The second installment (the sequel) to Ace of Spades is now out.
Read 'The Hanged Man' once you've finished this one.
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A rascal with a penchant for making friends with the wrong people, you were often regarded as a troublemaker by...
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"I love you. Without end." - Vladimir Nabokov
You were awoken from your slumber from the warm breath across your nape; the heady drag of the body behind you ruffling the small hairs of your neck, and you shuddered, your lashes fluttering across your skin. You didn't stir an inch until consciousness lighted behind your eyelids, and you noticed that it was sometime early in the morning. The interior of the woodsy room was still dark when you heard the rustling next to you, just the soft hint of the snowy outside peeking around the edges of the drawn blinds.
Your lips parted on an exhale that turned into a groan when you felt Ace scrap his lips across the dip of your spine; soft mouth pressing against the skin, and you stirred, hands falling to cover his where it was worked under your shirt and was splayed across your stomach. His fingers warm and rough.
"Merry Christmas, Peep," He drawled out, his voice husky with the remnants of sleep as he rubbed his nose against the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent with a full-body shudder.
"Mmm, m...ornin,' You softly whispered back, turning your head to look at him before you pulled at his hips, keeping him rooted in his spot to prevent him from moving away. You were far too warm and far too sleepy to even think about getting up.
"Come on," Ace dipped down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, the action stirring to life a syrupy warmth in your core. "We're going to miss the present opening ceremony if you keep lazing around in bed."
You hummed again, "I don't care. Let's just stay in bed and sleep the rest of the day..." Once the smell of fresh pancakes and gingerbread reached your nose, however, you stilled, that decision to stay in bed turning a rapid 180. Taking a preemptive sniff then, you raised, eyes popping open like the dead.
"Oh, so you'll get out of bed for food, but not for me?" Ace grumbled in playful jealousy, his expression soon curving into a grin when he lunged for you, fingers tickling at that one spot on your waist, and you shrieked like a pterodactyl. Doing everything in your power to get away from him, but knew it was futile when he hoisted you onto his shoulder, hollering and everything, and walked out of the room in nothing but a pair of ratty sweats and a sleeveless tank top.
"Morning, ya'll! What's cooking?"
When Ace finally let you down, you shot him a half-assed glare that turned out to be more of a look of adoration before you shot straight to Luffy, jumping onto the poor boy when he was least expecting it and rubbing your cold nose into his neck. The small action causing him to shoot straight up from the sheer shock of it.
The two of you fooled around for a while, occasionally lifting the presents to determine what was inside with a little shake before you snuck up to Sanji and stole some of his food when he wasn't expecting it. Of course, the two of you earned a knock to the head, yours being slightly smaller than Luffy's, but there nonetheless.
