𖥔 SICKEN IN LOVE ⤷ Portgas D. Ace x Fem!reader ⋮ Ace isn’t clingy… until he can’t cuddle you.
𖥔 HAPPY BIRTHDAY ⤷ Portgas D. Ace x Fem!reader ⋮ The 1th January arrive, you choose ace before anyone else.
𖥔 DRUNK KISS ⤷ Portgas D. Ace x Fem!reader ⋮ Ace got drunk and ask for a kiss you can't say no too, what will be the consequence though….?
𖥔 SECRET SANTA ⤷ Portgas D. Ace x Fem!reader
⋮ ⌗ ┆ASL BROTHERS
𖥔 BREAKING UP ? ⤷ Yandere!ASL Brothers x Fem!reader ⋮ What would happens if you break up with the ASL Brothers ??
𖥔 LOVERS ⤷ Yandere!ASL Brothers x Fem!reader ⋮ How the ASL brothers would act as a yandere lover
─────── ─────── ───────
.ᐟ.ᐟ DR.STONE
⋮ ⌗ ┆FANFIC
𖥔 THE STARS LOOK DIFFERENT AROUND YOU ⤷ Kohaku x fem!scientist!reader ⋮ kohaku sees herself having feelings for a person... but this person is a woman, is that a problem or not?
𖥔 HEADCANONS ⤷ Dr.Stone x gn!reader
𖥔 HEADCANONS ⤷ Dr Stone x Gn!Reader ⋮ reader just received the news of having a chronic illness and the Dr.stone characters is there for you
𖥔 HEADCANONS ALONE ⤷ Kohaku x Reader
𖥔 HEADCANONS ALONE ⤷ Ryusui Nanami x Reader
𖥔 LOVE TRIANGLE ⤷ Senku x Fem!Mathematician!Reader x Kohaku ⋮ kohaku has feelings for Senku, but he has feelings for you, and you have feelings for kohaku. A perfect love triangle…
𖥔 HEADCANONS ⤷ Five wises generals x Reader ⋮ the five wises generals comfort you after you told the safeword in bed.
𖥔 HEADCANONS ⤷ Dr Stone x Reader ⋮ In which reader got social anxiety and the Dr.stôe characters are here for you
𖥔 HEADCANONS ⤷ Dr.Stone x Reader ⋮ How the characters would react to the Reader catching the bouqet at Taiju & Yuzuriha's Wedding
⋮ ⌗ ┆SMAU
𖥔 ASKING CHARACTERS OF DR.STONE IF THEY WOULD STILL LOVE YOU AS A WORM
⤷ PART 2 OF IT
𖥔 ARGUMENT WITH CHARACTERS OF DR.STONE
⤷ SOLVED ARGUMENT
𖥔 TWITTER SMAU
─────── ─────── ───────
.ᐟ.ᐟ TWINKLING WATERMELON
𖥔 HEADCANON ⤷ Cheong-Ah x Fem!reader
𖥔 SLEEPOVER ⤷ Cheong-Ah x Fem!reader ⋮ in which Cheong-ah spends the night at Y/N’s house to escape her stepmother.
─────── ─────── ───────
.ᐟ.ᐟWEAK HERO CLASS
⋮ ⌗ ┆AHN SUHO
𖥔 HEADCANONS ⤷ Ahn Suho x Fem!reader
⋮ ⌗ ┆GO HYUNTAK
𖥔 HEADCANONS ⤷ Go Hyuntak x Fem!reader
─────── ─────── ───────
.ᐟ.ᐟ ACTORS
⋮ ⌗ ┆CHA WOOMIN
𖥔 ENNEMIES TO LOVERS ⤷ Cha-Woomin x Fem!reader ( Added some OC in it )
GUYS, GUESS WHO'S GOING TO HAVE A LIP PIERCING TODAY BECAUSE IM LEGALLY AN ADULT THAT CAN DO WHATEVER THEY WANT???
ME.ᐟ.ᐟ (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)
I’m so fucking scared to be honest, what if they messed it up?? Or it get infected!! WORSE MY LIPS ARE SWELLING SO MUCH THAT EVERYONE WILL MAKE FUN OF ME ｡°(°¯᷄◠¯᷅°)°｡
Plss if u take reqs can u do a miks one where they basically training 1v1 without gun jst pure physical fighting and then doing some yudo bs and pins reader down or the other way around and Miks ACCIDENTLY uses his vibration radiant powers on a fortunate place and yk where the rest goes :3
1 vs 1 [NSFW]
Miks (Valorant) x F!Reader
"Ljubav mean my love."
"Andēle means angel."
Warnings: Porn with Plot, not accurate physical fights, smut, bad use of installations, rough sex, creampie, marathon sex, overstimulation, choking, bad use of radiant powers, fingering, Miks being slightly obsessive, unrequited love (because is fun). [If I'm missing a warning, let me know!]
Miks is eager when he requests your presence at the gym earlier that morning, hand intertwining with yours and rocking them as he grins innocently; he’s got that twinkle in his eyes that screams nothing but trouble, but you are too distracted by his cute expression to figure out his real intentions.
Unable to reject him, you nod slowly, seeing his grin get bigger before he leans down to kiss you on the lips, smiling into your mouth with a pleasant sigh, before he bids you goodbye.
“Three in the afternoon, ljubav!” he reminds you, waving at you as his silhouette disappears down the corridor.
You blissfully wave at him, just happy to have seen him, but still drowsy with sleep and basking in the warmth of the cup of tea between your fingers.
“He really is energetic, even in the mornings.” Iso states next to you, raising a brow. You nod with a quiet sigh, unable to hide the fond smile stretching your lips.
“You have no idea.”
Iso hums, sipping his coffee. His lilac eyes observe you for a moment before continuing, “You can say no to his shenanigans, you know?”
Blinking owlishly, you cock your head to the side, “What do you mean?”
The grip on his mug tightens imperceptibly, “If you don’t want to do anything that might be straining or bothersome, you are allowed to say no. Doesn’t matter if it’s your partner.” he says after a moment, not looking at you. “I wouldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to do, if I were him.” he adds as an afterthought.
“I usually go with the flow,” you reply mindlessly, grinning sleepily. “I don’t really mind, so don’t worry.”
The meaning behind his words are lost to you, too confused to process them correctly. Unaware of how affected Iso seems to be with your answer, you down your tea in one go to get ready for the day, and for whatever is in store for you.
“Thanks for the company, Iso,” your hand squeezes his shoulder, smiling at him. “See you later.”
Iso looks like he wants to say something else, reaching out a hand at you, but the words get stuck on his throat. Deflated and disappointed, he sees you walking away, impotent to his own repressed emotions and incapable of saying what he feels.
The rest of your morning goes by slowly, much to your dismay. Since missions have been assigned already, and most of the agents have left the facility to fulfill them, there really isn’t anything nor anyone to kill the time with. Miks has refused to see you before the meeting time for no apparent reason, so with none of your friends and no boyfriend to hang out, the only thing to do left was to…train.
The corridors are silent and eerie when you walk through them to reach the training ground to shoot a couple bots and practice your rifle aiming.
When you get bored, you tend to the few guns without maintenance in the room, cleaning the chamber of bullets and reloading most of them before hanging them in their place.
After most of your activities are done, the time to meet Miks approaches.
The loose pants and shirt you’re wearing might be the best fit for whatever your boyfriend wants to do, if he has requested meeting you at the gym out of all places, so you hope it is nothing too strenuous because you were starting to get slightly fatigued.
Perhaps he’s looking for company to train, or rather someone to hype him up as he does his sets. You have heard from Clove that he likes knowing there are people around him, always in company in some sort of way, as they hype each other up while exercising.
It’s cute, but makes you wonder why he would feel the need to request it so obnoxiously rather than being direct with you. Because if what he looks for is company, you can surely offer such a thing without a hitch.
“You have come, ljubav!” Miks greets you from across the room, waving an arm. His smile is contagious, and you can't help but mirror his expression as you approach to greet him with a peck on his lips.
“You asked me to come,” you remind him, hands resting on his chest. He is wearing a compression shirt instead of his usual orange hoodie, the clothing shaping his silhouette nicely and favoring him immensely. “And this fit, Adrijan? Is it new?”
He coughs, smiling with a slight flush on his cheeks, “Oh! Um, yeah? Do you like it?”
“You look very handsome.” you admit with a nod, caressing his cheek. “Is this the reason you wanted to see me here?”
“Erm, sort of?” he laughs bashfully, scratching the back of his head. He avoids your gaze, blush deepening, “I’m…well…”
Raising an eyebrow, you search for his eyes, “What is it?
Miks breathes shakily, holding your hands between his, “Would you mind…training me?”
“Training you?” you repeat the question, flabbergasted. That was unexpected. “I’ve seen you shoot your gun, and you are so much better than I could ever be. Why would you need my help?”
“Okay, first of all, that’s a lie. We all are good with the guns,” he smooches your lips to land the compliment better. “Second of all, I mean physical training. One on one combat, you know? You are the best amongst all, ljubav, please.”
“I mean, sure,” you shrug. “But why now?”
He sighs, “Oh, baby, do you know how many times I’ve run out of bullets, and so did my enemy, and we had to go to literal fists and knives and I’ve lost!?”
Holding back a laugh, you shake your head. The smile you try to cover up is noticeable enough for Miks to realize his plight has become a joke to you.
“Don’t laugh at me,” pouting, he pulls you closer, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Rolling your eyes, you brush through his brown hair, scratching the scalp gently. “It’s embarrassing. Sage has admonished me already every time she has to revive me and I don’t want to keep abusing her powers when she is so weak. Please, train me.”
“Okay, sweet boy, you don’t have to beg.” kissing his lips one more time, you grab his hand and pull him towards the open space in the gym. “C’mon, we can start warming up and then go over the basics.”
When the training begins, you can see the reason why Miks lost so many fights prior today. For someone who has flawless coordination and perfect timing, Miks gets so lost in that perfect beat that when something doesn’t align with excellency throws him off.
You both have dummy knives for the practice, stances ready as you both seize each other quietly—Miks has to admit he can barely concentrate with the confident expression in your face, it makes you look so attractive he has to slap his cheeks a few times to ground himself.
You are toying with the knife, twirling it between your fingers while watching Miks’ expression twist into something more focused.
It’s easy to read his movements, calculated and repetitive, he doesn’t change the pacing nor the timing of his attacks and in less than a minute you have taken his knife, twisting his arm behind his back and your own knife threatening to cut his neck.
“You play it too safe, Adrijan.” you whisper in his ear. He shudders, panting when you apply more pressure. “Read your enemy movements before they do, act on instinct, not on what you rehearse.”
“I can’t—”
“Yes you can,” you cut him off, letting him go and throwing his knife back at him. “You count your steps, you count how many times you shift from one side to the other before attacking. Every move you are taking is measured and predictable.”
You take distance, twirling the knife in your hand again. Miks recomposes rapidly, assessing the situation with quiet mumbles and taking into account what you’ve said to him. It’s not like he doesn’t understand what you mean, but applying a disharmony into his movements doesn’t feel right nor organic.
“I can see the smoke coming out of your ears, Adrijan,” you say with a huff of laughter, smiling fondly at him. “Let’s try something, yeah? Bring a new beat. Surely you must have lots in storage in that gorgeous brain of yours, hm?”
He blushes at your praise, clearing his throat and nodding. Shaking the slight tremble in his arms, he narrows his eyes before jumping at you.
His movements are more erratic and less quicker than before, it’s clear he’s now thinking about his actions before acting on them, which is good but obviously slows him down. But even then, you have a hard time trying to follow his movements as you deflect his attacks.
Miks grunts as you kick the knife from his hand with a quick rotation on your axis, smirking to yourself now that you’ve disarmed him again.
In the heat of the moment, Miks lunges at you with a growl. Your knife flies through the air trying to stop him, but your back hits the mat with a resounding thud that takes your breath away. When you open your eyes, you realize you're trapped between your boyfriend's arms, with him breathing deeply as he watches you intently.
With the back of his hand he gently strokes your cheek, lips slightly parted as he gets lost in your gaze. You see him lean in slowly, closing his eyes, and just inches away from kissing you until—
His world turns around in a second, back hitting the mat so sudden it leaves him stunned.
You climb onto him, lips stretching into a smirk while holding both of his hands above his head. Miks gulps nervously, trembling slightly under your gaze and touch and gasping when you lean down, inches away from his lips.
“You are getting distracted.” you mutter with a glare. “Or do you kiss every person you fight?”
“I’d never!” he defends himself, putty in your hands, “You are just so pretty, baby.”
You frown, lips turning downwards, “Adrija—”
“You are, ljubav.” he cuts you off. “So, so pretty.”
Huffing under your breath, you stand to your full height before helping him on his feet. Miks avoids your gaze momentarily, trying to compose himself before reaching for the dummy knives and handing out yours.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to come.” he says defeatedly.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you are too distracting!” he whines. “I try to focus, but I really can’t when you look so pretty.”
The stoic expression on your face freezes him on the spot. Miks laughs nervously, not knowing what to say with your silence. He sees you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, and the anxiety starts to take root in the pit of his stomach.
You look beyond upset, angry at his words and for not taking you seriously, even more when he was the one requesting your help from the beginning.
“Am I a joke to you?”
Miks blinks, stunned. He opens his mouth slightly, caught off guard, “W-What?”
“Do you think any of the Omega agents are going to hesitate just because you are ‘handsome’?” you ask, making quotations with your fingers. “Do you think my counterpart is going to hesitate just because you are my boyfriend?”
“T-That’s not what I mean—”
“Stop,” you cut him off. “Your flattery or excuses won’t work. This is not something you can fix with words so easily now, Miks.”
Miks flinches, biting his lower lip and absconding both of his hands behind his back like an admonished child.
He means to apologize, breaching the gap between you two in tentative steps, but your glare stops him from coming closer. Miks sees you ready your stance, knife held tightly between your fingers, angry lines morphing your expression, and motioning him to take place.
“Fight me.” You say through clenched teeth.
“Ljubav, no, I’m sorry—”
With an enraged scream, you lunge at him full speed. He backs away, avoiding a slash going for his throat, and finds footing before starting to defend himself from your onslaught. You are rough with your movements, each action taken on purpose and with a goal to make.
A heavy punch lands on his stomach, making him stumble backwards, then goes a strong slash against his left arm simulating an injury, one kick to his sides that leaves him gasping for air; you are relentless.
Miks has to start fighting back this time before you end up fucking him up and hurting him. He deflects your attacks as best as he can, and tries to land some on you when it seems you are catching your breath or with the guard down.
It’s clear you look fatigued and tired, giving out your best to not disappoint and to land the point that you can be taken seriously, even in training. Miks didn’t want to offend you, it was never his intention to begin with.
“Is that the best you can do?” you snarl, taking some distance. Miks heaves heavy gulps of air, cleaning a few stray beads of sweat gathering on his temple, shaking his head, “Show me, then!”
Miks pivots sharply on one foot when you stop a few feet away from him, and in a sudden burst of force, he sweeps a low kick into your legs, striking just behind the knees. The impact knocks your balance out instantly, stumbling backwards with flailing limbs for stability until your back slams hard against the matter floor with a heavy thud.
The air is knocked out from your lungs, gasping in pain as numbness spreads on your lower back. Miks’ victorious smirk wipes out when he sees you writhing in discomfort on the floor, head thrown back and taking big gulps of air.
He worriedly extends his hand to you, “Baby, I’m so sorry—”
You grab his hand and pull him forward, making him stumble and fall. He scratches his arms on the mat trying to avoid putting his whole weight on top of you, wincing when your arms secure around his neck to keep him in place and your legs tangle with his.
Miks jumps in surprise, fighting to free himself from your iron grip, but ends up rolling onto his side while pulling you in. You twist in your place, tightening the hold on his neck until you have him in a headlock and both legs imprisoning his left leg.
“What the fuck!?” he gasps, hands gripping your arm. “Let go!”
“No!”
Miks’ legs go around your left one, and an arm goes around your mid-section to start pushing you away. You don’t hesitate to choke him as retaliation, too stubborn to give in and still holding the grudge from the small argument from before.
It comes to the point you are not even doing this to teach him a lesson, but more as vengeance for hurting your pride. Miks gasps, fingers twitching around the arm on his neck, suddenly feeling light-headed and panic takes hold of his senses.
Everything after happens in quick succession.
The pressure and lack of oxygen, plus the compromising position you two are in, causes him to act on a fright and to grasp the closest thing to him to ground himself from collapsing.
Your thighs are the victim of his reaction, both of his hands digging into the inner part and close to your core. In the midst of it, and without his gloves, his radiant powers are unleashed and his whole palm sends shockwaves of vibrations through the limbs.
“Oh, fuck—” you let go of him, grabbing onto his shoulder. Your legs shake around his thigh, bucking your hips harshly when he doesn’t stop. “A-Adrijan!”
“I’m sorry!”
Miks frees you, untangling his legs from yours while his face bursts into color. He raises his hands in submission trying to get away from you and give you space, but your hold on his hips stops him from even moving an inch. Your hands go around his neck, pushing him against the mat, and you rock against him once, body shivering when you feel his length pulsating under his clothing.
“Ljubav,” he gasps, narrowing his eyes, eyes shining under the dim light of the gym. “w-what—”
Fingers dig into his neck, cutting off his airflow, and enhancing the ecstasy when you start grinding your clothed pussy with eagerness.
“You asshole,” you gasp, rolling your hips. Miks hands fly to your ass, helping you with the movement and relishing in the sensations. “Argh—fuck, y-you did this on purpose.”
His answers come in the form of snapping hips, pulling you closer and grinding harder. His length hardens inside his briefs, and the pleasure coursing his veins heightens with the deprivation of oxygen on his brain. It doesn’t hurt, you know where to put pressure to make him lightheaded in the best way possible, and he’s enjoying himself quite a lot.
This is not the punishment he thought he’d get after upsetting you accidentally, but he ain’t complaining.
Miks whimpers your name at one specific roll of your pelvis, the weight on the head of his dick sends shivers down his spine and any attempt to speak goes out the window. He’s drooling by now, choked out moans escaping his lips as you keep dry humping with no means of stopping.
“I’ll forgive you,” you begin, slowing your movements. The hand around his neck lightens the hold, giving him more leeway to breathe, “if you take care of me now.”
He nods desperately, cleaning the spit on his face with the back of his hand. His face is sweaty from the lack of oxygen and the many lustful emotions clouding his brain—Miks looks way too happy to oblige your request, forgetting all about the previous argument for this moment of reprieve and intimacy.
When you free him completely, Miks sits up to crash his lips against yours in a kiss. He kisses you with urgency, tongue shoving inside your cavity and the slide of mouths growing deeper and more desperate with every passing moment. Your hands get lost in his brown curls, tugging them by the roots to control his excitement, but futile as he keeps whimpering and chasing after you despite the delicious pain.
In a moment of desperation, he grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head. Next goes your bra, flying behind him to join your shirt, and leaving you bare for his hands to start fondling your chest shamelessly.
His lips latch onto your right breast, tongue licking around the nipple before he starts sucking enthusiastically. You wail in pleasure, closing your eyes and pulling him closer to your chest as the pleasure travels to your core in pleasant waves. Miks is whining, suckling wetly, and cheeks tinted in red. His hardening cock twitches with a stroke of your hips, both chasing after the feeling when you feel it between your folds.
Miks lays you down on the mat, freeing your nipple with a loud pop before sucking on the other with the same thirst. Your legs round his hips, dragging him closer, and panting his name over and over when his teeth grazes the sensitive skin.
He pulls your pants and underwear slowly, heaving against your skin as he kisses and licks his way up. His teeth graces the juncture between your shoulder and your neck, rising goosebumps as your back arches against his tender touch when his fingers trail from your navel to your stomach, up and up until his hands cups your breasts again and his thumb rolls over your sensitive nipples.
He hums a gentle tune as he bites softly, sucking on the damp skin until you feel a bruise starting to form. Miks giggles to himself, satisfied after he leaves a couple more hickeys as his mark seared onto your body.
But it’s not enough. Is never enough for him.
“May I?” he whispers in your ear, biting the earlobe gently and then peppering your cheek with kisses. You can’t help but giggle, ticklish and weak as his fingers dig into your sides and caress it lovingly.
“You can,” you hold his face, looking into his dark green eyes with a smile on your face. “I’m completely yours.”
Miks sighs, smitten to the core, and gives a long kiss to the palm holding his face.
His lips travel slowly, mapping out every inch of your skin while your fingers play with his tousled hair, scratching his scalp gently.
Lips kiss each erected nipple in your chest, sucking and tongue twirling on the left bud. Your back bends slightly, sighing his name while Miks takes his time enjoying the taste and roughness on his paladar.
His hands part your legs as he accommodates between them, breath hovering over your core and eyes locking onto your wet pussy. You see him lick his lips before diving and devouring your slickness as a starved man, tongue prodding between the folds gently and tip teasing your nub so precisely your legs spams between his head.
You thrash under his ministrations, gasping for air when his lips sucks on your clit and teeth graze the sensitive skin around. Your hand gets lost in his brown curls, pushing his head and bucking your hips against his eager mouth eating you out.
“Adrijan~” you moan, head thrown back, grinding your pelvis. He hums, his wet muscle flicking over your clit repeatedly as his arms wrap around your thighs to open you up more. “A-Adri, please.”
“What do you need, anđele?” he mutters, eyes locking onto your expression. “I’ll give you anything you want.”
Gasping, you feel his fingers prod your entrance but never putting them in, making you all the more eager to be filled. Your walls spams around nothing, and the coil starting to form in your belly gets tighter the more he prolongs his teasing, riling you up.
“I want your cock, Adrijan, please.”
Your voice melts his heart and sends all the blood flowing down his dick. It twitches in his pants, hard as rock and sensitive when he grinds against the floor.
“Hmmm, are you sure that’s what you want?” he asks innocently, giving your clit a long drag of his tongue. “I really love my stay here.”
Whining, you nod rapidly, brain clouding with lust when he sucks again, pleasure building up fast and racking your body, “Fuck, I need you, please.”
Miks laughs, kissing the nub once and letting go of your thighs. He sits between your legs, pulling down his pants and underwear to free his member from its confines. It lands heavy on your pussy, pre-cum smeared over the tip and veins prominent on the sides of his shaft.
Biting your lips, you gaze at his flushed erect cock with desire. He smirks confidently at your reaction, pulling his compressing shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. His slender but toned body is covered by a thin layer of sweat as he stretches his arms above his head, leaning in and capturing your lips in a deep kiss.
His pelvis aligns with yours, length sliding between your folds as he starts to grind roughly, stimulating your clitoris. You deepen the kiss, moaning into his mouth and tongues intertwining as the kiss grows in intensity and passion, getting lost in his taste and the way he melts in your mouth.
Only when his cock is slick enough does he dare free your lips, a thin string of saliva still connecting you before he licks it up.
The tip of his member toys with your entrance teasingly, gathering up more of your slick as he pumps his length between long and thick fingers. The head goes in slowly, the pressure of your walls sucking him in desperately that Miks can’t help but hiss, sound transforming into a gasp.
“How are you—shit,” he stops for a second, panting, “so fucking tight.”
Miks hasn’t felt this horny since the last time you both decided to have sex in the common area a few weeks ago, throwing caution to the wind and going at it like animals in heat until he had you putty in his arms and cumming on his cock repeatedly.
It was just your luck no one was around that time to witness your lovemaking, and he hopes the same applies here when he begins inserting his length slowly.
He groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels your walls contracting and swallowing him eagerly. Throwing your head back, you cannot help the whimper when he’s fully in, filling you up nicely and sending goosebumps all over your body. The pleasure clouds your mind, mouth agape as you get used to his size once again, and losing it when he bucks his hips once to test the waters and you moan high pitched.
Miks looks down at you with nothing but love and raging lust swimming in his green eyes. It might be your fucked out imagination, but you could swear his pupils have even shaped as a heart as he starts to move slowly, hungry to hear more of you, feel you and see you crumble under his touch.
“I love you,” he whispers in your ear, kissing your cheek gently and looking deep into your eyes. He whimpers your name so lovingly, your own chest hurts, “My sweet angel, I love you.”
His arms are caging you against the mat, creating a small intimate bubble for the two of you as he starts grinding against your pelvis with more purpose.
The first few strokes are slow and grounding, cock sliding in and out wetly, and gummy walls sucking him in so deliciously he can’t help but whimper. Making love to you has always brought a sense of comfort and affection only you can make possible within his sensible heart.
It’s embarrassing to admit, but he has fallen so deeply in love with you that every time you allow him to fuck you is like a dream come true. To give him the chance to enjoy your body, your voice, your vulnerability with him sends him into overdrive and fries his brain with lust and want.
To think he is lucky enough that you let him have his way with you…
“God, I love you so much,” he repeats, starting to ram into you with more vigor. He hugs you close to his chest, feeling your breasts squeeze against his pecs and your legs around his hips to pull him closer and deeper. “I love you, I love you!”
He shoves his hips with a thunderous strength that has you shaking under his touch, moaning loudly and whimpering when he starts grinding on your most sensitive spot repeatedly. The bastard has the qualms to apply sonic vibration to his lower half, the motion traveling to the tip of his cock and driving it straight to your g-spot.
“Adrijan, harder—!” you moan, “There! Right there!”
Miks does as he’s told, ramming your insides in a quicker pace, creating a symphony of lewd sounds of your moans getting higher and his groans drowning in your neck. The slap of skin against skin, listening to his dick slid in and out of your pussy and the slick running down your buttcheeks with how much you’re leaking—
“Adri, ahg—, fuck!” Biting onto his shoulder, your climax hits you suddenly.
The ferocity in which your body trembles under him as you ride your orgasm is immeasurable, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you scream his name into oblivion. The pleasure builds up and then snaps, coursing all over you as your legs tighten around his hips while he snaps them roughly, feeling overstimulated and lost in the feeling.
Miks loses his mind having your walls constrict around his cock in an iron grip. Arms hug you closer and flush against your body to feel the remnants of your orgasm wreck you. His groans echo within the room, fucking you with a passion rivalling his love for you, too lost in sensations, too lost in the pleasure he ignores your cries when you beg him to slow it down after the high.
He doesn’t. The warmth of your insides, your cum coating his dick and your calls of his name gets to his head while his mind chants over and over that his only mission is to cum inside of you. He doubles the effort when he feels the coil in his belly tightening, chasing after his own climax.
“A-Adri!” You cry out, nails digging into his back. Your body is overheated, clit swollen and nipples erected against his chest, every part of your body sensitive to every shift in movement and temperature, you are losing your mind. “Ah, ah! P-Please! Adri—stop!”
“No!” He replies in desperation. Lust has clouded his judgment and brain, he keeps pistoning his cock inside you over and over, rocking your body to help you make him feel deeper. “No, no, no.”
It’s too much, it’s too much.
An impending second orgasm hits your system like a tidal wave, body locking into place as you scream his name again and ride the overwhelming pleasure coursing your veins. Miks can’t hold back this time, slamming his hips wildly and climaxing inside of you with big amounts of cum as he groans your name.
“Mine, mine, mine,” he whispers against your skin, kissing every inch available as he thrusts his hips a few more times.
Your walls spasm around his length, milking every drop of his thick and heavy cum. The muscles in your legs gives out, as the rest of your body does, and you lay there, boneless and fucked out of your mind as you catch your breath and your muscles spam.
Miks looks in fascination at the cum in your pussy when he takes his flaccid member out of your cunt. A sight to behold, a testament of his ownership over you and that no one else is allowed to take from him.
His fingers gather up the cum and insert it back gently, inside and deep, right where it belongs, and helps you close your legs to keep it there.
Laying next to you, his eyes roam your face in expectancy, suddenly timid and shy after your lovemaking. He has an arm around your midsection, fingers caressing your side lovingly, and a small smile spreading his lips. He knows he gets quite…passionate. And possessive. And quite a bitch to make you his without regarding your cries.
But he does it because he loves you so much. He wants nothing more than to let you know how much he loves you and would do for you. And he hopes you feel the same for him too.
A quiet footstep catches his attention as he waits for you to ground yourself, and Miks is quick enough to witness a flash of purple before listening to the door of the gym closing behind it.
With a smug smirk, he huffs to himself, satisfied.
“You are such…” you start quietly, chest rising and deflating. His green eyes devour the sight hungrily. “an asshole.”
“Me?” he asks innocently. You turn to look at him, deadpan. “I’m a sweetheart!”
“Sweetheart my ass,” you bite back, laying on your side. He smiles, hands going to grope your ass and squeezes it.
“Yeah, sweet treat it is.”
With a flush you smack his hand away, “You are a pervert!”
“But you love me like this, don’t you?” He pouts, inching closer. Your lips are a breath away from his, hovering but not breaking the gap. You gulp, suddenly flustered. “Don’t you love me, baby?”
“I-I do,” you reply, palm caressing his chest gently.
Miks pulls your body close to his, skin and flesh melting together as he captures your lips in a kiss. You sigh into his mouth, moaning softly as he starts deepening it and his hands begin roaming your naked body greedily.
“You are insatiable,” you mutter against his lips.
“Can’t help it when my girlfriend is so desirable and sweet.” he replies without hesitation, smiling. He lays on the mat, pulling you above him while both his hands grab your buttlocks to squeeze them. “Won’t you ride me, baby?”
Feeling a flush creep up your cheeks, you shake your head, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.
“It’s embarrassing,” you mutter. Miks huffs a laugh, emotions swelling in his chest.
“But you looked hot before.” he says encouragingly. “I’d love seeing you taking the pleasure however you want, anđele.”
Humming, you tug him close and kiss the pulse point on his neck, biting the flesh gently. Miks gasps softly, feeling his cock react to the stimulation while your hands roam down his back.
“Please, ljubav? For me?” he begs, massaging your ass. “I’ll even use a little cheat, hm?”
To emphasize his words, you feel the fingers digging into your flesh begin to vibrate. The tip of his long fingers threaten close to your core, vibration gaining speed and intensity as his hands inch their way to your pussy.
You gasp, bucking your hips against his hands. Miks doesn’t tease you for long, a few fingers finding your folds and inserting them to make you feel the intensity thundering in your sensitive parts. The lewd sound of his cum still inside of you as he starts fingering you is enough incentive to lose your mind.
“Fuck, okay—wait,” with a kiss on his lips, you sit on his lap slow and flustered.
Being so riled up, and with his cock standing erect and flushed once again, you raise your hips slightly to help him slide in between your folds and deep into your cunt until he’s filling you up.
Miks whimpers in pleasure, hands digging into your side as he appreciates the view with nothing but love and obsession over you.
He will never get tired of you.
-----------
You wake up the next morning sore, but fulfilled.
The marathon sex, because there is no other word to describe all you did that afternoon, has left you wondering where did Miks get that much stamina from.
You couldn’t keep up the pace after he made you cum for the fifth time, nevermind the many other orgasms he made you go through after, it was embarrassing.
Still, he was a gentleman and cleaned up all your…lovemaking after he was satisfied. He dressed you, carried you to your room, and pampered the hell out of you until you kicked him out for starting his handsyness once again.
Glancing at a mirror, you are horrified to see the many hickeys and bitemarks littering around your neck. Make-up wouldn’t be possible to cover it all, so a scarf and a high neck shirt will have to do the job for now until you find your boyfriend to heal it up.
When you reach the kitchen, tired and hungry as fuck, you are met with Iso just like the day before. He is drinking a cup of coffee mindlessly, attention elsewhere but in the moment that he doesn’t notice your presence until you land a hand on his shoulders, startling him.
“Hey, morning.” you greet, looking at him slightly worried. “Everything okay?”
Instead of an answer, Iso’s face bursts into colors when he sees you. His mouth is slightly agape, words stuck in his throat as he tries to come up with a normal response instead of reminiscing about the events he witnessed in the gym the day before.
Your moans. Your voice. Your naked body—
“I have to go.” he announces, fleeing the kitchen without as much as an explanation.
You are left with a hand hovering in the air, and confusion overtaking your features. Cocking your head to the side, you find no reason to attribute to Iso’s weird behaviour.
‘That was odd,’ you think to yourself, watching him rush down the hallway.
♰┊ryusui nanami is a greedy man, and that is a fact known by everyone in this stone world. so him wanting you—all of you, is just natural.
♰┊cw: smut — f!reader, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, p in v, creampie, slight cum play, biting, breast play
♰┊2nd PPOV . lowercase intended . typo/grammatical errors may be present—i did not proofread ts . MDNI | 1.9k words
🌬 the ghost whispers...
i want to eat ryusui so bad, but i guess him devouring eating me is fine, too. - 👻
the air felt... hot. as if your room was a sauna, the cramped space feeling even smaller and hotter as you were backed up against the wall by no other than ryusui nanami—the greediest man of the stone world.
"i want you," he groans out, one of his hands making its way down to your ass, grasping the flesh and kneading it like dough while the other was kept pinned against the wall behind you. "so bad. i want you, all of you. i desire you."
ryusui's lips pressed against the crook of your neck, his nose taking in your scent followed with a shuddering exhale.
"is that so greedy of me?"
the question left his mouth quietly as ryusui finally pulled away to look you in the eye, his own searching your face for even the tiniest hint of 'no', of you not wanting the same thing, not wanting him as he wants you.
but all he saw was your flushed face and parted lips, soft and so, so kissable.
ryusui swallowed thickly, anticipating your next words and actions.
"i want you, too." you whispered, placing a hand on his chest, over his pounding heart. "does that make me greedy as well, for wanting the greediest man?"
his mind blanked.
before ryusui could even utter out something, his hands moved. quickly, they worked your body up and down, groping and caressing all over. his lips were eager, seeking yours in a clash of passion and desire, tongue parting your lips to tangle with your own muscle.
"greedy." he noted and smirked when he felt your lips and tongue move with fervor, pulling away to watch the string of saliva connecting you two snap, before he dove back in. his hips rut against your stomach, searching for friction on his growing hard-on, cock already rock hard and twitching inside his pants.
"so are you. greedier than i am." you retorted, smirking back at him and leaning back in to make out with the man who was delighted of your boldness, returning the hunger tenfold.
"(name)," ryusui panted against your neck, still grinding against you. "you said you want me too, right?" his lips pressed kisses around your jugular, gently suckling hickeys on your skin.
"i want you. you want me. fuck," a curse. then a bite. the man sunk his teeth on your neck to leave a mark for everyone to see. "that makes you mine, no? then i'm yours." he soothed the bite with his tongue, licking a long, wet strip on the area.
he pulled away once more.
"i'll show you how greedy i am by making you mine."
with a sudden move, ryusui then tore your clothes off, letting the fabrics drop on the floor with a quiet thud.
"ryusui, my clothes!" you gasped, but the sound came out as a moan when his mouth quickly returned to your skin, placing open-mouthed kisses all over before he reached and paused your chest—then began to fondle the mounds.
"i'll buy you new ones. don't worry about it." the man sighs out contentedly as his lips then wrapped around the stiff peak of your nipple, his tongue lashing against it, suckling, while his fingers twisted and rubbed the other.
"what are you, a baby?" you groaned, head thrown back as your hand grasped his hair, loose strands falling as he moved to the other peak, giving it an equal treatment as the first one, not minding your comment. in fact—he suckled harder, just to draw out that sweet sound from you.
"don't taunt me or i'll give you a baby." he bit back as he pulled away just to kiss down to your stomach until he finally is on his knees, hands holding you still by the hips and he inhaled your scent as if smelling the finest perfume. "so wet. so good, (name). i'm gonna eat you up."
ryusui darted his tongue out flat, licking a stripe on your slit, before the muscle circled the nub. "delicious. i want more. more. i want it all." he lapped up all your juices greedily as his tongue did wonders to coax out every drop.
"h-hey, calm down..." you gasped and sputtered, hips bucking and legs shaking, held up by sheer will and ryusui's hands that were unyielding on your hips as he ate away, starving for the feast in between your legs.
"ryusui, i-i'm gonna—" before you could even finish your sentence, ryusui made sure to make you finish first by soaking his face with your release that he hungrily lapped up clean off you as he slowly ascended back up to make out.
"you're tasting yourself on my lips. that's hot." he moaned as his fingers probed your pussy, one digit going in for a test, followed by another to stretch, and another to make sure you're all set. "i want to taste you again."
you moaned and trembled as ryusui then worked you up for another orgasm with his thrusting fingers that stretched you up good for him. "s-so greedy... d-don't stop, i'm close again."
a smirk made its way up ryusui's face. "you hear yourself right now, (name)? you're quite demanding." he picked up the pace of his fingers that are already drenched with your juices, making sure to hit that spongy spot that made you keen and finally yield.
"a-ahh, ah... t-that was intense..." you noted, legs shaking as ryusui then lead you away to the bed so you could sit while he stood over you, watching in silent hunger.
"my turn." he sighed out, stripping his own clothes off in a slow, deliberate pace. "i'm sure you've had your fill? because i've been very patient in waiting to get mine."
as the fabrics of his clothing fell down the floor, ryusui finally mover to hover over your body. his hands were the first to move, cupping your cheeks to gently pull you in for a kiss, before he pulled away and let them wander and reach the back of your thighs.
a squeeze. "ryusui..." the soft sound of his name leaving your lips had the man shuddering as the hunger in his gaze darkened, hips twitching and cock leaking.
"i'm going to put it in now." he gave the heads-up, one hand on your thigh to keep your legs open for him while the other held his twitching cock, guiding it to the greatest treasure he sought after.
still, he held himself back and did not put it in.
"you look so pretty under me like this, (name)." ryusui complimented, hot, shuddering breaths leaving his lips as he rubbed the head of his weeping cock on your clit, coating the pearl with the sticky mess.
his teasing then continued, rubbing and gliding against your folds and not fucking his meaty length in to stuff you full. yet.
"i-i thought you're going to put it in already?" the question left your lips, more of a complain as you whined in need, back arching and hips stuttering against his teasing touches. "ryusui, d-don't be mean now..."
"sorry, (name). i can't help myself. i just—i need to enjoy every bit of you." he paused, pumping his cock with his fist. "i feel drunk. my thoughts are all over the place. all i can think of is you. making love to you. filling you up. turning you into a beautiful mess..."
ryusui swallowed thickly.
"i'm gonna do it. for real, now."
slowly, gently, and with the carefulness of a man in a glassware aisle, ryusui finally entered your inside. his cock eased in your pussy, inch by inch as it stretched to accommodate his size. until he was nestled within the warm tightness of you.
nanami ryusui let out a shameless groaning moan.
"fuck, fuck, fuck... so good, (name). fuck. i love you. oh... i feel like exploding already." he gasped, holding onto you tight as his arms wrapped around your body in a tight embrace, all while keeping himself deep within you and refusing to move an inch in fear of ruining the magic of the moment.
"are you okay? c-can i move? please... i need—fuck, i need you. i want to love you so bad, (name). please. please. i want you." the man begged even as his hips were already stuttering against yours as his lips placed sloppy wet kisses around your neck, followed up by yet another bite.
"d-do it."
the words had barely left your lips when nanami ryusui registered them in a heartbeat. his hands, though still gentle against your hips, tightened a fraction as he pounded away, causing the bed to rock.
it was a brutal pounding—hard and deep, with a perfect speed. brutally good, that your mind was left fumbling for thoughts that you can't keep up with.
"r-ryusui! ryu—ohh!" you moaned and cried out his name, the only thing you remember as you clawed on his back in pleasure, legs wrapping around his waist and heels digging against his lower back.
"you like it? or d-do you want faster? h-harder? deeper?" ryusui asks in between groans and thrusts, not faltering from his pace at all.
you nodded at his words, back arching off the bed from the delicious sensation. "l-love it, ryu! s-so good! d-don't stop!" the words that left your lips were then followed by another moan, louder than the first as he hit that one spot deliciously.
and of course, ryusui noticed the impact of hitting that sweet spot of yours. so, naturally, he abused it until your legs began to shake.
"c-come on... come on. i know you're close, baby. aren't you?" his lips brushed against your ear, his breath warm and hot as his tongue that licked up your jaw free from sweat and tears. "i can feel you. tightening around me.. s-shaking. it's delicious, (name). i'm afraid i-... shit, fuck. i can't get enough of it—i'll need more and more, again and again."
ryusui's hips twitched.
he adjusted his position, nearly folding you in half. he pressed himself against your chest, locking you both in the moment. then pounded in that constant tasteful rhythm.
plap, plap, plap!
the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the room, wet and sticky, and oh so lewd as it mixed with moans and groans of pure pleasure and ecstasy.
"ryusui..." the sound of his name fell from your lips, trembling. "i-i feel... oh, ohh!" the coil in your gut tightened to the point of snapping, leaving you shaking and moaning like a common whore.
a whisper then followed. from nanami ryusui. a command. a singular word.
"come."
your vision blanked to a spotting white and black as the dizzying sensation took over your body, drowning you in pleasure as you came all over, drenching the sheets and ryusui's cock with your sweet juice.
"hah.. a-ah...." you panted, slowly regaining your vision to see ryusui watching your reactions intently. he was still as stone. still buried deep within, unmoving.
"that was so hot." he compliments, though the words had barely left ryusui's lips, before he crashed them against yours in yet another make out session as his hips stuttered in miniscule movements.
"i wanna feel good, too, (name). i need to. i'm too greedy to be left high and dry. p-please," he gasped, eyes locking with yours. "you feel so slick and good right now. i'm getting so worked up, honestly..."
ryusui swallowed thickly. "can i come inside? i can, right? right?"
silence.
then, you nodded.
and almost like magic, ryusui fucking exploded then and there like a damned virgin. his hot release filled you up good, his cock twitching as he pumped the thick goop out before pulling out and pumping his meat to release more on your stomach.
"so pretty," his hands splayed over your stomach, spreading his cum all over your chest. the mess spread all over your figure as the man rubbed it on your breasts and over the peaks.
he then finally pulled away to admire his work for a few beats of silence. "so mine." ryusui whispered softly, pressing a kiss on your forehead as he then breathe out a satisfied huff, laying himself down close beside you.
In which you find out who the person leaving you continuous love letters is and return the gesture
solivan brugmansia x gn!reader | 1.7k wc, fluff, reader is friendly, awkwardness, nervousness, hyugo’s very involved, deryl and geo (briefly, just in the background), tiny implication of masturbation if you squint
note: i felt a little iffy writing about lockers because they’re uni students but that’s how it is in the game so (ᵕ—ᴗ—) this was supposed to be out while most people were still in college (because i think people in the semester system are already out for break) but i didn’t make it in time </3 as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated
masterlist read on ao3
Lately, your existence has been put on the same pedestal as that of everything beautiful in the world.
You’ve been getting love letter after love letter ever since Valentine’s Day. At first, you thought it was some sort of misunderstanding—they got the wrong locker. It wasn’t until certain details in them were specific to you that you finally got the message across. This secret admirer really was yours.
You picked up on quirks in the handwriting after rereading them so many times. Separated letters frequently molded into random strings of cursive. The horizontal lines on the t’s are low, they look like upside down crosses.
If the writing itself wasn’t sweet enough, there were also doodles left on the margins and corners. Flowers, hearts, and oddly enough, pumpkins.
Life was more fun with romantic secrecy in the air.
Sometimes it was embarrassing, though. You’d trip, drop a paper, or miss a shot of a wrapper to a trash can—and your mind would immediately go to, did they see that?
The question hovered over your head for months like a cloud. Who are they?
—
“Don’t eat so close to me,” Sol mumbled to Hyugo, angling himself away as he continued writing. He didn’t want the wind to blow any crumbs onto his paper.
“Another letter? You’re so romantic, Sunny! It almost makes me lose my appetite.”
Yes and no. It was a letter for you, but essentially, it was just a draft for now.
“Do you think it’s working?” Sol asked with a sigh, vulnerability in his question.
“I don’t see why it wouldn’t. Have you seen their reaction to finding one in their locker?”
“A couple times.”
“And?”
“They were smiling.” Sol’s own answer prompted a faint one to form on his face.
Love and commitment wove through each and every word until the end result was practically a written serenade for you, and only you.
—
Whether by sheer luck or fate, you didn’t have to do any snooping to find who your secret admirer is. The answer came to you.
“Pass your homework towards the front of the class.”
Stuck in the very first row, you patiently waited until you were tapped on the shoulder and given a stack of completed homework.
As you were making the stack look presentable, you noticed a familiar looking ‘t’ on the title of the last paper. No way. Was the person sending love letters in this class? They had to be sitting at the very back if so.
Knowing their name wouldn’t help, you didn’t know anybody in this class because group activities weren’t required.
Acting nonchalant, you stretched your back from side to side and took the opportunity to look behind you. But you couldn’t really see because of all the people in your way.
Next idea. You “accidentally” dropped your pencil and leaned over in your chair to catch a glimpse.
Their head rested snugly against their forearm, you couldn’t see their face. Black and dark green long sleeves, that’s all you were getting. Okay, you could wait until class ended for the mystery to be revealed.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
The clock mocked your excitement for approximately fifty-five torturous minutes.
Class ended, students scrambled.
After quickly gathering your things into your arms, you (not very discreetly) turned around. There was no reason to, there were two doors and you usually went out the front one since it was close to you.
But only in this way were you able to fully look at the person who’s been making even the shittiest of weeks feel better.
Tall, pierced ears and lips, eyelashes that look long even from a distance…
Your secret admirer is handsome in a pretty sort of way. Even so, he looks like someone who would give his crush a necklace with his blood in it rather than lovey-dovey letters.
You must’ve been awe-struck for too long, time slowed.
As soon as he caught on to your staring (gawking), he immediately walked out of the room, leaving his friend talking to no one. “…and then–huh? Sunny? Sunny! How rude…”
“No fair. You have long legs, you walk faster than me.” Hyugo eventually caught up to Sol. Their lockers were next to one another’s.
Sol’s body felt hot. You had looked at him with intent for the first time ever, not just an accidental glance or something. He tried to compose himself as he opened his locker to put one of his books away.
Were you finally noticing him? He had so much love to offer, all you had to do was embrace the soul that was so willing to give it to you.
“…I have to use the restroom.” He most certainly does not, at least not in the way it’s intended to be used.
In the midst of being over the moon, he failed to see that you were nearby.
You know where his locker is.
Now there’s only two things left to do.
—
i. WRITE HIM A LETTER
Now back at home, you felt insecure. Just a bit. All his letters were beautiful: nice expensive looking paper, sentences all in pen (somehow he never made a single mistake, there were never any words scribbled out), and lived in envelopes that had pretty dark red wax seals prior to you opening them.
Well. You didn’t have any envelopes. Your paper was college ruled with three holes on the left. Your pen was gel-point and smeared when you wrote too fast. And, you didn’t have any white-out in case you made a mistake.
“This is silly.” You tell yourself, shaking away your doubts and picking the pen back up.
You didn’t harbor the same feelings that he did to you, how could you, when you barely came to know of his existence? Either way, his letters always left you feeling giddy. And who knows, maybe a potential future relationship awaited you.
So, you got to writing.
ii. DELIVER IT TO HIS LOCKER (GONE WRONG)
Time passed by ever so slowly the next day, it always did when you had something to look forward to. Butterflies ran rampant in your stomach, concentrating in class was hard, especially the one you shared with him.
You waited until the end of school, the letter already in your hand as you (hesitantly) made your way there. If anything, it looked like you were holding a folded graded assignment with a big giant F on it, nobody would suspect it.
“Hey, maybe that’s another letter for you Geo! Your locker’s full again isn’t it? Have you even gone through them?”
“Be quiet.”
They couldn’t be talking about you. They just couldn’t.
Thankfully, those guys turned a corner. It would’ve been awkward if you all kept walking the same way. And who’s Geo, anyway? Is he really that popular?
You leaned against the wall, your other hand preoccupied by your phone as you waited for the after school crowd to die out. Checking the time, you had a tutoring session upstairs in ten minutes.
Eventually, the only footsteps you could hear were distant. Putting your phone away, you swallowed your nerves and approached his locker.
Well, here goes nothing.
You start slipping it in.
Somehow, your body flinches before your hearing processes anything.
“Woah! Is that a letter for Sunny?”
Shit.
Wide-eyed, you looked over. The letter was still in your hands, only the tip of it was rammed into the locker ventilation hole.
Day one of trying to mimic your secret admirer and you already failed.
Just your luck, his best friend was here too. Even so, you could only focus on him. His expression matched yours, but his was from being incredibly flustered rather than embarrassment from being caught.
You didn’t know what to say, only one word slipped from your lips.
“…Hi.”
Hi.
Hi?
Hi?!
“Hi!” Hyugo greeted you back with a grin and wave, catching your attention for a split second. Like the good best friend he was, he nudged Sol your way.
Looks like he was too stunned to talk, you’d have to break the ice more. All the words he held right now, you were sure you’d already read them all.
You brought the letter back down.
“I may have…figured out that you were the person sending me letters. Unless I’m wrong! And in that case I can leave and…”
“How’d you figure out it was me?”
Surprisingly, his voice is soft.
“Because of your t’s.”
“…My t’s?”
“Yeah. You write them differently. Not differently in a bad way! Just…I’ve never really seen anyone write them the way you do.”
One of his brows raised. You thought you offended him until he smiled. That alone put you at ease.
“This is for you,” you handed the letter to him. His fingertips briefly kissed your skin.
The paper didn’t so much as crinkle in his hold, he was being gentle. You were grateful he wasn’t bold enough to start reading it on the spot, you would die.
He opened his locker with his free hand and fetched a crumpled-looking paper. He stammered a bit over his words as he held it out to you. “It’s…It’s not done yet.”
It was a draft full of scribbles and crossed out words. So, he did make mistakes. Just that he worked on a draft before putting everything onto the fancier paper. Somehow, that just made his gestures all the sweeter.
“I think this one will be my favorite,” you tell him, no sarcasm present.
You were kind and welcoming, exactly what he needed in a world such as this.
"I love-" Sol's overly strong confession was interrupted by Hyugo elbowing him.
Finding a clock on the wall, you curse under your breath. “I have to go catch a tutoring session but it was nice finally meeting you. What’s your name?”
“You can just call me Sol.”
“See you tomorrow, Sol!”
You repeated his name under your breath over and over to commit it to memory as you walked away. “Sol, Sol, Sol…”
He was stuck in place, never taking his gaze off you until you turned the corner. Your voice echoed in his head, a catchy melody he would never tire of.
See you tomorrow, you said. Like you would be talking to him from now on. Like you wouldn’t be put off by him casually approaching you. Like you were friends now.
Hyugo lightly pinched Sol’s arm, he got no response.
Sol looked down at the letter, he was holding something sacred—you put thought into it, something in your possession (your pen) had touched it, your fingerprints were all over it. Does this count as indirect hand-holding?
He needed to read it, and he would, once in private.
“Let me see, let me see!”
“Touch it and I’ll kill you.”
“…Jeez, and then who’ll clean up all your messes?”
I’ve been playing visual novels for a while and let me tell you I’m OBSESSED with them, for days I’ve been sleeping at 3 or 4a.m just to get every endings I wanted 😭🙏
If you have any recommendations pls im happy to hear them
Dr.Stone characters (Ukyo, Gen, Ryusui, Saï, Kohaku) X Reader
Summary : How the characters would react to the Reader catching the bouqet at Taiju & Yuzuriha's Wedding.ᐟ.ᐟ
Warning : Fluff no angst, a lot of teasing, gen (yes he got his whole warning) , mariage proposal in some part, bribery, just cute,
NOTES : While writing this, I realized that I was very shy and clumsy when it came to mariages proposals lmao, I don’t know how to writes and describes those
Enjoy!! (my fav is kohaku and gen on this headcanons)
✶⋆.˚ GEN ASAGIRI
The bouquet toss was supposed to be elegant (like Xeno always says)
Yuzuriha turned, counted, and released the flowers in a perfect, sparkling arc toward the waiting group of unmarried guests. And you were standing a little off to the side, mid-conversation with Francois about whether the second cake layer had enough citrus when it happened.
“—and I still think the glaze could have used a little more—”
Wham.
The bouquet slammed into your face with the force of a mildly aggressive houseplant with petals exploding everywhere.
One stem poked you directly in the cheek. Another flower somehow wedged itself on your head like it had been aiming for that exact spot all along. And the rest of it get stuck to your dress…
There was a beat of absolute silence.
Then the entire wedding erupted.
People were literraly howling. Taiju was bent over while Yuzuriha had both hands over her mouth trying not to ruin her makeup from laughing to much. Even Senku made a strangled sound that might have been a laugh. And next to all of those people stood your boyfriend, Gen—who had been standing a safe distance away with a drink and an expression of shock and disbelief.
He took one look at your flower-covered face and completely lost it. He laughed so hard he had to lean on a nearby table. Actual tears…
“Oh my god,”
he wheezed, pointing at you with the hand that wasn’t clutching his stomach.
“Straight to the face. With no graceful catch. Just—BOOM.”
You stood there, face still stinging with petals stuck to your hair and the front of your dress, while Gen wiped his eyes and kept laughing. He eventually wandered over, plucked a particularly stubborn flower from your bangs, and held it up like evidence.
“I’m keeping this. Proof that the universe has a sense of humor and terrible timing only for you my dear~.”
The teasing did not stop after the reception.
It continued for weeks.
Every single day Gen found a new way to bring it up. He would casually reenact the moment with exaggerated slow-motion arm movements whenever you walked into a room. He started referring to the bouquet as “your mortal enemy” and would dramatically shield his own face whenever Yuzuriha walked by with flowers. Another time he somehow convinced Chrome to draw a highly inaccurate comic strip of the incident and pinned it to the community board.
But he never once mentioned marriage. Not a single hint. No “so when’s the wedding” jokes. No meaningful looks. Just pure, relentless, bouquet-related teasing.
And the more he teased you, the more something started shifting in the back of his mind.
At first it was just amusement. Then it became a habit. Then, somewhere between the third laughing about it and the fifth slow motion joke, Gen realized he kept imagining what it would look like if the next bouquet was for you instead of at you.
I mean the thought was ridiculous. He was Gen Asagiri, the Mentalist, a popular showman. The last person on earth who should be thinking about quiet, private, non-theatrical life decisions.
And yet.
One evening, almost a month after the wedding he found you sitting on the quiet stretch of cliff overlooking the sea—far from the village lights and far from any audience.
The wind was soft. The water below was dark and calm almost scary. And he walked up without any of his usual flourish, hands in his pockets, and sat down beside you so quietly that you already suspected something.
But you didn’t decide to talk and let yourself enjoy the quiet he is for once giving. And he didn’t say anything too.
Then, very quietly:
“…I’ve been thinking about that bouquet.”
You groaned.
“Gen. It’s been weeks.”
“I know.”
He smiled, small and almost shy—an expression so rare on him it looked like it belonged to someone else.
“That’s the problem. The more I brought it up, the more I kept… considering the other part of the tradition.”
He glanced sideways at you, eyes softer than usual.
“The part where the person who gets hit in the face is supposedly next.”
You blinked and Gen decided to looked out at the water that was suddenly very interested in the horizon.
“I had an entire performance planned, you know. Lights. Smoke. A floating ring. Dramatic music. The works. But every time I tried to picture it, all I could see was you with flowers stuck to your face and me laughing like an idiot. And somehow that felt more honest than any stage trick.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple ring—nothing flashy, nothing that sparkled under stage lights. Just something quiet and carefully chosen.
“So I decided to skip the show,”
he said, voice lower than you’d ever heard it.
“No audience. No teasing. Just… this…us...”
He finally looked at you properly, a faint flush on his cheeks that he was clearly trying to ignore.
“Will you marry me? Even though the last time flowers were involved you nearly lost an eye?”
You stared at him for a second. Then you started laughing, because the mentalist of the Kingdom of Science was sitting on a cliff proposing with zero planned plans and a slightly embarrassed expression. And gen’s ears went pink at the sound of your laugh.
“You’re laughing. That’s not the reaction I practiced for.”
“I’m laughing because this is the most you and not you thing you’ve ever done,”
you managed, still grinning as you took the ring.
“Yes. Obviously yes. But I’m never letting you forget the bouquet.”
Gen let out a long and dramatic sigh of relief, then leaned over and rested his forehead against your shoulder.
“Deal, as long as the next time flowers come near your face, they’re in a vase and not airborne.”
You laced your fingers through his and watched the water with him, both of you quiet for once. For a man who lived for the spotlight, it was the most perfect proposal he could have given.
✶⋆.˚ KOHAKU
Kohaku had been a walking disaster from the moment she stepped into the wedding grounds and you had appointed yourself her full-time babysitter for the day.
She tried to sit cross-legged on the formal chairs until you gently pulled her upright. She nearly tackled Taiju in a congratulatory hug that ALMOST sent him flying into the cake table but he just laugh about it.
During the ceremony she leaned over and loudly whispered,
“Why is everyone so quiet? Is there a predator nearby?”
And you had to shush her while the entire front row tried not to laugh. She also kept eyeing the decorative flower arrangements like she was evaluating which ones would make the best emergency weapons. At one point you caught her halfway up a support beam “for a better view” and had to talk her down like a particularly athletic cat.
By the time the bouquet toss was announced you were already exhausted and fondly exasperated.
“Stay close,”
you told her, linking your arm through hers.
“No climbing. No tackling. No challenging anyone to a race. Just… stand here and look pretty.”
Kohaku frowned.
“I can look pretty and be ready for combat.”
“No combat.”
She huffed but stayed put…mostly.
Yuzuriha turned, counted, and threw the bouquet in a soft white arc and suddenly Kohaku’s competitive instincts flared instantly. She launched herself upward and snatched the flowers out of the air with both hands, and landed in a perfect combat stance, bouquet held high like a freshly won trophy.
The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter.
Kohaku looked around, triumphant, then glanced at the flowers in her hands with mild confusion.
“I caught it, What do I win?”
Someone—probably Gen (again…) because of course it was Gen—called out,
“Whoever catches the bouquet is supposed to be the next one to get married gorilla!”
Kohaku’s eyes lit up with pure and unfiltered understanding.
She turned to you, still holding the slightly crushed bouquet, and nodded once like she had just accepted a new village mission.
“Then we have to get married. Right now.”
Before anyone could stop her she dropped to one knee in the middle of the dance floor, scanned the ground, picked up the nearest decent-sized rock, and held it out toward you with complete sincerity.
“Reader,”
she declared in her clearest warrior voice,
“I challenge you to marriage. Immediately. With this rock.”
And she looked so serious about it.. Taiju was wheezing while Yuzuriha had tears streaming down her face trying to hide her face in Taiju shoulders. Even Senku looked away so nobody could see him laugh.
Someone in the back shouted, “That’s not how it works!” while still crying with laughter.
Kohaku looked around at the reaction, then down at the rock in her hand, then back at you. Her confident expression faltered just a little.
“…Is the rock too small?”
she asked, completely serious.
“I can find a bigger one. There’s a good boulder near the tree line. Wait here.”
She started to stand while already scanning for superior geological options, and you had to grab her wrist before she could sprint off on a rock-gathering quest.
“Kohaku—wait. That’s not… you don’t have to marry someone the same day you catch the bouquet. And you definitely don’t propose with a random rock in the middle of someone else’s wedding.”
She blinked at you, still kneeling with her rock still offered toward you.
“But they said the person who catches it gets married next. I caught it. You’re right here. The logic is sound.”
You were laughing so hard your sides hurt while around you the guests were still recovering, and Kohaku simply glanced at the rock.
Eventually someone (this time it was Yuzuriha after she stopped crying of laughter) managed to explain the tradition: the bouquet only meant “someday,” not “right this second with the first available stone.” Kohaku listened with increasing skepticism, then looked down at her rock one more time.
“So I don’t have to marry you immediately?”
“No.”
“But I still caught it.”
“Yes.”
She considered this, then slowly stood, brushed off her knee and kept the rock anyway—tucking it into a pocket she asked the dress to have.
“Fine,”
she said, grinning that bright, fearless grin that always meant no well.
“Someday, then. But next time I propose, I’m bringing a much bigger rock. And maybe a lion’s head for decoration. It’s from the village style.”
You pulled her into a quick hug still laughing, while the rest of the reception continued around the two of you. Kohaku spent the remainder of the evening proudly carrying both the bouquet and her rejected proposal rock, explaining to anyone who asked that she had “almost gotten married today but the rock wasn’t sufficient.”
Every time she looked at you with that triumphant little smirk it was impossible not to smile back. For a warrior who had zero understanding of wedding customs she had somehow managed to create the most memorable proposal the Kingdom of Science had ever seen.
✶⋆.˚ UKYO SAIONJI
Ukyo had been restless all day.
He stood near the edge of the gathering for Taiju and Yuzuriha’s wedding, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes flicking between you and the cluster of unmarried or simply single guests waiting for the bouquet toss.
Every few seconds his gaze would drift to Yuzuriha’s hands, then back to you, then away again like he was trying not to look too obvious. He was the usual calm person of the group so he couldn’t seem nervous just for a bouquet toss…. But his shoulders were a little too tight, breath a little too measured, and many others factors that could scream nervousness to anyone.
You caught him watching once and raised an eyebrow and he simply offered a small, sheepish smile and mouthed something that looked suspiciously like “good luck.”
When the moment came, the bouquet left Yuzuriha’s hands in a soft, graceful arc. You stepped forward with the others, hands half-raised with Ukyo, who had somehow drifted closer without anyone noticing??
The bouquet was coming to you but suddenly it changed direction and the bouquet smacked squarely into his chest.
Silence.
Then the entire courtyard exploded into laughter.
Ukyo stood frozen, bouquet clutched against his formal jacket with his ears that quickly went red, his mouth opened, closed, opened then opened again with zero sound coming out.
You covered your face with both hands, shoulders shaking.
“Oh my god.”
“I—”
Ukyo looked down at the flowers, then at you, then at the flowers again.
“I was… hoping you would catch it.”
“Clearly,”
you managed between laughs while someone in the crowd shouted (probably Gen…), “Looks like the sonar expert’s next!” and Ukyo’s face somehow managed an even deeper shade of pink. He carefully extracted himself from the circle of teasing with the bouquet still in hand, and made his way over to you with the air of a man who had just lost a very public battle against fate.
“I sincerely hoped it would be you,”
he admitted quietly once he was close enough. You took the bouquet from him, grinning.
“So now you’re the one who’s supposed to get married next, huh?”
He made a small, mortified sound and looked away. And let me tell you that the teasing did not stop that night. It continued for days.
Every time you saw him you would hold up an imaginary bouquet and stage-whisper,
“Catch!”
He would flush, mutter something about unluckiness and try to change the subject. Hell even Chrome started calling him “Bouquet Boy.” with Gen somehow obtaining a tiny pressed flower and left it on Ukyo’s desk with a note that simply said Destiny called. You answered. Even Senku, in passing, dryly remarked that Ukyo’s “probability calculations appear to have suffered a critical system failure.”
Ukyo endured it all with quiet dignity and progressively pinker ears.
Then, several evenings later, he asked you to walk with him along the quiet stretch of shoreline past the new docks. The sky was soft with early stars since the light pollution had disappeared thousand of years ago. No one else was around—just the gentle sound of water against sand and the occasional distant laugh from the village.
He stopped near a smooth driftwood log and turned to face you, hands fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time,”
he said, voice low and steady despite the color rising in his cheeks.
“Long before the wedding. I kept waiting for the right quiet moment. Somewhere no one would interrupt. Somewhere it could just be… us.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple, carefully made ring, nothing flashy, just something he had clearly put thought into.
“I know I was the one who caught the bouquet,”
he continued, a tiny self-conscious smile tugging at his mouth.
“And you’ve been reminding me of that fact very thoroughly. But I still wanted to be the one to ask.”
You opened your mouth, already grinning, and he immediately held up a hand.
“Please don’t say it yet.”
“I was only going to point out,”
you simply said innocently,
“that since you caught it, maybe I should be the one proposing.”
Ukyo’s entire face went scarlet. He looked away, then back, then covered his eyes with one hand for a second while a helpless little laugh escaped him.
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
He lowered his hand, still blushing furiously, and held the ring out properly this time.
“Then let me ask anyway. Will you marry me? Even if the flowers decided I was next?”
You stepped closer, took the ring, and kissed him softly while he was still trying to recover his composure.
“Yes…always yes”
you said against his smile.
“But I’m still going to tease you about the bouquet for the rest of our lives.”
Ukyo laughed at that and rested his forehead against yours.
“I can live with that. As long as it’s you doing the teasing and not chrome…”
✶⋆.˚ RYUSUI NANAMI
Ryusui had been preparing for this wedding like it was his.
Weeks earlier he had commissioned Yuzuriha (even thought it’s HER weeding) to make you a dress that could only be described as criminal in its beauty with layers of soft fabric that caught the light every time you moved, details so fine they looked almost spectacular.
On the day of the wedding he presented it with the flourish of a man unveiling a treasure map.
“You look like the sea itself decided to walk on land,”
he announced, spinning you once so the skirt flared.
“Absolute masterpiece. Yuzuriha outdid herself. I may have to commission an entire wardrobe after this.”
”You already did once Ryusui…”
Then came the bribery phase.
Ryusui spent the hour before the bouquet toss quietly slipping stacks of notes (and in one case a small gold coin) into the hands of every unmarried person within reach.
“Just… don’t catch it,”
he whispered to one guest.
“For science. For the economy. And mostly for my future happiness.”
Most people laughed and pocketed the money while fully intending to jump for the flowers anyway. Gen, of course, accepted a particularly generous sum that he manipulated ryusui in giving in, and bowed, then immediately took three large steps backward with both hands raised in surrender.
“Consider me permanently retired from bouquet combat,”
Gen declared.
“My pockets are full and my conscience is clear.”
When the moment finally arrived, Yuzuriha turned and released the bouquet in a perfect arc. You reached up almost on instinct—and the flowers landed squarely in your hands.
The crowd cheered.
But Ryusui looked like someone had just handed him the deed to every ocean on the planet.
He was happier than you. Visibly he looked like he was vibrating. He crossed the distance in three long strides, scooped you (and the bouquet) into a spin that left your feet off the ground and set you down only so he could grab both of your hands.
“YES!”
he laughed, eyes bright enough to rival the lanterns.
“I knew it! I felt it in the wind the second she threw it! Destiny has excellent taste and even better aim!”
He was already talking a mile a minute, completely carried away.
“I’ve been thinking about the ring for weeks—something substantial, something that catches the light like a lighthouse at night. And the proposal location! Maybe on the deck of a new ship at sunset, or on an island no one’s named yet and you would name it of course. The wedding itself will be a celebration for the ages—fireworks, a feast that lasts three days, music that can be heard from the next continent—”
He paused only long enough to grin at you, completely unrepentant. And you laugh at him to calm down.
“I’m not proposing right now, of course. That would be rushing the schedule. But the schedule has officially moved up. Significantly.”
He squeezed your hands, still laughing with you.
“You caught the bouquet baby... The universe has spoken. I am simply the happiest man alive to hear it.”
Someone tried to remind him that catching the bouquet only meant “next,” not “immediately plan an entire maritime wedding empire.” But Ryusui simply waved the comment away like it was a particularly unhelpful cloud.
“Details,”
he said cheerfully.
“Beautiful, exciting details that we will discuss at length. Preferably over champagne”
The ceremony continued and every time his eyes found yours across the crowd he looked even more delighted than before, like the bouquet had been the best gift he had ever received and he hadn’t even been the one to catch it.
✶⋆.˚ SAÏ NANAMI
Getting Sai to the wedding required actual strategy, mild threats, and one very determined physical intervention.
You found him half-hidden behind a stack of crates near the coding station with a controller still in hand and the screen glowing with whatever game he had been deep in for the last three hours.
When you announced it was time to get ready he made a sound like a dying modem and tried to sink lower behind the crates.
“I don’t need to go,”
he muttered.
“I can just… stay here. Code. Play. Exist. Quietly. Without people looking at me.”
You had to drag him out. Then you had to physically dress him, because the formal clothes Yuzuriha had prepared were still hanging untouched and Sai had zero intention of putting them on himself. He stood there like a particularly reluctant mannequin while you buttoned the shirt, fixed the collar, and somehow got the jacket on him without him vanishing into the nearest shadow.
“This is cruel, this is a human rights violation. I could be optimizing code right now.”
At the reception table he immediately retreated into his own little world. Head down. Fingers twitching against the tablecloth like he was still at a keyboard. Every so often his lips would move soundlessly clearly debugging something that only existed in his head. When people tried to talk to him he gave short, distracted answers and went right back to staring at the wood..
You had to nudge him every few minutes just to make sure he was still present.
When the bouquet toss was announced, Sai looked up in mild panic.
“Do I have to stand up?”
he asked.
“Yes.”
“Can I stay here and pretend I’m coding?”
“No.”
You pulled him along anyway. He hovered near the edge of the group hoping the main quest would ignore him. After a while Yuzuriha threw the bouquet. There was a brief flurry of reaching hands—
—and the flowers landed cleanly in yours.
The crowd cheered but Sai went completely still.
His face turned the color of a ripe tomato in under two seconds. He stared at the bouquet in your hands like it had just revealed something he was not emotionally prepared for. His ears burned and his fingers twitched once against his side, then froze.
He didn’t say a single word about marriage.
But you could practically see the thought hit him.
For a long moment he just stood there, eyes flicking from the flowers to your face and back again and somewhere behind that intense blush his mind had clearly wandered off into a quiet, private daydream—you in a wedding dress, soft light, no crowds, no noise, just the two of you and maybe a very small, very peaceful ceremony where no one expected him to make a speech. The image made the corner of his mouth twitch upward for half a second before he caught himself and looked away.
You stepped closer, bouquet in hand, and tilted your head.
“You okay?”
Sai swallowed, nodded too quickly, and mumbled something that might have been “cool” or “fine” or possibly just static. He shoved his hands into his pockets like he needed somewhere to put them before they did something embarrassing.
The rest of the evening he stayed close to you, quieter than usual, still pink around the ears every time someone mentioned the bouquet. He never brought up once the tradition by fear of getting pink again. He never joked about being next either by fear of simply fainting. He just kept glancing at you when he thought you weren’t looking as if the idea alone was enough to make the entire overwhelming wedding feel suddenly worth attending.
He looked a little happier—quietly, secretly, and completely in his own head.
Operation: First Time. || Portgas D. Ace x Reader.
Summary: You and Ace finally stop dancing around your feelings and start dating, but there's one problem: neither of you has any idea what you're doing. While you're both suffering from mutual frustration, Ace accidentally outs himself as a virgin and gets ambushed by the commanders with the world's most embarrassing relationship advice session. At the same time, the nurses decide you need a confidence boost and give you your own crash course.
Or: Ace asks the commanders for advice once, and they spend the next day wishing they had minded their own business after hearing exactly how enthusiastically he put their lessons into practice.
Tags: smut (mdni!!), first time sex, you're both virgins, oral sex (both receiving), vaginal sex, lots of fluff in it too cuz they love each other a lot and are awkward beans
Wordcount: 9.9k
A/N: first ace story ladies and gents (but definitely not my last hehe)!! this was so so much fun to write so i hope y'all enjoy this too😭🫶 also guys i started writing my book and like,,, fanfics are so much easier, send help lmao also i had to use an ai tool to get the formatting right, really sorry just wanna say that early on but my google docs fucked up the formating the entire time, i spent HOURS on it and i didnt do anything different so im very confused, but yeah figured id just say it, no writing or editing was actually done with it!! really just the formatting!! as always, pls like, reblog and comment! divider credits go to @cursed-carmine <33
The Moby Dick was more than a ship: for you, it was the only home you had ever truly known. As one of the few women on the crew and the youngest member by a significant margin, except Ace that is, you had been adopted into the fold with a ferocity that was both heartwarming and slightly suffocating.
From the moment you stepped on deck, you became the collective little sister of the Whitebeard Pirates.
Pops doted on you with a booming laugh and a gentle hand on your head. Marco looked after you with a sleepy, protective eye. Thatch constantly tried to feed you delicacies from the galley, and Izou spent hours ensuring your wardrobe was as sharp and stylish as his own. You were the heart of the ship, the precious gem they all swore to protect.
But there was one person who looked at you differently.
Portgas D. Ace.
For months, the two of you had been locked in a dance of agonizing tension. It was a clumsy, electric lingo of lingering glances, accidental brushes of shoulders, and conversations that trailed off into heavy silences. Everyone saw it. The entire crew saw it. Whitebeard would often chuckle into his massive sake cup, watching the two of you stumble through a simple conversation, while Marco would sigh, wondering when the idiot Second Commander would finally grow a pair and make a move.
Then, finally, it happened. A moonlit night on the upper deck, a shared bottle of something strong, and a confession that had been bubbling over for half a year.
You were finally, officially together.
However, “together” was currently a very relative term. While the emotional bond was searingly hot, the physical side of things was… Well, at a complete standstill.
You were both shy in your own ways, and Ace, despite his reputation as a bold, fire-wielding powerhouse, was surprisingly hesitant. He treated you like you were made of the finest porcelain, terrified that if he pushed too hard or too fast, he might break the spell.
Of course, this hesitation didn’t stop his imagination.
Ace was twenty years old, brimming with testosterone and hopelessly in love. Every single night, while you slept soundly in your quarters, Ace was in his own bunk, tossing and turning. He spent hours just staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying the way your laugh sounded or the way your skin felt when you held his hand. He spent a great deal of time with his hand wrapped firmly around his dick, groaning your name into his pillow, struggling through the solitary release because the reality of you was so much more intoxicating than any fantasy. He was a virgin, a fact he guarded with a fierce, embarrassed pride, but his libido was currently at a breaking point. He wanted you - deeply, desperately - but he had absolutely no idea what he was actually doing.
The afternoon sun was beating down on the Moby Dick, leaving the crew drenched in sweat and grime. As per tradition, the men headed to the massive communal baths to scrub off the dirt from the day and relax. The bathhouse was filled with the boisterous shouting of dozens of pirates splashing around in the hot springs.
Ace sat submerged up to his chest in the steaming water, his eyes closed, leaning his head back against the smooth stone. Even here, in the company of his brothers, his mind was drifting. He was thinking about the way your dress had hugged your curves this morning, and the way you had winked at him before heading to help the nurses. He felt a familiar, insistent throb in his groin, and he cursed silently, sinking deeper into the water to hide the evidence of his distraction.
Nearby, Thatch, Marco, Vista, Jozu and Haruta were lounging in a larger pool, the conversation flowing as freely as the sake they had bought along. As was common in the baths, the talk had eventually shifted toward the… romantic exploits of the crew.
“I’m telling you,” Thatch bragged, gesturing wildly with a soapy hand, “the girl in the last port had a passion for the culinary arts that matched my own. The way she looked at me while I was describing the perfect reduction sauce… it was practically foreplay. By the time we got to the room, we didn’t even make it to the bed.”
Vista chuckled, twirling a lock of his mustache. “Ah, Thatch, you always lead with the stomach. For me, it is all about the grace of it. The anticipation is where the true pleasure lies.”
Marco let out a lazy hum, his eyes half-closed. “You’re both too loud, yoi. The best way is just to be attentive. Listen to what she wants, follow the lead, and you’ll do just fine. No need to make it complicated.”
Ace listened to them, his brow furrowed. He felt a surge of inadequacy. He loved you more than life itself, and he wanted to make you feel everything they were talking about, but as he listened to their elaborate terminology he realized there was a massive gap in his knowledge. He knew the basics, of course, but the actual mechanics of pleasing a woman were a mystery to him.
He looked at his brothers - men who were older and seemed so confident, so experienced. He trusted them. And more importantly, he was currently suffering from a level of horniness that made his brain malfunction. And so he did something he would 100% come to regret later on.
“Hey,” Ace blurted out, his voice cutting through the laughter.
The group fell silent, looking over at him. Ace rubbed the back of his neck, his face already beginning to tint pink. “I… uh… how do you actually please a woman?”
The silence that followed was absolute.
Thatch froze mid-gesture. Marco actually opened one eye. Even Vista’s mustache stopped twitching. They all stared at Ace, the realization hitting them like a cannonball to the chest.
“... Wait,” Thatch whispered, his eyes widening. “Ace… are you telling me you’ve never…?”
“Never what?!” Ace snapped, his temper flaring as he felt the heat rise to his cheeks.
“You’re a virgin!” Haruta shrieked, splashing water everywhere in his excitement. “Our 2nd commander is a total novice! A blank slate! A babe in the woods!”
“Shut up!” Ace yelled, his skin starting to smoke as his Devil Fruit reacted to his embarrassment. “I just… I want to do it right! Y/N is… she’s special! I don’t want to mess it up!”
The tone of the room shifted instantly. The mockery vanished, replaced by a sudden, intense sense of brotherhood. These were his brothers, and the mission had now become clear: Ace needed a crash course in the art of intimacy. Mainly so that he wouldn’t hurt you, their only little sister.
“My god,” Marco sighed, though there was a smirk on his face. “We’ve been letting you wander around like a lost puppy. Sit down, Ace. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but we’re having a meeting.”
The commanders closed in around him, forming a tight, steaming circle. Ace looked like he wanted to melt into the floor, but he stayed, his curiosity and desperation ultimately outweighing his shame.
“Alright, listen up, kid,” Thatch began, his voice taking on the tone of a master chief explaining a complex recipe. “First rule: the main event is not the goal. The goal is the journey. If you just dive straight in, you’re like a guy who serves the dessert before the appetizer. It’s a crime! Scandalous even! You have to start with the build-up. Kissing, obviously, but don’t just stay on the lips. The neck is a goldmine, Ace. The collarbone. The soft spot behind the ear. You tease and you make her ache for it.”
Ace swallowed hard, his imagination immediately firing off images of you arching your back as he kissed your neck. He let out a small, strangled noise.
“Exactly,” Vista added, nodding approvingly. “The psychological element is key. Tell her how beautiful she is. Tell her exactly what you want to do to her before you actually do it. The anticipation builds the tension, and when the tension finally snaps, the pleasure is ten times more intense. You can trust us old folks on that.”
“Now, let’s talk about the… logistics,” Marco said, his voice practical. “The clitoris, Ace. Pay attention. For most women, that’s the center of the universe. If you just focus on the penetration, you’re missing the party. Use your fingers, use your tongue - be gentle at first, then increase the pressure based on how she reacts. If she starts breathing heavily and gripping the sheets, you’re on the right track, yoi.”
Ace was staring at them with wide, dinner-plate eyes, his face a deep shade of crimson. “The… the tongue?”
“Yes, the tongue!” Thatch exclaimed. “It’s called oral, you idiot! You spend time down there. You treat it like a delicacy. You taste her, you explore, you make her come before you even think about putting your dick in. That’s how you become a legend in the bedroom.”
Jozu, who had been mostly silent, grunted in agreement. “And don’t rush the entry. Slow and steady. Make sure she’s wet - and if she’s not, use your hands and mouth until she is. Forcing it is a one-way ticket to a slap in the face.”
“What about… positions?” Ace asked in a small, hesitant voice.
The brothers shared a look and grinned. This was the part they had been truly waiting for.
“Right! Positions!” Thatch stood up, using his arms to demonstrate. “You’ve got your classic Missionary - good for intimacy, looking into her eyes and kissing her, you get the gist. But if you want something with more… impact… you go for Doggy Style. You get behind her, grip those hips, and really lean into it. It allows for deeper penetration, and let me tell you, the view from back there is a masterpiece.”
“Don’t forget the Cowgirl;” Izou chimed in, having joined the conversation. Ace didn’t even see nor hear him coming, that’s how immersed he was. “Let her be on top. It gives her control over the depth and the speed, and you get to watch everything. There is nothing more erotic than seeing a woman take exactly what she wants from you.”
“And if you’re feeling adventurous,” Vista added with a wink, “try the legs-on-shoulders approach. It changes the angle, hits different spots, and lets you see every single expression on her face.”
Ace felt like his brain was melting. He was visualizing all of this - you on top of him, you arched over the bed, the feeling of your skin against his - and he was becoming painfully, visibly erect. The water around him was practically simmering.
“And for the love of Pops, Ace,” Marco warned, “don’t just go full speed from start to finish. Change the pace. Slow it down, speed it up. Tease her. Pull back just when she thinks you’re about to finish. Drive her crazy.
“I… I think I get it,” Ace gasped, feeling completely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information. He felt a mixture of terror and an almost uncontrollable urge to sprint out of the bathhouse and find you immediately.
“One more thing,” Thatch said, his expression becoming suddenly serious. “Communication. If she tells you something feels good, do more of that. If she just so much as winces, stop. The best lovers are the ones who listen the best.”
Ace nodded fervently, his heart hammering against his ribs. He felt like he had just survived a battle with a Yonko, but instead of a scar, he had a mental blueprint for the most intense night of his life. He couldn’t take it anymore; the tension in his body was too much, and the mental images were too vivid.
“I’m out! I’m leaving!” Ace yelled, suddenly standing up and splashing water everywhere. He didn’t even bother with a towel, grabbing his clothes in a blur of motion and sprinting toward the exit, his face glowing red like a flare.
As he scrambled through the doorway, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to escape the suffocating atmosphere of “brotherly advice”, a loud, booming voice echoed through the bathhouse.
“And Ace!” Thatch screamed after him, cupping his hands around his mouth. “You and Y/N don’t forget to use protection, okay?!”
The sound of Ace’s humiliated shriek echoed all the way down the hall as he vanished, leaving the commanders laughing hysterically in the steam.
Remember when you had told Ace you had to go and help the nurses? Yeah, you hadn’t actually been asked to help them. In fact, you’d practically forced your way in, offering your services as an “assistant” with a desperation that had raised a few eyebrows. But you weren’t there to fold bandages or organize tinctures. You were there because you were in a state of an absolute, agonizing crisis.
You were eighteen, hopelessly in love, and currently vibrating with a level of sexual frustration that felt like it might actually cause you to spontaneously combust.
The problem was your boyfriend.
Ace was, by every objective standard, a masterpiece of a man. He was twenty, brimming with a magnetic energy that seemed to pull everyone toward him. And then there were his… well, physical assets. The golden-tan skin, the dusting of freckles across his nose, and the fact that he spent approximately 99% of his waking life shirtless. You had spent months memorizing the ripple of his abdominal, the breadth of his shoulders, and the way his chest heaved when he laughed.
You wanted him. You wanted him with an intensity that terrified you. But you were shy - painfully so - and Ace, despite his reputation, was treating you like you were made of sugar. He kissed you sweetly; he held your hand with a tenderness that made your heart ache; he looked at you with such pure and unadulterated devotion that you felt like the center of his universe.
But he didn’t move.
As frustrated as you were, you had even gone so far as to sneak into a boutique at the last port, spending a small fortune on a set of lingerie. It was a deep, sultry crimson that you were certain would make his brain short-circuit, but it currently sat untouched in your chest, because every time you thought about putting it on, your face heated up and you imagined him looking at you with those wide, innocent eyes and you simply lost your nerve.
“Alright, sweetheart, enough with the daydreaming. If you’re going to “help” us, you might as well be honest about why you’re really here,” a voice called out.
You jumped, nearly knocking over a tray of saline solution or whatever they had called it. Nurse Hana, a woman in her thirties with a sharp gaze and a knowing smirk, was leaning against a cabinet, arms crossed. Beside her, Nurse Mimi, who was younger and significantly more mischievous, was giggling behind her hand.
You felt the heat crawl up your neck. “I… I just thought…”
“You’re thinking about our dear second commander,” Mimi chirped, stepping closer. “We got you figured out, sweetie. We’ve seen the way you look at him. And we’ve seen the way he looks at you. “It’s like watching two magnets that are too scared to actually click together. It’s exhausting for the rest of us, really.”
You slumped against the table, defeated. “Is it that obvious?”
“Honey, the entire crew is betting on when you two will finally stop just flirting and actually get laid,” Hana said bluntly.
You gasped, your face turning a shade of red that rivaled the lingerie you were currently wearing.
“I- we- it’s not like that!”
“Oh, please,” Mimi laughed, pulling you towards a cluster of chairs in the back of the ward where they were taking their break. “Sit. Tell us everything. What’s the hold-up? Is he not interested? Is he… lacking in the equipment department?”
“No!” You whispered urgently. “He’s perfect! He’s more than perfect! He’s just… he’s so gentle. I don’t know how to make him realize that I want him to stop being gentle. I don’t know how to start it without it being weird!”
The two nurses exchanged a look. A predatory one.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Hana sighed, though her eyes were twinkling. “You’re trying to wait for the man to lead, but Ace is a dork. A hot, muscular, oblivious dork. Men like that often need a very clear map to their destination. They’re terrified of overstepping, especially when they’re as smitten as he is.”
“So… what do I do?” you asked, your voice small.
Mimi leaned in, her expression becoming intensely focused. She clearly enjoyed this. “First of all, we need to talk about the visual. Do you have anything… provocative? Something that says ‘I am not a doll, I am a woman who wants you to take her’?”
You hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I have… some lace. Red.”
“Are you wearing it right now?”
“... Maybe.”
Mimi let out a triumphant shriek. “Perfect! Absolute gold! Listen to me: you tease him with it. You let him see a strap. You let him catch a glimpse of a thigh. Until he finally crumbles.”
For the next hour, the infirmary became a classroom of a very different sort than the one Ace was currently attending in the baths. While the commanders were giving Ace a technical manual on the mechanics of pleasure, the nurses were giving you a masterclass in the art of seduction.
And they were explicit.
“Don’t just wait for him to kiss you,” Hana instructed, gesturing with her hands. “Take the lead. Grab him by the back of the neck - he loves that, trust me, men with those shoulders have a weakness for being pulled in. Bite his lower lip. Just a little bit. It signals that you’re demanding his affection, not just accepting it.”
You felt dizzy just listening to her. “B-bite him?”
“Yes, bite him!” Mimi added enthusiastically. “And once you get him in the bedroom, don’t just lie there. Use your body. Rub yourself against him. Let him feel how much you want him through your clothes first. The friction is what drives him crazy, trust me. And for the love of God, use your hands. Explore him. He’s shirtless all day, right? Use that. Trace the lines of his muscles, linger on his chest, move down… slowly… until he’s practically begging you.”
“But what if I don’t know what to do… down there?” you whispered, your heart hammering.
Hana leaned back, her expression softening but remaining frank. “Listen, the first time is always a bit of a mess. He’s probably just as nervous as you are. The secret isn’t perfection, so don’t overthink what you should do for now; it’s enthusiasm. If you’re making noise, if you’re arching your back, if you’re telling him exactly how good he feels, he’ll feed off that. Guide him. If he goes somewhere you don’t like, move his hand. If he hits a spot that makes your toes curl, moan. Loudly. Men are simple creatures, they just want to know they’re winning.”
Mimi winked at you. “And remember: the more you treat it like a delicious secret you’re sharing, the more he’ll lose his mind. Seduction isn’t about the build-up. Make him ache for it. Make him feel like he’s starving and you’re the only feast in the world able to satisfy him.”
By the time you left the infirmary, your head was spinning. You felt like you had been given a secret weapon, but the weight of actually using it felt monumental. You walked back toward your quarters, your legs feeling a bit like jelly, the nurses’ voices echoing in your mind: Bite his lip. Use your hands. Make him ache.
As you reached your door, you saw a flash of orange and black.
Ace was standing there, leaning against the railing, looking like he had just stepped out of a storm. His hair was still damp, clinging to his forehead, and he was wearing his usual trousers, his chest bare and glistening slightly in the fading light.
He looked… different. He looked wired.
There was a strange, frantic energy in his eyes, a mixture of sheer terror and an almost violent level of horniness, that you had never seen in him before.
“Hey,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, his face flushing a deep crimson. “Hey, Y/N.”
You stopped, your breath catching. You looked at his broad shoulders, the way the muscles of his chest flexed as he breathed, and suddenly, all you could think was: He’s a feast.
“Hi, Ace,” you replied, your voice sounding breathier than you intended.
He shifted his weight, looking everywhere but at you. “I… uh… the baths were… really educational. I mean! Not that I learned anything! I just… the guys were talking. About… stuff.”
You blinked. Educational? A sudden, suspicious thought crossed your mind. Had Ace been talking to the other commanders? Had he received his own version of the “crash course”?
The realization of that possibility sent a jolt of electricity through you. If he was just as desperate and “educated” as you were, then the tension between you was now stretched to the breaking point.
“Is that so?” you asked, taking a daring step closer.
Ace jumped slightly, his eyes finally snapping to yours. The look in them was searing. He looked like he wanted to devour you and apologize for it at the same time. “Yeah. I mean, I just… I really love you, Y/N. And I want… I want to be good for you. I want to make sure everything is… perfect.”
The “perfect” comment hit you right in the heart, but it also gave you the opening you needed. You remembered Hana’s words: Don’t wait for the man to lead.
You reached out, your hands trembling slightly, and pressed your palm flat against his chest. His skin was scorching - literally. He let out a sharp, strangled gasp, his entire body stiffening at the contact.
“Ace,” you whispered, sliding your hand upward, tracing the line of his pectoral muscle up toward his collarbone. “I don’t want perfect.”
Ace’s pupils dilated until his eyes were almost entirely black. He looked like he had forgotten how to breathe. “You… you don’t?”
“No,” you murmured, stepping into his space until your chest was brushing against his. You could feel the heat radiating off him in waves. “I just want you.”
Ace made a sound - a low, needy whimper that sent heat straight to your core. He instinctively reached out to wrap his arms around you, but he hesitated, his hands hovering an inch from your waist, still terrified of breaking you.
You didn’t let him hesitate. You reached up, grabbed the back of his neck - just like Hana said - and pulled him down.
What followed wasn’t a sweet kiss. It wasn’t the tentative, tasting-the-water kind of kiss you were used to. You slammed your lips against his with a hunger that surprised even you, and as you did, you caught his lower lip between your teeth and gave it a sharp, experimental nip.
Ace practically exploded.
A muffled sound escaped his throat, and his arms now fully slammed around you, hosting you off your feet and pinning you against the wooden wall of the corridor with a thud that probably woke up half the ship. He kissed you back with a desperation that was almost violent, his tongue seeking yours with a clumsy, frantic energy.
He was shaking. God, he was actually shaking in your arms.
“Y/N,” he gasped, breaking the kiss for a split second to press his forehead against yours. His breath was hot, his voice a ragged wreck. “I don’t… I’ve never… I don’t know if I’m doing this right!”
You laughed, a small, breathless sound, and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “Neither do I, Ace. Just… just keep going.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He carried you into your room, kicking the door shut behind him with a loud bang.
The moment you hit the bed, Ace was a whirlwind of passion and total incompetence. He tried to be the suave, confident lover the commanders had described, but his nerves were shot. He went to pull your shirt over your head, but he got caught on your arm, nearly pulling you off the bed in the process.
“Sorry! I’m sorry!” he yelped, his face turning bright red. “I just- I wanted to be smooth! Thatch said the build-up is everything, and I’m like really trying to build it, but I’m just-”
You giggled, pulling him back down by his collar. “Ace, stop listening to Thatch. Just look at me.”
He stopped, his gaze falling on you. The heat in his eyes returned, that raw, hungry intensity that made your stomach flip. He leaned down, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, his movements becoming more confident as he stopped listening to his spiraling thoughts and started following the instincts of a man who had been starving for months.
Then, he felt it. The lace.
As he shifted his weight, his hand brushed against the edge of the crimson lingerie you were wearing beneath your clothes. He froze, his hands pausing on your hip. “What… is this?” he whispered, his voice sounding like it had been dragged through gravel.
“A surprise,” you whispered back, reaching down to slowly slide the fabric of your shirt where he had previously failed upward, revealing the intricate, daring red lace that hugged your curves.
Ace stared. Actually, he didn’t just stare; he looked like he had seen a vision of the gods. His jaw actually dropped, and for a moment, he looked completely paralyzed.
“You… you’re wearing… that’s… you look…” He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. “I think my brain just melted. Y/N, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my entire life.”
The sincerity in his voice was so overwhelming that it almost broke the mood, but then he groaned, a deep, guttural sound of pure longing, and buried his face in the crook of your neck.
“I can’t… I can’t take it anymore,” he whimpered. “I want you so bad it hurts.”
You felt a surge of confidence, remembering the nurses’ advice. You reached down, your fingers brushing against the waistband of his trousers, and you felt him jump, a sharp intake of breath hissing through his teeth.
“Is this okay?” you whispered.
“Yes,” he gasped, his eyes wide and blown out. “Yes, please, anything, just… don’t stop.”
The next few minutes were a chaotic mix of tension and absolute clumsiness. Ace tried to implement the “slow and steady” approach Marco had suggested, but every time your skin touched his, he seemed to forget how to function. He tried to kiss your neck while simultaneously trying to remove his trousers, resulting in him accidentally rolling off the side of the bed with a loud thump.
You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach.
Ace popped his head up from the floor, his hair a disaster, his face flushed, looking like a giant, albeit horny golden retriever.
“I’m okay! I’m fine! I just… the angle was off!”
You reached down, grabbing his hand and pulling him back up. “You’re a dork, Ace.”
“Your dork,” he countered, lunging back onto the bed and pinning you beneath him. Now, the laughter faded, replaced by a heavy, seething heat. The air in the room felt thick, charged with the scent of the sea outside, fire, and an unbearable amount of anticipation.
Ace hovered over you, his muscles trembling with the effort of holding himself back. He looked at you - really looked at you - and the clumsiness vanished, replaced by a tenderness that was almost spiritual. He traced the line of your lip with his thumb, his expression one of pure awe.
“I love you,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I’m so nervous, Y/N. I really want this to be perfect for you.”
“It already is,” you replied, pulling his head down for another kiss.
As he began to explore your body, his hands shaking but his touch becoming more sure, you felt the world outside the room disappear. There was no Moby Dick, no Pops, none of your brothers - just the heat of his skin against yours and the rhythmic thud of two hearts beating in sync.
He moved down, his kisses trailing over your stomach, his breath hot against your skin. He remembered what Marco had mentioned, and you could tell he was thinking hard about it. He paused, his head tilting as he tried to remember exactly where the “center of the universe” was.
You let out a soft, encouraging moan, arching your back and guiding him with your hips. You had gotten rid of your shorts and underwear a long time ago.
“Right. There. Yes,” he whispered to himself, sounding like a student taking a final exam.
When he finally made contact with his tongue, you let out a sharp, loud cry, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The sensation was electric, a sudden explosion of pleasure that made your vision blur.
Ace froze, his eyes snapping up to yours, wide with panic. “Did I hurt you?! Did I do it wrong?! Oh god, I’m sorry, I-”
“No!” you gasped, pulling him back down. “No, Ace… it’s perfect. Don’t stop. Please, please, please.”
He let out a long, shuddering breath, a look of intense relief washing over him. He sank back into you with his tongue, his movements becoming more fluid and instinctive. The “education” from his brothers was still there in the back of his mind, but as the heat rose, only the raw, honest desire of two people who loved each other far more than they knew how to handle was left.
The tension eventually reached a fever pitch. Ace was hovering over you, his chest heaving, his eyes locked onto yours with a searing intensity that made you feel like you were melting into the sheets. He was a mess of freckles, sweat, and unbridled passion.
“I’m going to…” he started, his voice breaking. “I can’t… Y/N, I can’t hold it…”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down so there was no space left between you, your heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
“Then don’t hold it,” you whispered. “Just give it to me.”
The tension had reached a point where it was no longer sustainable. With a ragged groan, Ace shifted, his movement hurried yet cautious, as he finally managed to rid himself of the last of his clothing.
For a moment, you simply froze.
You had spent months imagining him, memorizing every single visible inch of his shirtless torso, but you were entirely unprepared for the sight of him fully exposed. As he settled down between your thighs, the moonlight filtering through the porthole illuminated him, and your breath hitched in your threat.
He was magnificent.
You had never seen a man like this before - not really. You had heard the nurses talk, and you had caught glimpses of the crew in the baths, but this was different. This was Ace. He was thick and heavy, his length impressive and pulsing with a life of its own. He was already leaking, a small, glistening bead of pre-cum crowning the head of his cock, shimmering in the dim light. He looked desperate, his vein-mapped length twitching with every erratic beat of his heart.
You felt a wave of intense, dizzying curiosity wash over you. Your eyes widened, tracing the curve and the sheer size of him. He looked so powerful, yet as he looked down at you, his expression was one of complete, vulnerable surrender. He was trembling, his chest heaving, looking as though he might actually combust if you didn’t touch him soon.
“Y/N,” he rasped, his voice barely a whisper, sounding completely wrecked. “I…I’m sorry if it’s… too much. I don’t know if I’m… normal.”
The slight insecurity in his voice, despite the imposing sight of him, made your heart swell. You reached out, your fingers hovering just an inch from his skin.
You could feel the heat off him, a literal warmth that made your fingertips tingle.
“Can I…?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Can I touch you, Ace?”
He let out a half-sob, half-groan, his eyes closing tight. “Yes,” he choked out, “God, yes. Please.”
As your fingers finally made contact, Ace let out a sharp, strangled gasp. His skin was scorching, smoother than you expected, and incredibly sensitive. You started slowly, your hand wrapping around the base of him. You were surprised by how your hand couldn’t even fully close around the girth of him; he filled your palm and then some.
You felt him jump under your touch, a violent shiver racking his entire frame. You began to move your hand, a tentative, sliding motion upward to the crown. The feeling of the slick moisture between your skin and his made a small, needy sound escape your lips.
“Oh god,” Ace whimpered, his head falling back against the pillows. “Y/N… you’re… you’re actually doing it. You’re touching me. This… holy shit.”
You gained confidence, remembering the nurses’ advice about enthusiasm. You tightened your grip slightly and increased the pace, sliding your hand up and down the length of him. The friction was intoxicating. You watched him, captivated by the way his abdominal muscles rippled and clenched with every stroke.
Ace began to make sounds you had never heard of him - high-pitched moans and frequent whines that vibrated through the mattress. He gripped the sheets beside your head, his knuckles white, his hips beginning to stutter-step upward, instinctively seeking more pressure.
“Right there… just like that,” he gasped, his voice breaking. “Please, don’t stop… don’t ever stop.”
You shifted your body, rubbing your thigh against his hip, wanting to feel as much of him as possible. You started to move faster, your palm slick with his arousal, the sound of the wet filling the quiet room. Ace was practically sobbing now, his breath coming in short, jagged bursts. He looked absolutely desperate, his eyes blown wide and glazed with a level of pleasure that seemed to be bordering on pain.
Driven by a sudden, daring impulse, you decided to try something more. You slid down the bed, your hair spilling over his thighs, and looked up at him.
Ace looked down at you, his face a mask of pure shock. “What are you… Y/N?”
You didn’t answer. Instead, you leaned forward and opened your mouth, tentatively taking the head of his cock inside.
The sensation was overwhelming for both of you. The taste of him was salty and warm, and the feeling of him filling your mouth was an intimacy that felt almost sacred. You swirled your tongue around the tip, mimicking the movements you’d imagined doing countless times already.
The reaction was instantaneous.
Ace let out a scream - a loud, shocked sound that was cut off as his entire body went rigid. He didn’t even have time to move his hips; the mere sensation of your mouth, the warmth and the wetness, was the final straw for his overstimulated nerves.
He bucked upward, his hands flying to your shoulders to steady himself, and then he exploded.
You felt the hot pulses of his release hitting the back of your throat, a sudden flood of heat that left you breathless. He came with a violence that surprised you, his body shaking with powerful, uncontrollable spasms as he emptied himself into you.
He groaned your name over and over, until he finally collapsed back into the bed, completely spent.
Silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of your synchronized, heavy breathing.
You slowly pulled away, licking your lips, and looked up at him. Ace was staring at the ceiling, his chest still heaving, his face a shade of red that rivaled his necklace. He looked utterly devastated.
“I… I did it,” he whispered, his voice sounding hollow. “I actually… I lasted about three seconds.”
He covered his face with his hands, a muffled groan of pure embarrassment escaping him. “I’m such an idiot. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted to be a legend in the bedroom like Thatch said, and I just… I just blew it immediately.”
You felt a wave of tenderness wash over you. You crawled back up his body, pressing your chest against his, and kissed his cheek softly.
“Ace, look at me,” you murmured.
He peeked through his fingers, his eyes wide and sheepish.
“It was perfect,” you whispered, smiling. “You were so… intense. And I’ve never had anyone make me feel the way you do. Who cares about being a legend? I just want you. You’re allowed to not immediately get everything right during your first time.”
Ace let out a long, shuddering breath, the tension leaving his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against his chest, burying his face in your neck. “You’re too good to me, Y/N.” I don’t deserve you.”
“Hush,” you giggled, rubbing his back.
As you lay there, you felt a familiar, aching throb between your own legs. Ace had found his release, but you were still vibrating, your body humming with a need that hadn’t been satisfied from his earlier try.
You shifted slightly, rubbing your center against his thigh, and let out a small, involuntary moan.
Ace stiffened, his senses returning. He pulled back slightly, looking at your flushed face and the way your eyes were clouded with desire. He looked down at your lower half, then back at you, a look of realization dawning on his face.
“You’re… you’re still…”
“I am,” you whispered, your voice sounding small and needy. “Ace… I’ve never… I’ve never had an orgasm. I don’t know how it feels.”
The embarrassment vanished from Ace’s face, replaced by a fierce intensity. He might have been a novice, but the love he felt for you was a powerful motivator.
“I’m going to give it to you,” he vowed, his voice returning to that low tone that made your toes curl. “I don’t care if I’m a dork. I’m going to make you feel everything and do it right this time.”
He moved with a new kind of purpose. He shifted his body, gently pushing you back onto the pillows and sliding down between your legs. You gasped as he parted your thighs again, his eyes admiring you with a reverence that made you feel like a goddess.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his breath hot against your inner thigh.
He started with his mouth once again, kissing the soft skin of your legs, moving higher and higher. You trembled, your fingers digging into the sheets as he approached the center of your heat. When his tongue finally made contact with your clitoris, you let out a sharp, loud cry, your hips arching off the bed.
“Is this… is this still right? Like before?” he asked, glancing up at you, his lips glistening.
“Yes!” you gasped. “Oh god, yes, right there!”
Ace didn’t need further instruction. He dove back in, his tongue working with a rhythmic intensity that made you see stars. He was applying the lessons from the baths perfectly after a little but of fooling around. You were a mess already, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
Then, he added his fingers.
He slid two fingers inside you, the friction of his movement complementing the stimulation of his tongue. You felt full, stretched, and utterly consumed by him.
You began to moan loudly, the sound echoing in the small room, your head tossing from side to side.
“That’s it, Y/N… just let go,” Ace murmured against your skin, his voice encouraging. “Tell me what you need.”
“More… please, Ace, more!” you cried out, your voice breaking.
He increased the pressure, his fingers curling upward, hitting a spot that sent a jolt of pure electricity through your entire spine. You felt a tension building deep within you, a coil tightening tighter and tighter until it felt like you were about to snap.
The world blurred. The sounds of the ship faded. There was only the heat of Ace’s mouth and the rhythmic drive of his hand.
Suddenly, the coil snapped.
A wave of intense, crashing pleasure slammed into you, starting at your core and radiating outward to the tips of your fingers. You screamed his name, your body shaking in a violent, prolonged orgasm that felt like a thousand suns exploding behind your eyelids. You gripped his hair, pulling him closer as you rode the wave of pleasure, your breath hitching in a series of sobbing gasps.
As the intensity slowly faded, you collapsed back into the mattress, completely limp and glowing.
Ace pulled back, looking up at you with a triumphant, beaming smile. He looked proud and his eyes were shining with affection.
“Did I… did I do it?” he asked breathlessly.
You couldn’t even speak for a moment.
You just reached down and pulled him up, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him with everything you had.
“You did it, Ace,” you whispered against his lips that tasted like your juices. “You did it perfectly.”
He let out a contended sigh, rolling over to pull you into the crook of his arm.
You lay entwined in Ace’s arms, your breath finally beginning to level out, your skin humming with a glow that had nothing to do with the dim moonlight filtering through the porthole. For a few minutes, the world was nothing but the steady, thumping rhythm of Ace’s heart against your ear and the soft, contented sighs he let out into your hair.
But as the initial haze of the orgasm receded, a new kind of tension began to coil in the pit of your stomach. You were satisfied, yes, but there was still a lingering, hollow ache. The “main event” was still looming, a mountain neither of you had ever climbed, and the anticipation was starting to feel like a physical weight.
Ace seemed to be feeling it too. You could tell by the way his grip on you tightened slightly, his fingers tracing mindlessly, shaky patterns across your lower back. He was quiet, but his body was radiating a heat that was bordering on feverish.
“Y/N?” he whispered, his voice still a ragged, low wreck.
“Yeah?” you murmured, tilting your head back to look at him.
He looked completely undone. His freckles seemed to stand out more against his flushed skin, and his eyes were wide, searching your face with a mixture of raw adoration and a mounting, desperate nervousness. He looked like a man standing on the edge of a cliff, terrified of the fall but dying to jump.
“I… I want to,” he started, his voice cracking. “I mean, if you’re still up for it. I don’t want to rush you, or… or make you feel like I’m just trying to get to the end. I just… I really want to be inside you.”
The honesty in his voice sent a shiver of heat straight to your core. You didn’t answer with words; instead, you shifted your body, sliding your leg over his hip and pulling him closer, your chest brushing against his. You could feel him stirring against you, the hard, pulsing length of him returning with a vengeance, pressing firmly against your thigh.
“I want you too, Ace,” you breathed.
A low, guttural sound escaped his throat, and for a second, it looked like he might just dive in, driven by pure instinct. But then, a flicker of memory crosses his face.
He froze, his eyes widening as he remembered the final piece of advice from Thatch.
“Right! Protection!” he gasped, suddenly scrambling backward.
The sudden movement was so abrupt that he nearly rolled off the bed again. You let out a startled giggle as he frantically began searching through his trousers, which were discarded in a heap on the floor. He dove into the fabric, his movements chaotic and hurried, until he finally produced a small, square foil packet.
He held it up like it was a piece of ancient treasure, staring at it with a look of profound confusion.
“How… how does this actually work again?” he muttered to himself, his brow furrowed in intense concentration.
You watched, half-amused and half-endeared, as the formidable second commander of the Whitebeard Pirates engaged in a life-or-death struggle with a piece of latex. He tried to open the packet with his teeth, but in his haste, he nearly ripped the condom itself. He let out a small, panicked yelp, his face turning a shade of crimson that rivaled the ripe tomatoes in Thatch’s kitchen.
“Dammit! Thatch made it sound so easy!” he hissed, his fingers fumbling with the edges of the foil. “He just said ‘use protection’, he didn’t give me a manual!”
“Do you want help?” you offered, your voice trembling with suppressed laughter.
“No! No, I got this! I’m a pirate! I can handle a small piece of rubber!” he declared with a burst of misplaced confidence.
He finally managed to get the condom out, but then came the actual application.
Because he was so wired - his heart racing and his hands shaking from the sheer intensity of his arousal - the process was anything but smooth. He struggled to get the positioning right, his fingers slipping, his movements clumsy. At one point, he accidentally pinched himself, letting out a sharp “Ow!” that made you burst into full-blown laughter.
“Stop laughing!” he groaned, though he was grinning despite his obvious frustration. “This is a high-stress operation!”
After several minutes of trial and error, and a fair amount of breathless cursing, he finally managed it. He let out a triumphant huff, looking at himself with a sense of accomplishment as if he had just navigated the Grand Line without a Log Pose.
He crawled back over to you, his eyes darkening as he settled between your thighs. The atmosphere shifted instantly from comedic to searing. The laughter died away, replaced by a heavy, expectant silence. Ace hovered over you, his arms shaking as he braced himself on either side of your head.
“Are you… are you okay? Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice dripping with so much love it made a genuine smile break out on your lips. He was perfect.
“I’m sure, Ace. Just… be gentle,” you whispered back.
He nodded, his expression one of absolute focus. He guided himself to your entrance, the tip of him brushing against you. You felt a sharp intake of breath from both of you. The heat radiating off him was immense, and as he began to push forward, the sensation was unlike anything you had ever experienced.
“It wasn’t the effortless slide the commanders had implied to him. Instead, it was a slow, pressured stretch. You felt your muscles tighten instinctively, a small gasp of discomfort escaping your lips as you felt the sheer girth of him filling you.
Ace stopped instantly. He froze, his muscles locking up, his eyes wide with terror.
“No,” you gasped, reaching up to cup his face, your fingers digging into his cheeks. “No, don’t stop. It’s just… it’s a lot. It’s just the first time. Just… stay still for a second. Let me get used to it.”
Ace stayed perfectly still, though he looked like he was vibrating. He was holding his breath, his chest heaving, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that felt like it could burn through the sheet. You could feel him pulsing inside you, a heavy, insistent throb that echoed the beat of your own heart.
Slowly, the initial discomfort began to face, replaced by a feeling of incredible fullness.
It was an overwhelming sensation, a physical connection so deep it felt emotional. You shifted your hips slightly, testing the feeling, and let out a long, shaky sigh of relief.
“Okay,” you whispered, your voice breathy and warm. “I’m okay. You… you can move now, Ace.”
You expected him to dive in right in. Instead, the moment you gave him permission, Ace let put a sound that could only be described as a whimper.
He didn’t move. In fact, he seemed to sink even deeper into the mattress, his forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder, his body shuddering violently.
“Ace?” you asked, confused. “Why aren’t you moving?”
He let out a choked, needy groan, his voice muffled against your skin. “I… I can’t,” he rasped, his breath hot and erratic.
“What do you mean you can’t?”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, and you saw that his eyes were completely glazed, his pupils blown wide. He looked absolutely wrecked to say the least.
“Y/N… you feel… holy shit, you feel so good,” he whimpered, a stray tear of sheer overstimulation pricking the corner of his eye. “If I move… if I even move an inch right now… I think I’m literally going to cum again. I can’t… I can’t handle it.”
You blinked, a small, surprised laugh escaping you. “Are you serious? You’re the second commander! You have legendary stamina!”
“Not when I’m inside you!” he wailed softly, his voice cracking. “It’s too much! It’s like… like I’m being hugged from the inside! I’m losing my mind, Y/N! I’m actually losing it!”
The sight of him - this powerful, stubborn pirate, completely defeated by the simple sensation of being inside you - was the most erotic thing you had ever seen. You felt a surge of playful confidence, remembering the nurses’ words about taking the lead.
You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, locking your ankles behind his back, and gave a sharp, deliberate tug, pulling him deeper.
Ace let out a loud, undignified shriek, his back arching off the bed. “OH GOD! STOP! NO, DON’T STOP! BUT STOP!”
“You’re such a dork,” you giggled, your voice dripping with affection. You began to move your hips in a slow, grinding circle, testing the friction.
Ace made a sound that was once again half-sob, half-moan. He gripped the headboard behind you so hard that the wood groaned under the pressure. “I’m going to die,” he gasped, his eyes rolling back. “I am actually going to die right here on this bed. This is it. Tell Pops I love him.”
“You’re not dying, Ace. You’re just sensitive and dramatic,” you teased, increasing the pace slightly.
As the rhythm established itself, Ace finally found his footing, his movements transitioning from erratic shudders to deep, purposeful thrusts. He wasn’t “smooth” in the way a seasoned lover might be - he was too eager, often pushing too fast or missing the angle - but every single movement was fueled by a level of devotion that was intoxicating.
“Is this… is this okay?” he panted, his voice returning to that low, commanding tone, though it was still punctuated by the occasional whimper. “Am I… am I doing it right?”
“Yes,” you moaned, your head tossing from side to side. “Right there… oh god, Ace, yes!”
Hearing your pleasure seemed to give him a second wind. He stopped worrying about the “manual” and started listening to your body. He remembered Marco’s words about changing the pace, slowing down just as you were reaching a peak, only to drive back in with a sudden intensity that made you scream his name.
The room felt like it was catching fire. The heat radiating from Ace’s skin was literal now, the air shimmering around him as his emotions flared. Every time he hit that specific spot you felt a jolt of electricity shoot through your spine, and Ace would let out a ragged, needy sound, as if he were the one receiving the pleasure.
“I love you,” he gasped, his voice breaking as he buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made your toes curl. “I love you so much, Y/N. I can’t… I can’t believe this is real.”
The emotional weight of his words, combined with the physical intensity of the act, pushed you over the edge. You felt the coil tighten, the tension building into a crescendo that felt like a tidal wave crashing over you. You gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his tan skin, and let out a loud, prolonged cry as your orgasm slammed into you.
Ace didn’t wait long to follow after you. The moment he felt your internal muscles clench around him in the throes of release, he lost the last shred of his control.
“Y/N!” he moaned, his voice echoing through the entire room.
He delivered one final, deep thrust, pinning you against the mattress with the full weight of his body. Then he stiffened, his muscles locking up in a violent spasm as he emptied himself into the condom. He groaned your name over and over, a long, shuddering release that left him completely spent, his breath coming in jagged, sobbing gasps.
For a long time, neither of you moved. You lay there in a tangle of sweaty limbs and tangled sheets, the only sound the creaking of the Moby Dick as it swayed in the ocean waves.
Eventually, Ace shifted, rolling to the side but keeping you tucked firmly against his chest. He let out a long, contented sigh, his eyes half-closed and dreamy.
“So,” you whispered, your voice sounding small and satisfied. “How was the ‘main event’?”
Ace let out a soft, sheepish chuckle, kissing the top of your head. “I think… I think I might have failed the technical part. I definitely… messed up on the way.”
You giggled, snuggling closer to him. “I don’t know. I think you did just fine for a novice.”
“A novice, huh?” He grinned, a flash of his usual confidence returning. He tightened his grip on you, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. “Well, the thing about novices is that they’re very eager to practice. I think I might need a few more… educational sessions. Just to make sure I’ve mastered the technique.”
You laughed, your heart full. “Is that so?”
“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice dropping back into that low, dangerous register as he began to nuzzle your ear. “I think we should probably start with a review of a few different positions. You know… for science.”
You laughed. “Hm. For science. Of course.”
The sun hadn’t even begun to peek over the horizon, and the Moby Dick was shrouded in a heavy, pre-dawn mist. At roughly 5:00 AM, the ship was usually silent, save for the rhythmic splashing of the waves and the occasional snoring of a crew member.
Except for the commander’s deck.
Edward Newgate, the strongest man in the world, stepped out onto the main deck for his early morning sake, his massive frame cutting through the fog. He stopped mid-strike, his eyes blinking in confusion. There, huddled around a small table on the docks of the upper deck, were his top commanders.
It was a sight that would have terrified any enemy fleet. Marco, Thatch, Vista, Jozu and Izou were all present, but they didn’t look like the formidable leaders of the Whitebeard Pirates. They looked like survivors of a shipwreck.
Marco was slumped over the table, his face pressed against the wood, one eye open and twitching. Thatch was staring blankly into a bottle of sake, drinking straight from the neck with a thousand-yard stare. Vista’s legendary mustache was drooping, and Izou was rubbing his temples with a look of profound spiritual exhaustion. Jozu was simply sitting in silence, staring at a wall as if trying to erase a memory from his soul.
They were surrounded by empty bottles and half-eaten plates of snacks, looking like they hadn’t slept in three days.
“Gurarara!” Whitebeard’s booming laugh echoed across the deck. “What in the world is this? A secret meeting?”
The commanders didn’t even jump. They didn’t have the energy to be startled.
Marco let out a slow, rattling sigh. “Pops… please. Just… stop talking. The vibrations of your voice are too much for my brain right now, yoi.”
Whitebeard paused, leaning down to peer at his sons. “You all look like you’ve been fighting a Yonko for forty-eight hours. What happened?”
Thatch slowly lifted his head. A single tear of regret rolled down his cheek. “Worse, Pops. Much worse.”
“Explain,” Whitebeard commanded, though he sounded amused.
“We gave him a crash course,” Izou whispered, his voice a mixture of horror and betrayal. “We thought we were being helpful. We thought we were guiding him. We thought we were protecting our little sister by ensuring Ace knew what he was doing.”
Whitebeard blinked. “Ace and Y/N? I figured they’d finally gotten around to it.”
At the mention of the couple, the entire group of commanders flinched simultaneously, as if they had been struck by a physical blow.
“You don’t understand, Pops,” Vista groaned, covering his eyes with one hand. “The walls on the commander’s floor are thick. They are very thick. But Ace… He really doesn’t do anything halfway. The sheer… volume… the enthusiasm… the screaming…”
“He’s a monster,” Jozu grunted, his voice hollow. “A loud, passionate monster.”
The commander shared a look of collective trauma. They had spent the last several hours trapped in a psychological war, listening to the evidence of Ace implementing every single piece of advice they had given him - and then some.
Because they saw you as their precious baby sister, every moan, every gasp, every loud thud against the wall had felt like a personal attack on their sanity.
Thatch suddenly slammed his bottle onto the table, his expression one of pure agony.
“I regret it!” he wailed, his voice cracking. “I regret teaching him! Why did I tell him about the neck?! Why did I mention the clitoris?! I’ve created a beast and now I have to live with the mental images!”
“I told him to change the pace, yoi,” Marco muttered into the table, sounding defeated. “I didn’t realize he’d take “driving her crazy” as a literal mission objective. I can still hear it. I can still hear her screaming his name. I think I have permanent hearing loss in my left ear.”
Whitebeard stared at them for a long moment, then he let out a laugh so massive it nearly knocked Thatch off his chair.
“Gurarara! It seems the boy is really thorough!”
“It’s not thorough, Pops! It’s an auditory assault!” Izou snapped, though he looked too tired to actually be angry.
Just as a heavy, blessed silence fell over the group, a sound drifted across the deck from the direction of the commander’s quarters.
“ACE! OH MY GOD, ACE-!!!”
The scream was followed by a loud, unmistakable THUMP that vibrated through the floorboards of the ship. The commanders froze. As one, they all slowly turned their heads toward the sound.
Thatch let out a broken whimper and leaned forward, burying his face in the sake bottle. Marco simply closed his eyes and began to pray to a god he didn’t even believe in.
“I’m retiring,” Marco whispered. “I’m leaving the crew. I’m moving to a deserted island where the only sound is the wind, yoi.”
First post on here!! Some screenshot edits I did of Dr stone, featuring mine and my friends headcanons of some of the main cast! Featuring: Chrome, Ginro, Tsukasa, Senku, Gen, Ryusui, and Kinro!
Also featuring said friends OC, who is in the 6th pic (the silver haired one with blue/green eyes)
Note, all of these are headcanons and for fun! :] if you don't like any of these design head canons feel free to move on <3
Yuzuriha hates Ryusui. What do you mean you buying all my stock that I spend DAYS ON AND STILL CHOOSE TO WEAR A SHIT ASS ROBE MADE OF SKIN. Who this guy thinks he is?
