulled the head cheerleader, man. Not even in my wildest dreams."
"Hancock is a very good friend of mine," Luffy said, flashing that signature, unconscious grin that drove half the school mad. To him, the most beautiful girl in the county was just another person who shared her lunch. "When she asked me, I couldn't say no. She also told me she would take me out to dinner after the dance."
Usopp slapped his forehead with a resounding thwack. "Yeah... 'dinner.' He's going to eat you alive, dude."
"It’s not fair!" Nancy groaned, throwing her hands up. "Everyone is sorted! You’re going with Kaya, Luffy going with that vixen who bullies Koby, Sanji’s... well, Sanji is going. One of you has to help me! I can't be the only senior staying home eating three-flavor ice cream straight from the tub while while watching low-budget slashers. This is a crisis!"
Sanji placed a hand over his heart, his expression melting into one of tragic chivalry. "Mademoiselle, I would be delighted to go to the ball with you, but I am already engaged to a stunning and radiant girl whom I cannot refuse. I'm not saying you're not stunning either! You are a diamond in the rough, a—"
"The only reason Nami agreed to go with you is that her girlfriend got a fever," Usopp deadpanned, cutting through the romantic fog. "And you've been unbearable all week because of it."
Nancy sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Poor Vivi. I hope she gets well soon. What a shame, she seemed so excited about the dress."
"Why don't you just go with Zoro?" Luffy asked, digging into a bag of chips. "He's strong. He can carry your purse or whatever."
"That mosshead isn't suitable for Nancy's charming elegance," Sanji countered with a contemptuous glare.
"I tried asking him," Nancy muttered, her voice dripping with defeat. "But he says he’s too busy with football team training."
"Coach Mihawk must be very strict this year," Usopp commented, shuddering at the thought of the man’s piercing, hawklike gaze. "I heard he made the team run laps until three of them started to see visions of the afterlife."
"Forget it," Nancy sighed, picking up her die and rolling it listlessly. "It’s hopeless. Let’s just kill the dragon or die in this stupid dungeon. It’s a fitting metaphor for my life."
The dice rattled across the table, but before they could settle, the very foundation of the house seemed to shudder.
THRAAANNGGG.
A sudden, thunderous roar erupted from the floor above—not of a dragon, but of an overdriven vacuum tube amplifier. A shrill, high-pitched guitar riff sliced through the ceiling, a jagged streak of bluesy distortion that vibrated in Nancy’s chest. It was loud, chaotic, and utterly arrogant.
Suddenly, her sour expression vanished, replaced by a secret, traitorous warmth that flooded her cheeks. She knew that specific, messy pentatonic scale. She knew the heavy-handed vibrato.
It was him.
“ACE! GOD-FUCKING-DAMN IT!"
A roar of vitriolic indignation erupted from the kitchen, a thunderous sound that seemed to rattle the very plates in the cupboards. It could be none other than Garp, Luffy's fearsome grandfather, a man as tall as a tower with whom was better not mess around. “I HAVE TOLD YOU A THOUSAND TIMES TO TAKE THAT FUCKING ELECTRICAL RACKET TO THE JUNKYARD WHERE IT BELONGS! IF I HEAR ONE MORE FUCKING NOTE, I’M GOING TO PERSONALLY ENSURE THAT FUCKING GUITAR SPENDS THE NIGHT LODGED IN THE DRYWALL! DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU LITTLE SHIT?!”
The response was instantaneous, drifting down from the second floor with equal parts grit and youthful defiance. “I WASN'T EVEN PLAYING THAT LOUD, OLD MAN! PERHAPS IF YOU TURNED DOWN YOUR HEARING AID, YOU’D APPRECIATE THE EVOLUTION OF ROCK AND ROLL! GO TO THE FUCKING ASYLUM AND LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE, YOU OLD BASTARD".
While Usopp and Sanji sat paralyzed—caught in the crossfire of a familial war they were far too polite to engage in—Luffy simply dissolved into a fit of breathless giggles.
He slumped against the sofa, clutching his stomach. “He’s gonna get it now,” Luffy wheezed, his eyes bright with mischief. “Gramps is gonna give him the Fist of Love if he doesn’t pipe down.”
The sonic assault of the guitar ceased abruptly, replaced by the rhythmic, heavy thud of footsteps descending the stairs.
Ace emerged into the living room, muttering a string of colorful curses under his breath, his brow furrowed in a scowl that did little to mask the innate warmth of his features. Nancy felt the air leave her lungs in a slow, agonizing hiss. She had known him for six years—had watched him grow from a lanky, wimpy teenager into the stunning 20 years old young man standing before her—and yet, the sight of him still hit her with the force of a physical blow as if it were the first time she had seen him.
He was wearing a threadbare white tank top that hung loosely from his frame, the fabric stretching over the broad expanse of his shoulders and dipping low enough to reveal the sharp, athletic lines of his lower abdominals as he idly scratched his stomach. His hair was a chaotic crown of ink-black curls, sweat-damp and sticking to his forehead, while the constellation of freckles across his sun-kissed cheeks seemed to glow in the light of the room.
Nancy felt the heat climb her neck, a vivid crimson tide she couldn't suppress. Beside her, Usopp cleared his throat with unnecessary volume, and Sanji’s eyes narrowed as he flicked his gaze between her flushed face and the oblivious little brother.
They knew. It was hard not to know. The only one who didn't was Luffy, nut nobody was surprised; he was so stupid he didn't even notice the weather.
Ace marched toward the kitchen, his hunger apparently outweighing his annoyance as he searched for some snacks. “Stupid old man. Hope you get sent to the asylum soon,” he grumbled, though his eyes brightened when he saw the group.
“Hey, Ace!” Luffy called out, leaning over the back of the sofa. “Was that for the band? Rehearsing for ‘the Whitebeards’ big debut?”
Ace paused, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The Whitebeards were a ragtag collection of neighborhood outcasts and dreamers—a group most would dismiss as losers—but to Ace, they were the start of something monumental.
“Something like that. Marco’s been riding my ass about the bridge in the third track. Says I’m too ‘flashy.’ As if that’s a thing.”
He crossed the room in three strides, leaning over Sanji and deftly plucking the smoldering cigarette from the blonde boy's fingers. “No smoking in the house. You want Gramps to smell that and skin us alive?"
With a casual flick of his wrist, Ace extinguished the cigarette in an empty soda can. He turned his gaze toward Nancy, his smile softening into something dangerously charming. “Hey, Nancy. Cool shirt. Foo Fighters? Heard two or three songs."
“They're... They're pretty neat. Dave Grohl is a genius,” she managed, her voice a pitch higher than she intended.
“I'll try listening to them more, then,” Ace chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. He scanned the table, the cluttered maps and polyhedral dice catching the light. “What’cha doing? Playing one of your geeky games? Cool.”
“We’re actually packing it up,” Usopp said, his voice laced with the exhaustion of a man who had been defeated by his own players. “The campaign is in shambles, and frankly, it’s best to call it a day before Luffy tries to eat the scenery.”
“Yeah,” Nancy added, her tone dripping with a dry, self-deprecating laughter. “We were all going to die in that dungeon anyway. It's for the better”
“DOES IT SOUND FUNNY TO YOU?!” Usopp shouted, throwing his hands up in mock despair.
The oldest boy let out a genuine, booming laugh that echoed in the small space, and Nancy found herself smiling back, her previous gloom momentarily banished by the gravity of his presence.
“Tell you what,” Ace said, jingling a set of keys he pulled from his pocket. “If you guys are heading out, I’ll give you a lift.”
“That’s right!” Luffy yelled, flopping back onto the sofa cushions with a dramatic groan. "Ace got the license officially last week. After fifteen tries—"
Ace's hand immediately covered Luffy's ill-advised mouth. "Nobody needs to know how many tries it took".
“Man, that would be great,” Nancy said between giggles. “Thanks, Ace.”
The room became a flurry of activity—bags being zipped, jackets being donned. The group of teenagers filed out toward the front door, the evening air beginning to cool the house. Ace led the way, his stride confident and rhythmic.
Only Luffy remained, stretched out across the sofa like a discarded marionette.
“Aren’t you coming, Lu?” Ace asked, pausing at the door.
“Nah,” he groaned in response, closing his eyes. “I’m too lazy. The sofa has claimed me."
The others walked out, but as Nancy reached the threshold, Luffy’s voice, uncharacteristically soft, called her back.
“Nance.”
She paused, looking back at her best friend. He was looking at her with a lopsided, weary smile that lacked his usual frantic energy.
“Don’t be mad at me, okay?” he said. “I’ll treat you to a double-berry smoothie tomorrow after practice. The one from the overpriced café at the mall you like so much.”
Nancy felt a pang of affection that momentarily dulled the sting of the dance. She leaned against the doorframe, a small, genuine smile touching her lips. “You better. With extra whipped cream."
“Deal,” he chirped.
Nancy stepped out into the night, the cool breeze hitting her heated skin as she followed the sound of Ace’s laughter toward the waiting car.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The interior of Ace’s beat-up hatchback was a sensory overload: the pervasive scent of pine-shaped air fresheners struggling against the musk of old leather, a dashboard cluttered with cassette tapes, and the low, rhythmic thrum of the engine that felt like a heartbeat beneath their feet.
Nancy sat in the passenger seat, her pulse still erratic, acutely aware of Ace’s hand resting casually on the gear shift just inches from her knee.
In the back, Usopp and Sanji were squeezed together, their presence a comforting, if slightly suffocating, buffer.
“So,” the older one began, his voice cutting through the ambient hum of the tires. “I could hear you guys all the way from upstairs. Sounded like a damn riot in the living room. What was the heated debate about? Anything juicy?”
Nancy froze. She stared straight ahead through the windshield, her eyes widening in a silent, agonizing plea that she hoped Usopp could read through the back of her skull. Don’t you dare, she thought, her knuckles whitening as she gripped her bag.
Ignoring the palpable radiation of Nancy’s panic, Usopp leaned forward, his voice dripping with a mix of mischief and mock-sympathy. “Oh, you know. Just the tragedy of the century. Nancy here has been left high and dry for the Prom. No partner, no plan, just a lot of brooding and threats to burn the gym down.”
Ace’s head tilted slightly, his brows knitting together in genuine confusion. He glanced briefly toward Nancy before returning his eyes to the road. “No partner? You? What kind of nonsense is that?”
Nancy let out a sharp, defensive breath, her face heating up. “I hadn't planned on going, okay? It’s a ridiculous, over-hyped ritual. And your TRAITOR of a brother was supposed to be my partner-in-crime for the ‘Anti-Prom’ movement. But apparently, all it takes is the 'empress of the school' inviting him to dinner to make him flip on his principles. Now everyone is going, and I’m just... the leftover.”
Ace let out a rich, booming laugh that filled the small cabin, shaking his head. “Seriously, man? Well, that sounds like Luffy. The guy would join a cult if they promised him a decent buffet. But hey, don’t let him get to you. He’s a total bonehead.” He settled back into his seat, a nostalgic, slightly lopsided smile playing on his lips. “Oh, I remember my Prom. What a trip. Memories for days.”
He shifted gears, his expression softening as if looking into the past. “I went with the whole band—The Whitebeards—just a bunch of us causing trouble. We managed to spike the punch with enough vodka to fuel a jet engine; what a show it was. And, of course, I went with that girlfriend at the time... the one I had that spectacular train wreck of a breakup with a while back.”
Nancy’s chest tightened. She remembered. She remembered every agonizing afternoon three years ago when she’d go to Luffy’s house only to find that girl draped over Ace’s shoulder, laughing at jokes Nancy didn't understand. She remembered the sharp, cold needle of jealousy that had defined her fourteenth year.
“You should have accepted when I asked you back then, Nancy,” Sanji interjected from the back, his voice thick with a fake, tragic longing. “We could have been the talk of the town. A knight and his lady.”
“You asked every single girl with a pulse in a three-mile radius, Sanji,” Nancy retorted, her voice snapping back with its usual bite. “Don’t fuck around.”
The car lapsed into a momentary silence, the neon sign of a passing 7-Eleven washing over them in a blur of crimson and green. Then, with his eyes fixed steadily on the dark road ahead, Ace spoke, his tone casual yet strangely resonant.
“Well, if it’s such a crisis... why don’t you just go with me?”
The world seemed to stop. Nancy’s breath hitched in her throat, her entire body locking into a state of stunned paralysis. She didn't move; she didn't even blink. Behind her, she could practically feel the physical weight of Usopp and Sanji’s gazes burning into the back of her neck—wide-eyed, knowing, and utterly electrified. A muffled, high-pitched giggle escaped Usopp, followed quickly by the sound of Sanji desperately trying to turn a snort into a cough.
“But... but...” Nancy stammered, the crimson on her cheeks now reaching a fever pitch. “Are you even allowed? I mean, you graduated years ago. Wouldn't it be... weird?”
“As if all those stuck-up mean girls didn't bring their college boyfriends to flex. Of course I can go! It’ll be a blast,” Ace said, his grin widening as he glanced at her. “Man, I haven’t seen Principal Newgate in ages. I wonder if the old man is still as terrifying as I remember. I’d love to see his face when I roll up to the front doors.”
Nancy remained silent for a few heartbeats, her brain frantically trying to process the invitation. It was the thing she had dreamt of since she was twelve, delivered with the casual ease of an offer for a soda. She took a breath, forcing her muscles to relax, despite the fact that her heart was currently sprinting.
“Fine,” she said, her voice steadying. “If you’re sure you want to subject yourself to a high school gym smelling like cheap cologne and hormones again, I guess I can let you escort me.”
“That’s the spirit,” Ace chuckled.
The car stopped twice more. First at Usopp’s house, then at Sanji’s. Both boys lingered for a second, flashing Nancy grins that were so loaded with with unspoken commentary and "We'll-talk-about-this-later" energy that she wanted to dissolve into the upholstery.
Then, the car was quiet. Just the hum of the engine and the two of them.
“Hey, Ace,” Nancy said softly, looking out the side window as her house came into view. “I don’t mean to be a pain. Really. You don’t have to do this. It was a nice gesture, but it’s a bit silly for a guy like you to spend a Friday night with a bunch of teenagers.”
Ace pulled the car to the curb and turned off the ignition. The silence that followed was heavy but sweet. He turned toward her, a look of gentle, mock-indignation on his face.
“Oh, but I WANT to. I mean it, Nancy,” he insisted, his voice dropping into a sincere, warm register. “I really can’t wrap my head around how you haven’t been snapped up as a partner already. It’s a mystery to me. And it would be a damn shame for you to miss out on the big finale of high school just because Luffy is a flake. You’re a senior! You deserve the whole ridiculous experience.”
Nancy looked at him, her heart aching with a mixture of adoration and a familiar, dull pain. “You’re beyond help,” she joked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Don’t worry about me. You’re going to have a great time,” Ace said, reaching out to give her shoulder a friendly, brief squeeze. “How couldn't I do you the favour? You’re my little brother’s best friend. And by extension, you’re my friend too.”
Nancy forced a smile, though his words felt like a physical weight in her chest. Friend. The word was a safety net for him and a cage for her. “Yeah... friend.”
"Besides," Ace added, a mischievous glint dancing in his dark eyes as he leaned slightly closer, "out of all Luffy's band of misfits, you've always been my favorite. Don't tell the others, they'll get jealous."
Nancy couldn't help it; she giggled, her face flushing a deep, radiant pink. "Your secret is safe with me."
She opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air. Ace rolled down the passenger window, resting his tanned, freckled arm on the frame as he looked up at her, the streetlamp casting long shadows across his face.
“Thanks a lot, Ace. You’re the best,” she said, clutching her bag to her chest.
“No biggie,” Ace responded, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “I’ll pick you up at seven on Friday. Get a nice dress, okay?”
He gave her a quick, devastating wink, shifted the car into gear, and pulled away, leaving Nancy standing on the sidewalk in the silence of the night, her heart loud enough to wake the neighbors.
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The fluorescent hum of the Grand Line High hallways seemed to pulse in synchronization with the group’s collective euphoria. Against the battered, dented metal of the lockers, Nancy found herself the epicenter of a social earthquake.
Usopp had a proprietary arm slung around her shoulder, shaking her with the manic energy of a man who had just witnessed a miracle, while Nami stood opposite them, her books forgotten on the floor, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and vicarious triumph.
"I cannot—I literally cannot—process this information," Nami declared, her voice rising above the cacophony of slamming lockers and distant bell chimes. "Nancy, you’ve been sighing for Ace since the freshman orientation. This isn’t just a date; this is the event of the century!"
Nancy felt the heat radiating from her collar, a pulsating crimson that threatened to swallow her whole. "Guys, please, keep it down! It’s not... it’s not a 'date' date. He’s just being a nice guy. He’s doing me a favor, and—"
"Don't you dare diminish this with that self-deprecating 'just friends' nonsense. You've been pining for that freckled god since we were wearing braces. Own the moment!" Usopp barked, grinning ear to ear.
The conversation was abruptly punctuated by a kinetic whirlwind. Luffy appeared out of the crowd like a cannonball, his long limbs wrapping around Nancy in a hug so exuberant it nearly sent them both sprawling onto the linoleum.
"NANCY!" he roared into her ear, his smile radiating a brightness that could rival the stadium lights. "Ace told me this morning! He’s actually coming! My best friend and my brother at the same party? This is going to be the best night of my life! We’re going to eat so much cake and dance together and...!"
The sheer, pure innocence of his joy was almost physically painful. Nami, however, did not share his blissful ignorance. With the practiced precision of a seasoned enforcer, she reached out and snagged the back of Luffy’s collar, hauling him back until he was eye-level with her simmering fury.
"Listen to me, you air-headed menace," Nami hissed, her eyes narrowing into predatory slits. “If you so much as think about sticking your nose into their business on Friday night—if you interrupt them, if you ask for a bite of their food, or if you act like your usual, oblivious self—I will personally ensure you spend the rest of senior year in a locker. Don't you dare to interfere. Do you understand?”
Luffy blinked, his head tilting in that classic gesture of profound confusion. "Interfere? With what? We're all just going to hang out, right?"
"Oh, they'll be doing more than hanging out," Sanji interjected, leaning against a locker with a look of pure, unrefined mischief. He adjusted his tie, his gaze drifting toward Nancy with a smirk that suggested he knew exactly how many heartbeats she was skipping. "I’m putting my money on Ace and Nancy reaching first base by the time the slow songs start.”
Nancy’s brain felt like it was short-circuiting. "Sanji, I will kill you. I will actually end your life."
"First base? Please," Usopp scoffed, emboldened by the chaos. “Sanji, you underestimate the man. Ace has been out in the real world. He’s aiming for the second base!"
Nami let go of Luffy’s collar, a wicked, playful glint entering her eyes. She stepped into Nancy’s personal space, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial murmur that carried just enough weight to be devastating.
"And what about third base?" she whispered, making a subtle, unmistakable gesture with her hands—forming a small circle with the index finger and thumb of one hand and sliding her other index finger through it with a slow, suggestive rhythm.
The sound that left Nancy’s throat was less of a word and more of a strangled, high-pitched scream of pure mortification. She slammed her hands over her face, her voice muffled by her palms. "SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU, JUST SHUT THE FULL FRONT DOOR AND SHUT UP!"
Luffy stood in the center of the storm, his brow furrowed in genuine, agonizing perplexity. "Wait... why are you guys talking about bases? Are Ace and Nance going to play baseball? In a dress? I don’t understand."
Usopp and Sanji collapsed into a fit of raucous, doubled-over laughter, while Nami simply slapped her forehead with a resounding thwack. Nancy let out a long, shuddering sigh, her hands still shielding her burning cheeks from the world.
"Alright, enough teasing," Nami said, suddenly switching into the fashion dictator that Nancy feared so much. The playful glint vanished, replaced by the steely determination of a girl with a mission. "We have a much more important mission. We need to get you a dress. Not just any dress—the most stunning, outrageous dress ever."
Nancy dropped her hands, her expression falling into a grimace of defeat. "Nami, the ball is tomorrow. Tomorrow! Every boutique in the city is picked over. All that’s left are the puffy-sleeved monstrosities that look like '70s bridesmaid gowns."
Nami went quiet for a moment, her eyes darting back and forth as her mental gears turned. A thoughtful, gentle smile finally graced her lips. “I have an idea. A perfect one.”
"What?" Nancy asked.
"Vivi's dress," Nami said, her voice growing more confident. "She’s devastated that she’s too sick to go, and she’s been staring at that dress in her closet for weeks. You two are basically the same size, give or take an inch. She’d be thrilled to see it actually get its moment in the spotlight. It’s elegant, it’s stunning, and it’s sitting right there, waiting for a wearer."
Nancy hesitated, the thought of the beautiful, shimmering gown she’d seen Vivi describe over the phone swirling in her head. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to... I don't know, feel like I'm stealing her night."
"Nancy," Nami said, grabbing her hands with uncharacteristic gentleness. "Vivi loves you. Seeing you go with Ace in her dress? That’s not stealing—that’s a victory for the whole group. Let’s go. We’re going to Vivi’s after school."
"Okay..." She replied reluctantly. "But I hope it doesn't take too long. That bastard Luffy still owes me a smoothie."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
It was... weird. The mirror in the foyer of Nancy’s modest suburban home felt less like a reflective surface and more like a portal into an alternative reality. Staring back at her was a vision in electric blue—a dress of cascading ruffles and shimmering flower-patterned silk that belonged to a girl who moved through the world with far more grace than Nancy felt she possessed.
She could still feel the phantom pressure of the previous afternoon’s cosmetic siege. Nami and Vivi, despite the latter’s staggering forty-degree fever, had descended upon Nancy with a ferocity usually reserved for war room stratagems.
The girl recalled the scent of Vivi’s prohibitively expensive nail polish—a deep, pearlescent shade—as Nami meticulously painted her nails, ignoring Nancy’s protests that she would likely chip them within the hour. They had sifted through an avalanche of accessories, discarding necklaces and earrings like dross until, amidst the chaos of glitter and gold, they found it: a delicate, indigo flower hair clip that tucked perfectly behind her ear, pulling the entire ensemble into a coherent, breathtaking whole.
Now, with a face full of expertly applied makeup—shadows that made her eyes look like deep pools of obsidian and a lip tint that felt unnervingly sophisticated—Nancy felt like an alien. A really pretty alien, though.
It was 6:58 PM. The countdown to her heart’s inevitable detonation had begun.
Downstairs, the floorboards groaned under the weight of a man whose emotions were as grand as his facial hair. Vista, Nancy’s father, paced the living room, his magnificent, curled mustache twitching with every frantic breath. When Nancy finally descended the stairs, the sound of her heels clicking against the wood, Vista froze. His eyes, usually sharp and discerning, welled up with a tidal wave of fatherly pride.
"Oh, my dear, sweet rosebud!" her father’s voice cracked from the hallway. He was currently a spectacle of paternal melodrama, clutching a damp handkerchief as if he were mourning the loss of her childhood in real-time. “You’re growing up so fast. Look at you! You’re a princess. I never thought I’d see the day you’d trade oversized t-shirts for... for this. Your mother would be so proud. That red hair styled in waves looks just as good on you as it did on her....”
“Dad, please,” Nancy murmured with a smile, her cheeks flushing beneath the foundation. “I'm glad you feel happy for me, but it’s just a dance. Don’t make it into a Shakespearean tragedy.”
That imposing man's teary-eyed sentimentality evaporated with the suddenness of a lightning strike, as he rolled up his sleeves. “That boy... that hoolingan Ace... I've never liked him. If that thug so much as breathes on you the wrong way, or if he brings you home one second past curfew with so much as a ruffle out of place, he is going to die a slow, agonizing death. My swords are sharpened just in case, Nancy. I’m not joking.”
"Yes, I know, Dad..."
The doorbell chimed—a sharp, crystalline sound that sent a jolt of pure electricity through Nancy’s spine. Her heart didn't just leap; it somersaulted into her throat.
She opened the door, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.
There stood Ace, and Nancy forgot how to breath for a few agonizing seconds.
He had managed to strike the impossible balance between formal elegance and his trademark disheveled aura. He wore a black suit jacket that sat perfectly across his broad shoulders, but beneath it, he had opted for a vibrant red and orange patterned shirt—unbuttoned just enough to reveal the hollow of his throat and sun-kissed beginning of his chest, and notably devoid of anything as restrictive as a tie. His dark hair was still a wild, artful mess of curls, and that crooked, effortless grin was firmly in place.
He was devastating.
Nancy was momentarily robbed of speech. She felt the sudden, desperate urge to hide behind the door, yet she couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight of him.
Am I dreaming?
“Well, well,” Ace drawled, his voice a low, gravelly hum that vibrated in her chest. He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes sweeping over her with a look of genuine, unfiltered appreciation. “The carriage is waiting, Princess."
She found her voice, though it was breathier than she intended. "You look... you actually cleaned up, Ace. I’m impressed."
"I have my moments," he said, stepping closer.
Nancy’s breath caught as he reached into his jacket pocket. With a surprising gentleness, he took her hand and slid a corsage onto her wrist—a single, vibrant blue flower that matched her dress with uncanny precision. Only then did she notice the identical flower pinned to his lapel as a brooch.
“You’ve thought of everything, haven't you?” Nancy managed to say, her voice slightly breathless.
"I have some experience going to proms, I guess," Ace joked, giving her a quick, knowing wink. "I know how the ritual goes."
“A PICTURE! I MUST TAKE A PICTURE!” Vista's voice boomed from the shadows of the hallway, startling them both. He stepped forward with a camera clutched in his trembling hands. “Back up! Both of you! Get close together. I need evidence... I mean, a memento.”
Ace chuckled, pulling Nancy into his side. The heat of his body through the suit jacket was intoxicating. Nancy felt the brush of his arm against hers, a sensation so potent it made her lightheaded. They stood there, blinded by the flash of the camera, a frozen moment of borrowed glamour.
As the flash faded, the man with the moustache stepped toward Ace, pointing a gnarled finger at his chest. “Listen well, Portgas. You have the most precious thing in this house in your care. I have polished my blades this afternoon. If I find out you’ve been anything less than a perfect gentleman, I assure you that you will never walk again. I know where you live. I know your grandfather. Just saying.”
Ace didn't flinch. He simply offered a playful, two-finger salute, his grin widening. “Don’t worry, Mr. Vista. I’ll have Cinderella back before the clock strikes twelve, and I’ll even make sure she keeps both her glass slippers.”
As they walked away, Vista stood on the porch, sobbing, waving his handkerchief and shouting final warnings about the speed limit and the sanctity of his daughter’s honor. Ace opened the passenger door for her with a flourish, the mischievous glint back in his eyes.
"I've always really liked your dad," Ace said, laughing as he climbed into the driver's seat. "He has such a grand sense of humor. Truly, he's the best."
"Yeah... humor. Let's go with that," she sighed, settling into the seat. The electric blue of her dress spilled over the dark interior like a crashing ocean wave.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Ace had swapped his usual bluesy riffs for a cassette of snarling, high-octane punk, the distorted bass rattling the glove box as they sped toward the high school. He hummed along, his fingers dancing a rhythmic, restless pace against the steering wheel to the frantic beat.
A bright laugh escaped Nancy. "I’m serious, Ace! I still find it absolutely incredible that a grown-ass guy agreed to go to a high school ball. You’re such a dork for this."
Ace glanced at her, his eyes flashing with a playful, wicked glint. "Would you prefer that I provide you with the full catalog of 'Luffy’s Brothers' so you can select the one you like best? If you, miss, are not satisfied with the 'Ace Model,' we can always switch to the 'Sabo edition'. I'm sure he’d love to drive across three state lines from his campus just to be your second choice."
Nancy laughed, the sound bright and genuine, and reached over to give his arm a light, playful punch. "Shut up! You know that's not what I meant."
As the tape hissed for a fraction of a second, a legendary, jagged guitar riff tore through the speakers. Nancy perked up. "Wait, I know this. Who are they? The Sex Pistols?"
"Smart girl," he responded, a look of genuine pride crossing his freckled face. "This is Anarchy in the UK."
The song built, the tension in the music coiling like a spring until it finally kicked. Ace, lost in the visceral thrill of the sound, seemed to forget he was driving a car. He began to headbang violently as he tapped out an imaginary, frantic drum kit on the steering wheel.
"IIIIII AAAAM AN ANTICHRIST!" Ace roared at the top of his lungs, punctuating the lyrics by slamming his palm against the wheel. "IIII AAAM AN ANARCHIST!"
In his fervor, the car gave a sudden, violent lurch to the left, crossing the yellow line. The blare of a horn from an oncoming sedan shattered the moment, the sound of the screeching tires echoing in the small cabin.
"ACE!" Nancy screamed, her voice a pitch higher than the music. "THE FUCKING ROAD! LOOK AT THE FUCKING ROAD!"
"Whoops. Sorry. My bad," he muttered, as he yanked the wheel back, the car swerving back into the lane with a sickening sway of the suspension.
Despite Ace’s questionable commitment to road safety, the illuminated facade of Grand Line High eventually appeared through the windshield. The parking lot was a sea of limousines, borrowed family vans, and teenagers in various states of formal disarray.
As Ace killed the engine, the sudden silence felt heavy and profound. Groups of students paused in their tracks as the infamous 'Fire Fist' (known by that name because they say he once punched a guy who was messing with his brother and left his face burning) came to a halt, whispers rippling through the crowd like wind through wheat.
"Is that... Ace?" "Who's he with?" "Is that Nancy?"
Nancy felt the weight of a thousand eyes. Without thinking, she pushed open the door and began to walk toward the gym, her heels clicking nervously against the asphalt.
"Whoa, whoa. Slow down there, speed racer."
The sound of his voice stopped her in her tracks. She turned around to see Ace walking toward her, the light from the gymnasium casting his shadow long across the ground.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" he said, stepping into her personal space, "If we're going to do this, we have to do it properly. You didn't put on that dress to walk in five paces ahead of me."
Ace offered his arm, bending it at the elbow in a gallant, traditional gesture.
"We have a role to fulfill."
Nancy stared at his arm, then up at him, the crimson tide returning to her cheeks with a vengeance. She hesitated, her heart performing a frantic rhythm against her ribs. But then, looking into his steady, encouraging eyes, she took a shallow breath and slid her hand into the crook of his arm.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The high school gym, usually a place of squeaking sneakers and the smell of floor wax, had been meticulously transformed into a ‘Starry Night’ pastiche. Draped swathes of midnight-blue velvet obscured the bleachers, illuminated by thousands of fairy lights that twinkled with a delicate, fragile brilliance, reflecting off the polished hardwood.
Every soul was there, dressed to the nines. Even the teachers had gone to the trouble of dressing in their finest clothes. No one was missing: not even Principal Newgate himself. Neither Coach Mihawk, serious and with his arms crossed, who was having a one-sided conversation with the impatient Professor Crocodile of economics, who kept his eyes glued to his enormous gold watch as if he was dying to get the hell out of that place.
Near the punch bowl, the social hierarchy of the faculty was on full display.
"Nancy! Look at you!" Nami’s voice pierced the din. She sashayed over, her own dress a masterpiece of sleek pastel orange silk, dragging a preening Sanji behind her. She did a dramatic lap around Nancy, adjusting a stray ruffle with practiced flair. "I told you it was destiny. It’s a tragedy my Vivi isn't here to see how radiant her blue dress looks on you. Right, Ace? Doesn't she look like incredible?"
"Incredible doesn't quite cover it," he said, his voice dropping into a low, sincere register that made Nancy’s stomach do a slow, dizzying roll. "She’s definitely the best-looking thing in this gym. Hottest shits in this prom, yes we are."
Is he just saying that? Nancy’s internal monologue screamed, a frantic mix of skepticism and hope. He’s a performer. He knows how to play the part. Don't fall for the script, Nancy. But god, the way he’s looking at me...
Luffy materialized from the crowd like a projectile, nearly upending a tray of cookies as he collided with Ace and Nancy in a crushing embrace. “ACE! NANCE! You guys made it! This is so cool! Ace, did you see the buffet? They have those little hot do—”
Before Luffy could finish his sentence, Nami’s hand shot out, seizing the back of his collar. “Moving along, Luffy! We discussed this. Five seconds are up.”
“But I wanted to show Ace the punch bowl!” Luffy protested as he was dragged away.
“Interfere and die, Luffy!” Nami’s voice drifted back, sharp and final.
Ace turned back to Nancy, his eyes sparking with a familiar, devious light as he surveyed the refreshment table. “Cool! They have punch! You know, back in my day, we had a tradition for these things. What if I just… ”
"Don’t you even think about it, Portgas D. Ace" Nancy interjected, pointing a manicured finger at him. "No vodka this time."
Ace threw his head back and laughed, a rich, vibrant sound that made the nearby sophomores turn in envy. “Caught red-handed. Fine, fine. I’ll be a good boy. Let me at least get us two cups of the non-lethal stuff. Stay right here.”
As soon as Ace’s suit jacket disappeared into the throng, the 'Gossip Trio'—Usopp, Sanji, and Nami—closed in instantly, their faces twisted into masks of frantic, whispered excitement.
Usopp began to mime kissing with his hands as a way of mocking her.
"I am going to kill all of you," Nancy muttered, though she couldn't stop the blush from deepening. "He’s just being nice. It’s a pity-date."
"Pity doesn't look like that," Sanji said, exhaling a plume of smoke (having ignored the 'No Smoking' signs with Gallic indifference). "We saw it. The way he looked at you when you got out of that car... I don't think he's ever looked at you like that before."
"Either you're stupid, or you refuse to realize it", Nami added. "Did you see his face? That wasn't the 'favour-for-Luffy' face. That was the 'Oh-wow-Nancy-is-actually-a-woman' face."
"Code Red! He’s coming back! Scatter!", Usopp then hissed.
As Ace returned with two sloshing cups of neon-pink punch, the group vanished into the crowd with such synchronized speed it was almost supernatural.
"Hey, it's not that bad. It tastes like melted popsicles and tap water." Ace said, handing her a cup.
Confused, the boy then looked around. "Where'd the welcoming committee go?" he asked. But before she could answer, the speakers erupted with a high-energy, drum-heavy beat. Ace’s face transformed, a look of pure, unadulterated joy spreading across his freckles.
"God, I love this song! We are not wasting this beat. Let's go!"
The song was an upbeat, infectious anthem, and, as Ace set his cup down on a nearby table, he grabbed Nancy’s hand, and pulled her toward the center of the floor.
They plunged into the sea of moving bodies, and to her surprise, Ace wasn't trying to be cool or suave. He was being a complete dork. He started doing a ridiculous, exaggerated shimmy, his arms flailing in a way that was half-rockstar, half-toddler-on-sugar.
She looked away for a second, catching Usopp’s eye across the gym. He was leaning against a wall, a smug, supportive smile on his face as he gave her a frantic, double-thumbs-up. Nancy snarled at him, mouthing the words 'Go fuck yourself,' but when she turned back to Ace, the snarl dissolved.
Ace had spun in a small circle, his eyes locking onto hers, his laughter audible over the music. "What are you looking at?"
"What the fuck is that?", Nancy shouted back between laughter. "You're embarrassing me!"
"Good! That’s what I’m here for!" Ace reached out, grabbing both her hands and swinging them in time with the song. "Life’s too short to look cool at Prom, Nancy!"
In that moment, under the spinning disco ball and the watchful eyes of her friends, Nancy stopped thinking about 'favors' and 'pity'.
I don't care if tomorrow I'm just the 'little brother's best friend' again. Right now, I'm the girl he's holding onto. And for tonight, that has to be enough.
After a while of a pop hits DJ session, the disco ball slowed its frantic spin, casting long, lazy flecks of silver across the blue velvet drapes. The first few notes of a melancholic ballad drifted from the speakers—acoustic guitar and a soft piano—and Nancy felt the air leave her lungs.
No. No. No. Fuck.
The moment she had dreaded most that night had arrived.
This was the moment of truth.
"I’ll be honest," he said with a gentle, lopsided smile. "Slow dancing isn’t exactly my thing. But... I think we can try it. If you're game?"
Nancy let out a shaky chuckle, her fingers trembling as she placed her hand in his. "I don't really know what I'm doing, Ace. I’ve mostly just watched movies."
"Me neither, but I vaguely remember the drill. I think I can figure out the mechanics," he murmured. He stepped closer, the heat of him cutting through the cool gym air. "First... I think I'm supposed to do this."
He placed his hand firmly but gently on the small of her back, the silk of Vivi's dress sliding under his palm as he pulled her closer. Nancy’s breath hitched. He took her other hand, interlacing their fingers, and began to move with a slow, swaying rhythm.
"There," he whispered. "One step, then the other. Just follow me. If I accidentally step on you, you have permission to punch me. Don't think about the feet, Nancy. Just... stay here."
Stay here, her mind echoed. As if I could be anywhere else. Her heart was drumming a frantic, irregular beat against her ribs, so loud she was sure he could feel it through the black fabric of his jacket.
As they began to move, the world outside the two of them ceased to exist. The gym, the teachers, the lingering eyes of their friends—it all blurred into a background of static.
"You're actually a pretty good teacher," Nancy said, trying to find her voice through the haze of her own nerves.
"I guess so," Ace replied. He was quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting over her face as if memorizing the way she looked in the blue light.
"It's weird," he added after a moment. "Seeing you like this. Finishing school, the dress, the whole 'senior' thing. When did you guys get so grown up? I feel like last year, you and Luffy were still playing video games in the basement while I went downstairs to steal your sweets."
"Everything changed so fast," Nancy admitted, her voice barely a whisper against the fabric of his lapel. "It’s actually terrifying. Everyone expects me to know who I’m going to be next month. But I have no idea. I’m scared that once I walk across that stage, I’m just going to be... lost. I'm scared of the real world."
Ace was silent for a beat, his hand on her waist tightening slightly as if to anchor her. "Girl, I'm 20 years old, I'm unemployed and I play guitar in a lousy garage band. The real world is overrated. But you? You aren't going to get lost. You’re the smartest person I know. You’ve been the one keeping us all grounded for six years. If anything, the world should be scared of you."
"You think so?" she looked up at him, her throat tight. "I don't know, Ace... Sometimes I feel like I'm stuck between being an adult and being a kid forever."
"You're not a kid, Nancy," Ace countered. "Not tonight. Not for a long while now, if I'm being honest. I see a wonderful woman who’s finally stepping into her own light. And it's almost intimidating, though."
He gave a short, self-deprecating laugh.
"I'm actually glad Luffy was a stupid, traitorous idiot. If he hadn't flaked, I wouldn't be here with you. I'd be at home, probably burning toast and wondering why the house felt so quiet. But here we are, talking like two actual adults.
Nancy’s heart skipped. "You really see me like that? As an adult?"
"I think I’ve been trying not to see it for a while," Ace confessed, his voice dropping to a low, husky rasp. "Because you were always 'little Nance.' I was the 'cool old brother'. But then, I see you like this... and I realize the scenery has changed. I’ve always had fun with you, and I’ve always liked you, but it’s like... our actual moment just finally arrived. We're finally on the same page."
"And what happens on this page?" she whispered, her courage mounting.
"I think we stop pretending I only came here as a favor," he replied softly.
A sudden, heavy silence fell between them, despite the music. The gym seemed to dissolve until it was just two people in a circle of blue light. Ace’s eyes sparkled, mesmerized, a slow, dazed smile spreading across his face. Nancy reached out, her fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt. Beneath it, she felt it—a thrumming, frantic rhythm.
His heart, she realized with a jolt of electricity. It’s beating as fast as mine.
It was a sign. A green light. A voice inside her, loud and clear, told her that if she didn't do it now, she’d spend the next sixty years wondering 'what if.'
Nancy shifted her hands. She let go of his hand and his shoulder, instead gently reaching up to cup Ace's face.
And at that very moment, the girl dared to do what she believed was unthinkable, unreal, only possible in her fantasies.
She kissed him.
It was soft at first, a tentative question asked in the dark. But Ace didn't hesitate. He returned the kiss with a fervor that suggested he had been waiting for this longer as Nancy expected.
She pulled away for a fraction of a second, her brain finally processing the magnitude of what she had just done. Her face turned a shade of red that rivaled Ace’s shirt, and she felt a wave of sudden, dizzying embarrassment. Ace stood there, stunned, his mouth slightly open and his own face flushed.
He let out a short, nervous laugh, shaking his head as if to clear the cobwebs. "Woah," he breathed. "Brave tonight, aren't we, Nancy?"
Nancy panicked, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as she began to stammer. "I'm sorry. I—I shouldn't have... I didn't want to make it weird, I just—"
A sudden second kiss silenced her again before she could even respond. This one was deeper, more passionate, a claim being staked in the middle of the crowded gymnasium. He tilted his head, his hand sliding from her waist to her chin, his fingers caressing her jawline with a tenderness that made her melt. His other arm wound tightly around her back, pulling her flush against him until she could feel every line of his body.
Nancy let out a soft sigh that dissolved between his lips, tasting of dreams, victory, and cheap cherry punch.
The gym doors had finally closed behind them, the lingering scent of floral hairspray and floor wax replaced by the crisp, biting purity of the midnight air. As the final song faded and the "Starry Night" velvet was unpinned from the walls, Ace had leaned into her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "The night’s still young, and I’m not ready to take Cinderella home yet. I know a spot. No teachers, no gossips. Just us."
They had driven away from the neon glow of the school, climbing the winding, narrow roads that led to the cliffs overlooking the coast. Here, the world was silent, save for the rhythmic, distant crash of the waves against the rocks and the soft whistling of the wind through the tall grass. The city lights were a glittering carpet far below, but above them, the sky was an infinite, velvet expanse of constellations.
Now, they were lying side-by-side on the hood of the hatchback, the metal still ticking as it cooled. Nancy’s electric blue ruffles were bunched around her, and Ace had discarded his suit jacket, his patterned shirt unbuttoned even further in the cool night air. Their fingers were interlaced, palm to palm, anchoring them to the earth.
"I still can't believe this is real," Nancy whispered, her voice barely carrying in the vast stillness. "If you told me this morning that I’d be ending the night on a cliffside with you, after... well, everything... I would have told you to go get a psych evaluation."
"Why?", he asked. "Do you really think I don't have a romantic side?
"I didn't think you'd even notice me like that," Nancy admitted, turning her head to look at his profile. The moonlight caught the bridge of his nose and the curve of his smirk. "I thought it was impossible. I saw the girls you dated in high school. They were all... effortless. Badass. They knew how to walk in heels without looking like a newborn giraffe. I figured I was just the kid who hung out with your brother. The one you’d always see as a child."
Ace turned his head, his dark eyes meeting hers. "I must admit, I was slow on the uptake. My feelings didn't hit me like a lightning bolt—it was more like a slow burn. "
He paused for a moment.
“I think it hit me last summer. Remember when you guys came over to our pool and you were shouting at Usopp because he took your towel without permission? You walked up to me, dripping wet and shivering, and asked if I could lend you one... and I just froze. I suddenly forgot my name. You looked so radiant, so incredible, with your wet hair, in that bikini that was so... god. I kept telling myself, 'No, that’s Luffy’s best friend, don't be a creep.'"
Nancy squeezed his hand, her chest aching with a sweet, heavy relief. "You’re a total bonehead, Ace."
"I’ve been told," he joked. He shifted closer, his shoulder pressing against hers. "So, come on. Truth for truth. How long has this 'crush' been going on for you? Since last summer too? Or maybe the summer before?"
Nancy went tomb-silent. She looked back up at the stars, feeling the heat rise to her neck despite the cool breeze. "Oh, god. Do I really have to say it?"
"Hey, fair is fair," Ace teased, nudging her shoulder with his. "Give me the numbers."
She took a shaky breath. "Six years."
Ace’s thumb stopped moving. "Six years? Nancy, you were what... twelve?"
"I went to Luffy's house to work on a literature project," she said, the words tumbling out now that the dam had broken. "I walked into the living room, and you were sitting on the floor with that beat-up guitar, trying to figure out a Nirvana riff. You didn't even look up at first. You just had this look of total focus, and the sunlight was hitting your hair, and I remember thinking... 'Oh. He’s the coolest person on the planet.' I went home and wrote three pages about it in my diary. It had a lock on it and everything."
"Three pages, huh?" he managed to say, shaking his head. "Six years of me being an absolute moron right in front of you. I feel like I should apologize for taking so long to show up to the party."
"It's fine," Nancy grumbled, though her smile was wide and bright. "I've been able to cope with the seven different girlfriends you've had during that time. It gave me a lot of material for my poetry phase."
"Well, for the record," Ace said, shifting his weight and leaning over her. He propped himself up on one elbow, his face inches from hers, silhouetted against the constellations. "I’m glad you didn't give up on the 'coolest person on the planet.' Because I’m pretty sure I’m the luckiest one right now."
He leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was slow, sweet, and tasted of the night air. When he pulled back just an inch, his voice was a low, tender rasp.
"You're adorable, you know that? A diary with a lock. I’m definitely going to have to find that and read it someday."
"Over my dead body, Portgas D. Ace," Nancy whispered, pulling him back down for another kiss.
"We'll see," he murmured against her lips. "There will be time for that later. I've got a lot of lost time to make up for, don't I?"
"I'd say you're off to a good start," she chuckled.
At that very moment, Nancy’s laughter stopped as she felt the gentle touch of Ace’s lips.
His kiss, which had started as a tender promise, shifted into something far more visceral. It deepened, turning heavy and rhythmic, the soft brush of his lips evolving into a wet, hungry demand that Nancy met with an urgency six years in the making.
Her fingers, trembling with a mix of adrenaline and desire, mapped out the familiar yet foreign landscape of his body. She traced the strong cord of his neck, her nails grazing the nape of his hair, before sliding down to the exposed skin of his chest.
Lost in the friction of their tongues and the sheer proximity of him, Nancy felt a surge of boldness. She shifted her weight, hitching her electric blue ruffles up and straddling his lap on the hood of the car. The sudden movement drew a low, guttural groan from Ace’s throat, his large hands immediately finding her waist to steady her, his grip firm and possessive.
Ace eventually pulled back just a fraction of an inch, his eyes dark with a heady mixture of lust and genuine concern. His chest was heaving, his breathing synchronized with hers. He looked at her, really looked at her, his usual playful smirk replaced by a raw, protective intensity.
"Nancy," he rasped, his hands firm on her hips, anchoring her. "Hey, look at me."
She blinked, her lips swollen and her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
"I think I know where this may go. I need to know you’re with me on this," he murmured, his voice thick but incredibly gentle. "I’m not just some guy, and this isn't just... whatever. We can go as far as you want tonight, or we can stop right here and just look at the stars and have a silly chat. I’m just happy to have you next to me, okay? You call the shots."
Nancy looked down at him, seeing the fierce protectiveness in his gaze.
"This is all I've ever dreamed about, Ace," she whispered, her voice surprisingly steady despite her nerves. "I don't want to wait anymore. I’m ready. I want... I want to go all the way with you. I want you."
A slow, tender smile broke across Ace’s face, followed by a look of profound, quiet heat. "Okay," he breathed. "Okay."
He leaned up to kiss her again, but this time it was slower, a promise. His hand began a slow, torturous ascent from her waist, sliding under the hem of the blue silk. Nancy gasped as his palm met the bare skin of her inner thigh, his touch calloused and warm. He moved higher, with agonizing patience, until his hand rested firmly over the silk of her underwear. He watched her face closely, his eyes searching hers for even a flicker of doubt.
"You okay? You still sure?" he whispered, his thumb grazing her skin in a way that made her toes curl.
"Yes," she breathed, arching into his touch. "God, yes, Ace."
"Wait," he said softly, breaking the kiss. He glanced toward the dark windows of the car and back to the empty, wind-swept cliffside. "If we’re doing this properly—if it’s your first time—we’re not doing it on a cold piece of metal."
He slid out from under her and hopped off the hood, reaching out to catch her by the waist and swing her down to her feet. He opened the back door of the hatchback, pushing the front seats forward to create a small, private sanctuary.
"Come here," he said. "I know it's not a hotel, but I'll make sure both of us have fun."
Nancy climbed in first, laying back against the upholstery, and Ace followed her, bracing himself on his elbows as he hovered over her, his weight acomforting, solid presence. Even in the dim light, his eyes were mesmerized. "You look incredible," he murmured, his hand sliding slowly down between her thighs. "Almost too pretty to touch. Almost."
He began with a slow, tortousingly gentle caress against her slick entrance, tracing her folds before making deliberate circles on her throbbing clit. Nancy couldn't help but let out little whimpers and moans, sounds she didn't know she was capable of making. And every sound that came out of her mouth seemed to fuel the fire in Ace's eyes, making his own breathing hitch.
"Tell me if I'm going too fast," he whispered against her skin, his lips brushing her collarbone. "Is this okay? You like this?"
"Yes," she gasped, her eyes fluttering shut. "Please, Ace."
"Please what?" he teased, his lips hovering just above hers, his breath hot, without stopping his motion, gently guiding his fingers to her wet opening, but stopping just short of entering her, just to hear her sigh with anticipation. "You've gotta be specific."
In response, Nancy pouted. “Don't be a jerk. You know exactly what I mean.”
"Want to hear it from you, Princess."
She sighed, feeling a sense of defeat mixed with a thrilling rush of embarrassment. But deep down, she reveled in this game, this delicious torment he was inflicting on her.
"Put your fucking fingers inside of me", she managed to say.
"Good girl," he whispered against her lips, his fingers finally entering her with excruciating gentleness, causing her to let out a loud moan at the exquisite stretch. He watched her face closely, his expression a mix of raw heat and fierce vigilance. "Now let's see if I can give you something new to write about in that diary."
He began to move his fingers inside her, slowly at first, then with increasing confidence as her body responded, her inner muscles clenching around him. His thumb found her clit, pressing and circling in a rhythm that had her writhing beneath him. It was rentless. Delicious. So much Nancy even thought she could get addicted to his fingers.
Even though she knew full well that he still had other parts of his body to use.
Nancy's hands roamed his skin, tracing the hard planes of his back through his shirt before moving down to palm the hard, thick length straining against his pants. She was momentarily intimidated by his size, but the low growl that escaped his lips at her touch was all the encouragement she needed.
It felt a little strange, awkward, but at the same time, Nancy was so intoxicated by the growing dampness—the precum soaking from the tip—of his cock that she couldn't stop stroking it.
"Ah... Fuck, Nancy," Ace groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily into her touch. "You keep doing that and this'll be over before it really starts."
"Well, well. So you prefer me to stop?" she teased, immediantly ceasing her motion with a mischievous grin, though her voice was breathy, laced with a desire she could no longer contain.
Ace let out a low, throaty laugh that vibrated through his chest and into her.
"Oh, you're going to pay for that." He curled his fingers inside her, finding a spongy, sensitive spot that made her cry out, her back arching off the seat. The pace fastened, and that wet sound filled the car, an obscene noise that proved her arousal. "Not so cocky now, huh? How's that feel? You like being filled up like this? You like my fingers stretching your pussy open?"
"Oh—Ace. You bastard," she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders, trying to anchor herself against the tidal wave of pleasure. "God, yes."
"Good," he murmured, his fingers continuing their relentless, expert assault as his free hand moved to the zipper of her dress, deftly undoing it. "Because I've been dreaming about tasting you for a long time."
He shifted positions, spreading her legs wider as he moved down her body, his lips trailing a path of fire down her stomach. Nancy's breath hitched, her heart leaping into her throat as she realized his intentions. Before he could proceed, he paused, looking up at her from between her thighs, his eyes burning with a question.
"You okay with this?" he asked, his voice a low hum of anticipation. "I want to taste you so fucking badly, but only if you're comfortable."
"Get down here, Portgas," she countered, reaching up to pull him by the collar.
Ace's response was a wicked, triumphant grin before he lowered his head, his tongue finding her clit with unerring accuracy.
Nancy cried out, a sharp, broken sound as her hands flew to his hair, her fingers tangling in the dark strands. Waves of almost unbearable pleasure washed over her as Ace began to lick and suck with practiced, devastating skill. His tongue was everywhere—flat and broad, then pointed and precise—lapping at her folds, circling her entrance, and then returning to focus on her pulsing clit. His hands held her hips steady, his grip firm yet gentle as she writhed beneath him, lost to sensation.
"God, you taste even better than I imagined," he murmured against her, his voice a low, intimate vibration that seemed to travel directly through her clit. "So fucking sweet and ready for me. All for me."
Nancy could only moan in response, her mind going blank, every thought consumed by the pleasure he was giving her. The dual stimulation of his tongue and fingers was almost too much, a sensory overload that pushed her higher and higher, her entire body tensing, coiling like a spring.
"Ace," she gasped, her voice high and tight. "I'm going to... I can't..."
"Let go, baby," he encouraged,
his words a muffled, wicked vibration against her swollen, sensitive flesh. "That's it. I want to feel you come on my tongue. Give it to me, Nancy. All of it. Fucking drown me in it. Let me see how good I make you feel."
His permission, his filthy, beautiful command, was the final push. Nancy shattered. A strangled, high-pitched cry ripped from her throat as her orgasm crashed over her, a blinding, all-consuming tidal wave of pleasure. Her back arched violently off the seat, her body a bowstring drawn taut and then released. Her inner muscles clenched rhythmically around his fingers, pulsing, milking them as wave after wave of intense pleasure wracked her body. Ace groaned against her, the sound deep and guttural, as he eagerly drank her down, his tongue tirelessly working her through the spasms, prolonging her ecstasy until she was a trembling, whimpering mess, utterly boneless and spent.
When the tremors finally subsided and she drifted back to earth, panting and dazed, she found Ace grinning up at her from between her thighs, his face slick and glistening with her arousal in the dim light. He looked incredibly smug, incredibly proud, and so fucking turned on it made her ache all over again.
He slowly crawled back up her body, pressing his lips against hers in a deep, possessive kiss that allowed her to taste herself on his tongue. "God, that was the hottest thing I've ever seen," he said, his voice thick and raspy with desire. "You're so fucking beautiful when you come. But I can't hold back any longer. I need to get my dick inside you. Right now."
He shifted slightly, reaching for his wallet on the floor of the car. He pulled out a small foil packet, his fingers surprisingly steady as he ripped it open with his teeth. As he expertly rolled on the condom, he looked down at her, his expression a serious, heated question one last time.
"Final chance to kick me out into the cold," he teased softly, though his eyes were dark with intent. "You sure you're ready for this?"
Nancy met his gaze, her own eyes heavy with lust and a new, tender emotion. A boldness she didn't know she possessed surged through her. "Can you please stop asking, Ace? I told you a thousand times I was okay with it!" she chuckled with tenderness. "Just fuck me already."
Ace smiled, a slight blush on his cheeks. “I'm sorry. It's just that I really like you, and I truly want this to be something special for you.”
He positioned himself between her legs, the thick head of his cock nudging against her still-throbbing entrance. "I'll be gentle at first. Just breathe. Tell me if it hurts, okay?"
Nancy nodded, bracing herself as he began to push into her slowly, carefully. There was a sharp, brief sting as her body stretched to accommodate his impressive size, a foreign, full sensation that made her whimper and tense. Ace froze immediately, his body tense above hers.
"Easy, girl. Breathe," he murmured, his forehead resting against hers. "That's it, you're doing so good, taking me so well. Fucking perfect." He stayed perfectly still, letting her adjust, pressing soft, distracting kisses to her lips, her jaw, her neck. "Such a good girl, taking all of me."
His praise, his gentle dominance, worked like a charm. Gradually, the discomfort faded, replaced by a strange, intense pleasure in the feeling of being so completely filled, so utterly claimed by him. She experimentally shifted her hips, and a jolt of pure electricity shot through her.
"Okay?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding still. "You okay for me to move?"
"Okay," she breathed, a small, sly smile playing on her lips. "More than okay. Move, Ace. Go ahead."
His eyes darkened with a primal heat. "Careful what you wish for, princess."
Ace began to move, slowly at first, withdrawing almost completely before sliding back in, each stroke deliberate and deep, stretching her, filling her completely. The confined space of the car made their movements awkward but intensely intimate, the sound of their breathing and the slick slap of flesh meeting flesh filling the small sanctuary.
"Fuck," he groaned against her neck, his voice a low growl. "You feel incredible. So goddamn tight and perfect. You like it when I fuck you hard? When I pound this tight little cunt?"
"Oh, Ace," she gasped his name, her nails digging into the muscles of his back, urging him on. Nancy cried out his name again and again from pure pleasure, savoring every letter, letting her voice revel in every second of it. She couldn’t believe she was finally moaning the name of the boy she liked, right there beside him, lost in his eyes, his skin, his warmth, his body.
Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him deeper, wanting more. The car windows began to fog up completely, sealing them in their own private, steamy world as their bodies moved together in a frantic, desperate rhythm.
"Oh god, that face, Nancy. You're gonna be the death of me, I swear," he grunted, his thrusts becoming more powerful, more demanding.
"You gonna come for me again?" he taunted, his voice rough with exertion. "You gonna soak my cock this time? I want to feel it. Come on, Nancy, look at me. Don't you dare take your eyes off me."
Nancy forced her eyes open, meeting his intense, burning gaze. The raw emotion and desire she saw there was her undoing. That, combined with the relentless stimulation of his thick cock hitting that perfect spot over and over, sent her hurtling over the edge again.
Her second orgasm tore through her, even more powerful than the first. Her entire body seized up, a white-hot explosion of pleasure that radiated from her core out to every limb. Her pussy clamped down around him like a vice, pulsing and milking his length as a gush of wetness soaked him.
"I'm... I'm gonna... Oh, Nancy." Ace mumbled, his control finally snapping. He thrust into her once, twice more, hard and deep, before his own orgasm overtook him. He buried his face in her neck with a raw, choked groan, his body shuddering violently as he emptied himself into her, his hips jerking erratically as he rode out his release.
They collapsed together in a tangled, sweaty heap, the only sound in the car their harsh, ragged pants as they struggled to catch their breath. The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, a heady, primal perfume. After a long moment, Ace shifted, carefully easing his weight off her pulling out, taking off the condom and and tying a knot in it.
He pressed soft, gentle kisses against her forehead, her temple, the corner of her eye, his skin sliding against hers with a soft, tacky sound that made Nancy’s face heat up all over again.
"Jesus Christ," Nancy whispered, her voice barely audible, her limbs feeling like they were made of jelly. "You... you're trying to kill me."
Ace let out a soft, breathless laugh, nuzzling her neck. "Not yet, princess," he teased, his voice a low, contented rumble.
"I can't believe this actually happened," she whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "You're much more gentle thank I expected".
“Hey, I can be a gentleman when the stakes are high,” he teased, though he squeezed her waist a little tighter. “And you… God, Nancy. I didn’t know you were that loud. I think I think the people in town can hear you from down below the cliff.”
"Ace!" she chirped, even if she was still smiling.
“What? It’s a compliment,” he grinned, his eyes sparkling with that familiar, mischievous glint. “It means I was doing my job right."
Ace leaned down, kissing her forehead with a lingering sweetness.
"Damn, I like you. I really, really like you so much, Nancy. I want to be be stucked up with you here forever."
Nancy beamed, her heart swelling with a joy so intense it rivaled the pleasure from moments before. She opened her mouth to reply, but her gaze inadvertently flickered toward the green glow of the digital clock on the dashboard.
1:30 AM.
The silence that followed was deafening. Both of them froze, the blood draining from their faces in synchronized terror.
“Oh, no,” Nancy whispered, her eyes wide with a sudden, sharp realization.
“Fuck,” Ace choked out, his voice dropping an octave. “Your old man's gonna kill me for sure.”
Nancy bit her lip, a wave of genuine anxiety washing over her. "He’s going to kill us. He’s going to kill you, and then he’s going to lock me in the basement until I’m thirty."
Ace stared at the clock for another three seconds, looking like he was calculating his odds of surviving a duel with a master swordsman. Then, to Nancy’s utter disbelief, he started to laugh—a low, helpless chuckle that turned into a full-blown grin.
“What is wrong with you?” she hissed, trying to untangle her dress ruffles. “He’s going to turn you into a kebab!”
"You know what?" he said, leaning over and caught her by the waist, pulling her in for one last, hard kiss.
"I’d take on a hundred Vistas just for this."
