Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to the song that features at the top of the story. This one-shot (and name) was inspired by Lana Del Rey's Blue Jeans. I've always thought this song reminded me of Ace. Actually tons of her songs remind me of Ace. Listen to this song, Video Games and Summertime Sadness, they're perfect for any Ace romance!

Author's note: It's that time of year again for a one-shot. The sun's shining and it put me in the mood for writing and I've had this idea in my head for a while lol. This is an Ace/Oc fic, it just occurred to me now that I didn't write his name once in the story, what the heck! It's a pretty short story but I hope you like it, I kinda wanted to go with the vibe of the song hopefully I managed it. Also there's no dialogue in this just narrative. I wanted to push myself since I really struggle with narrative lol.

There's a possibility that this story could have other chapters, different stories, but a place to put my Cobra one-shots in.

Reviews would be really awesome and appreciated :D

Enjoy!

Blue jeans, white shirt.
Walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn
- Lana Del Rey.

His piercing blue eyes hit the back of my neck - icy cold and razor sharp - just enough to knock me off of my feet. I turned around and our eyes met, it was like he reached into my soul and snatched it, and the worse thing of all is that I let him.

Straight away we clicked and I was hooked.

Every Friday night, for months, he'd show up at the bar I worked behind. At the end of my shift we'd leave together and take a ride in his car.

Dangerously accelerating down the highway, with the wind through my hair and the world at our feet, not knowing if we were heading straight into a violent collision with the vehicles passing by. It was an adrenaline rush, sending my body into flight-or-fight, and with his strong arm around my shoulder he made me fight.

He made me feel special, like I was the only girl in town that was good enough for him to have his arm around, until he walked in the bar with another girl wrapped around him. But she wasn't the only girl, every week there was a new one.

I told myself I was different - that he loved me - that he didn't look at those other girls like the way he looked at me.

He'd whisper in my ear and tell me nobody could pour a Jack Daniels and Coke like the way I could. And for weeks that was enough, until I found out he'd said it to half the girls who worked at the bar.

All I could do was stand back and watch him charm everyone that circled around, like he had done me.

And yet I still left with him every Friday night. I'd lock up the door and start to walk home, he'd pull up in his car and purr my name and I'd hop in.

He'd stay the night at my place and I'd get up early and cook breakfast.

Wearing his shirt I'd fix up my hair and he'd watch me get dressed.

He'd eat half of the food, come over and whisper sweet nothings in my ear and then leave.

Soon he stopped coming around and I found out he had got caught up in a heist-gone-wrong. So he skipped town and I wished he had taken me with him.

A year later I met a guy - like a whirlwind - we married three weeks later and I was pregnant not long after.

When I was working I watched the door, just in case he ever came back to town and stopped by. Would he even remember my name?

I was six months pregnant and cleaning the bar when the door opened and he stepped in.

Our eyes met.

It was a split second but it felt like a million years.

His eyes looked down at my stomach, his eyebrows raised, slightly, and he smirked before walking to an old friend at table nine.

I couldn't help but watch him.

The way he stood, proud and upright.

The way he lit a cigarette.

The way he stared at the girl across the room... icy cold and razor sharp.