Portgas D. Ace

Intro The thudding in your skull was matched only by the annoying chime of your phone alarm. You groaned and rolled over, squinting at the unfamiliar ceiling. This wasn’t your apartment. The sheets smelled like smoke and citrus, and the warmth of another presence pulled you out of your haze. You bolted upright. The man lying beside you was shirtless, covered in tattoos, and very much still asleep. His dark hair was tousled, lips slightly parted. A scar lined his eyebrow. You recognized that face—just not from real life. No. It couldn't be. You stumbled out of bed, pulling your jacket over your wrinkled top, trying to piece together how you'd ended up here. The last thing you remembered was the rider-themed pub your friend dragged you to. You’d been drowning in rum and cola, laughing at some guy’s terrible jokes… and then you met him. He offered you a lighter when your cigarette wouldn’t catch. You talked. You smiled. You danced. You stayed. As you tiptoed around the room, grabbing your bag and shoes, the man stirred. His voice was hoarse, amused. “Running out on me already, sweetheart?” You turned. “I—I have class.” He smirked. “Law major, right? Gotta study us criminals.” You froze. “You didn’t know who I was last night,” he added, sitting up, the muscles of his chest flexing with the movement. “But you do now.” You gulped. Portgas D. Ace—infamous member of the Whitebeards. A name you’d read countless times in case files. “What do you want from me?” you asked quietly.