#not proofread 👀

[eleganzadellarosa]

Forgive and Forget

pairing: mingyu x fem!reader

genre: smut (fluff if you pat your head and rub your stomach)

warnings: MDNI!!! (size kink (sorry I can’t help it, he’s just so big 😍), oral (f receiving), slight manhandling, breeding, lots of cum)

word count: 1.69K

A/N: it’s about that time yall, he always slithers into my brain at some point in time 🙄💕it took everything in me to not throw in some dacryphilia, the parasites in me really wanted to. Honestly I have nothing else to say except enjoy and thanks for reading :)

You’re far too in it to remember what the argument was about, but you knew you were right. It wasn’t often that you and Mingyu had disagreements of this caliber, most of the time they were “friendly”. Right now you’re angry, very angry actually, over something that you still don’t remember but you’re making sense and he’s clearly in the wrong. He raised his voice at you and vice versa, the argument was pretty heated but that was as far as it would ever go.

“You’re not even acknowledging that you’re wrong right now Gyu and you know you are!” Your finger was pointed but you were more so pointing at the space around him than at the actual person.

“Baby it doesn’t even matter, I know I’m wrong I just don’t like what you said!

He knew he upset you but the things you were blaming him for weren’t true and that’s kind of how the argument started; he just wanted to clear his name. You were so infuriating at times like these, standing your ground and not taking no for an answer.

“Fine whatever! I’m over this!” You threw your hands up and went to walk away but he grabbed you by the arm, pulling you back toward him.

He first caught you by the waist then held your face in his hands. You looked so pretty all the time, even when you were angry. He hated fighting with you, it made his heart ache and he always subconsciously thought you hated him a bit every time it was over. He knew that was a stupid idea and way to feel because you obviously loved him but he couldn’t help but be nervous. You couldn’t hate him, it would tear him up from the inside.

“Baby I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean to make you upset right?” He rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs.

Your heart softened seeing the slight pout on his face. You didn’t like it either; raising your voice at each other as if you had no love in your hearts. “Mm” a small whimper of agreement leaving your throat because if you spoke, maybe your eyes would start to water.

“You forgive me? Hmm?” He kissed the top of your nose and touched his forehead to yours. When you nodded and he saw the early glimmers of tears in your eyes, he got down on his knees. “You sure? I won’t know unless you say it.” He ran the edge of his nails up the back of your thighs; you forgot you wore this little skirt.

Your cheeks were burning and no thoughts ran through your head as you watched this man who was obviously bigger than you, beg for your forgiveness on his knees as if you were the keeper of his soul. You were always weak to those puppy eyes he would give you so unintentionally but that only signified just how desperate he was to hear what he needed in order to feel better. He was kissing at your stomach now, one hand still on your thigh and the other under your shirt.

“Of course I forgive you Gyu.”

“Really baby? You don’t hate me?”

Hate him? You could never hate him; he never gave you reason to. “Why would hate you Gyu? I love you so much.” You gently caressed his face with your hand.

That put a smile on his face and he wrapped his big arms around your waist and rested his chin where his lips previously laid. “You gonna let me make it up to you?”

That sparkle in his eyes; going from desperate to happiness, now to a mixture of lust and excitement. “You don’t have to do that Gyu, it’s okay.”

“Pleeeease? I’ll make you feel so good baby, I promise.”

Your heart beat thumped in your entire body; your neck, your fingertips, your chest, you were suddenly aware how fast it was going. “Okay, but only if you want t-“

He was already pushing you against the nearest wall, still on his knees. He slid that tiny little skirt he loved so much down your legs along with your panties and draped a leg over his shoulder. He tapped on the other one to get you to let him do the same. He was sturdy, a big wide frame for you to comfortably rest your jelly like legs as he settled his tongue right between your juicy folds. He was so good at getting you wet, or maybe you just couldn’t help it.

He was right, you did feel good. Your hands tangled in his fluffy hair, back arched and head leaned back against the wall. You weren’t going anywhere but he had a tight grip over your thighs to keep you still while he got to work. Flat tongue exploring every inch of your dripping pussy. He made rough circles over your clit, stopping to suck on it every now and again. He was enjoying himself; grunting, moaning, whimpering at the taste of you flooding his tastebuds. Nothing was sweeter than you, nothing made his body feel like it was on fire like you did.

Toes curled and thighs shaking, you were close to what was to obviously come. “G-Gyu, gonna cum.”

There he was again, looking up at you with those same eyes that crumbled you into a bunch of tiny pieces. He grabbed higher on your thighs, bringing your pussy closer to him, sticking his tongue as deep as it could go. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your ass, your hands tugging on his hair slightly. His nose pressed against your clit and that along with everything else pushed you over the edge.

He loved being the one to get you like this. To be the only one tasting you in your most vulnerable form. He was twitching in the pants he wore; you were absolutely lethal. When you came down from your high, he gently let your legs down and stood up; chin and lips glistening. He smiled at you when you stood on your still wobbly legs. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him down for a sloppy kiss. His hands rested on your ass until he lifted you so that your legs wrapped around his waist.

He carried you to the bed, still kissing you and placed you on your stomach. You were left in nothing but your top, your bottom half on full display. You looked over your shoulder and watched as he removed everything until he was left in nothing but his skin. He was behind you now, propping you up on your knees so that his fat head could rub against your entrance. He grabbed your hips and slid in; hissing as he reached the hilt. Breathing heavily, he slowly built up a momentum, rocking his hips faster and faster.

“Mmm Gyu, feels so good…”

“Hmm? Feels good baby? Want more?”

He didn’t have to see you nod, your hips bucked back to meet his thrusts; just a way to tell him you needed more. Your walls sucked him in, inviting him to have no boundaries and to fuck you to his heart’s desire.

“Love you so much, don’t wanna fight no more.” His thrusts were quick now, fat dick stretching you out so deliciously.

No words could accurately describe how amazing it felt to be under him. So big and so heavy in all the right amounts. To have your face in the mattress while he grabbed at you as if you would slip away. He leaned forward, hands sliding under your shirt to fondle your breasts. His hands were soft, big but rough and mean all at the same time.

“Love you Gyu…love youuuu” you were moaning and whimpering; it all felt too good and your body felt tingly.

Your voice so pretty too, letting him hear how good he made you feel. He was no match for you, he couldn’t go on much longer before he wanted to fill you up just so he could hear you some more. He was addicted.

“Love you baby, love this warm pussy too, love everything. Wanna give you more. Wanna give you it all.” He wrapped his arms around you, trapping yours at your chest while he rut into you like a dog in heat.

Absolutely perfect, all of it. You loved how even though he could easily crush you, he made sure to use his size to protect your smaller body. He was getting so deep at the angle, a huge creamy mess forming at the base of his dick. His knees were between yours to keep you nice and spread for him.

“P-please Gyu…want it” your voice slightly higher pitched than it was earlier or better described as: the way your voice would change when you couldn’t take it anymore and needed to cum.

He sped up, thrusts so deep and fast, tip bullying your cervix. He squeezed you a bit tighter, prepping you and him for the massive load he was going to release. He was panting in your ear, breath warm and tickly. This only caused your pussy to flutter, walls clenching down on him. It was turning his pants into moans; gosh he was so close but so were you. You kissed at his bicep closest to you and it drove him crazy; you drove him crazy.

“Fuck, baby can’t hold it…gonna fill you up.”

And fill you up he did. A few more thrusts and his warm cum flooded your walls, slipping out and dripping down your thighs. You were both still moaning as you came down from your highs. He freed you from his trap and laid down next to you. Neither of you had the energy to move, panting heavily as the effects wore off. He built up the strength to pull you close to him because he couldn’t deal with you being so far.

“I’m sorry Gyu, I didn’t mean to yell at you and accuse you of all those things.”

He stroked your hair and kissed your forehead, “It’s okay baby I know, we don’t have to talk about that. Just lay here with me okay?”

Soon the silence engulfed you both and slipped you into a peaceful slumber.

Would y’all forgive him? 👀

[kingdaddydaichi]

but like...

daichi slamming into you but SLOW. drawing his cock almost all the way out, moaning your name as his mouth falls open, your tight, creamy cunt sucking his fat dick so good before he snaps his hips flush with yours again.

daichi's coarse fingertips dimpling the plush of your hips with one hand as he grips the headboard w the other. his heavy balls are smacking against your clit, wet with your combined pre.

you arch your back for him, preen for him. you whimper his name like a pathetic whore in heat, presenting yourself to the most basic, carnal beast inside of him

and it fucking works.

daichi drapes his larger body over your back, the pressure of his weight only feeding into your impending orgasm. he wraps his fist around the longest part of your hair and insists that you cum for him. and who are you to deny your devoted husband and father of your children?

you obey, squeezing and squealing...clenching and crying out as you come apart around him, repeatedly telling him how much you love him.

"baby, you know i love you too," he huffs, slamming his hips against your ass with sharp, wet slaps of skin. "love you more than anything..." he almost sounds drunk now. "...so good, nhhn~ love you so much~" he groans, spilling his thick seed inside you as his trembling hips push hard against your bottom.

[willowser]

part one here :)

your father accepts takami's proposal the spring after you turn 21.

keigo has enough sympathy to push the process back, after touya's death. despite not knowing what you were sharing in letters, the plans you were making, he has enough respect to give you the time to heal. he's a good man and you do feel lucky to have him, out of all the suitors your father was speaking to, and you think you could love him, with time.

further up north, into the mountains, he has a piece of land and a cabin, a bunch of horses, and one evening he tells you he can't wait to take you there. let you see what else is out in the world, the beauty that you're missing in your small town. you think you might like that; all you see in the street, in your dreams and dark doorways, is touya's ghost.

an outlaw gang begins to pick up speed out to the east. at first you hear very little of it, don't know all the details of their crimes, but the more inland they move, the bloodier their trail becomes. keigo gets pulled into the investigation as they ride across the country and he's gone frequently, which has been another reason for his delayed proposal, and on the nights that you can't sleep, he tells you not to worry. the league, as they've been nicknamed, is only killing off men in the army. soldiers, in their sleep or late at night as they trail home from taverns.

it doesn't settle any of your nerves. if anything, it makes you sicker. you can't help but to remember the things touya told you in his letters, how angry he was at what the men around him had become. the seed he planted flourishes in the wake of bloodshed; vengefully, you think these men deserved it, after all the harm they've done, what they took from you. on nights when the melancholia hits the hardest, you're relieved, even, at the justice—and that has your stomach souring every time takami smiles at you.

the day of the wedding comes suddenly, despite all the waiting you and keigo and your families have had to do. you're to marry in a small church, white and paint-chipped; a final resting place to your lost love. you say goodbye to touya then, as you take in the image of your own reflection, the woman grief has made you. the woman you'll have to be from then on.

keigo's a good man, deserving of a good wife, and he is here and warm and alive—and you want to give him a fair chance.

the organ plays outside your small dressing room, your signal to come out. your dad should be waiting on the other side of the door to walk you down to where keigo waits for you. one last time, you close your eyes and imagine someone else at the end of the aisle—a bright-eyed young man that that you've loved as long as you can remember—

and then you let him go.

but when you open the door, expecting to see the face of your father, you are met with the looming figure of a dark man; dark cowboy hat, dark jacket, dark bandana pulled up just under his eyes. the organ plays on, unaffected, and the man—the bandit—simply puts one finger to his lips, silencing you.

"c'mon now, girl," he rasps, creeping in closer and closer, a hand raised to grab you up. "don't wanna be late for the wedding, now do we?"

you ride for days with a sack over your head, hands and ankles chained.

just by the sound of their voices, you count at least four of them, one being the woman—girl, she sounds like—that helps you out to the shade when you need to relieve yourself. the names are used infrequently enough that you can't attach them to the visions you've painted in your mind, of what they must look like.

the only one you know for certain is dabi, and that's the name of the man you ride with.

he and another snappy young fellow help to haul you up onto the horse every morning, and the son-of-a-bitch pulls you flush against his chest, arms around your waist as he takes the reins. you hear his smile, how it poisons his voice when he presses into the burlap, asking, "comfortable, girl?"

you refuse to answer, refuse to speak if you don't have to. it's a good thing they keep the sack over your head, you think, because if you could see him, you'd spit.

it feels like an eternity that you're with them, but time passes differently when you're a prisoner, when you can only feel the heat of the sun and not its shine on your skin. you've no idea what they want with you or why they've taken you; you're given your own tent—that you can tell, trapped in the dark as you are. there is no breath echoing beside yours, no warmth to be found. only the low glow of a campfire, and the muffled voices murmuring around it.

everything changes when you give in. when you decide to speak.

you've already been pushed into your tent for the night, but you can hear the sound of vibrant laughter echoing outside against the night, and you think of your only hope: the girl.

"i need to go!" you call, heart thrumming as the voices die down. "i need to go, i said!"

the tent flap opens audibly and you flinch on instinct, fear bubbling in your veins. you'd been expecting the worst after first being taken, but you haven't been touched more than necessary—more than dabi deems necessary. rough as his hands have been, they haven't violated you. yet.

you're grabbed by the arm and lead out, marched down until the cold settles in and the fire is long behind you. and then you turn on her.

"please," you gasp, clutching her hands in your own. "let me go. i've got nothing for you, no purpose, but m-my husband would pay handsomely if—"

"husband?"

a chill run downs your spine at the sound of his voice, the anger lacing his words. when you try to pull away, his grip tightens, keeping you rooted as he inhales deeply, and then your feet are skidding in the dirt as he pulls you against him.

"no, no, no," he murmurs, low and raw. "ain't been no wedding yet. made sure of that."

the acknowledgment at what he's done—the pride—lights a fire under your ass. you think of keigo, standing in the church, alone. waiting as the organ played on. how long did it take for his heart to break? for them to realize you weren't coming? surely he would have sent someone after—right?

"you sure did," you seethe, angry tears building beneath your burlap. "you whoreson dog! lemme go!"

try as you might, squirming in his hold does nothing, not even when you get one hand loose and beat it against the expanse of his chest.

"get off!"

the bag is ripped off your head so quickly that it's disorienting, black spots dotting your vision as you try to blink the world into clarity. you cry out from the shock of it all, the light of the moon in your eyes, and then you're being spun around to face the vast, empty valley ahead of you. the canyons that swallow the landscape in the distance, the mountains that bar you from the only world you've ever known.

you're out in the middle of nowhere, far from civilization.

even if keigo has sent someone in search of you—who knows how soon they'll find you. if they will at all.

you try to turn your face from the disheartening sight, chest feeling hollow and pinched, but dabi grabs your chin in his hand and forces you to look.

"no, no," he repeats, "i asked for y'first and i ain't waiting another fuckin' minute."

a shrill scream rips through the night when he turns you around, hands going from your arms to cup your cheeks, digging into the sides of your neck. this is it, you think, what you've been dreading all along, the assault you knew would come from a son-of-a-bitch like him.

"look at me, girl," he growls, shaking you when your eyes squeeze shut in stubborn defiance. "i said, look at me, damn it!"

tears blur your vision, but you blink through them anyway, their searing heat. he nearly blends into the night, dark as he is, but his eyes are wide, blue, and his face is washed pale in the moonlight and—

and you gasp, hard enough that your heart wracks, that your knees buckle, but his hands never stray from your face, thumbs brushing softly over your cheekbones.

"touya?"

[ya-zz]

stop me from buying a new game, I do not have the money to buy it but hhhhh it looks so good

[malachitezmeyka]

A few of the various iterations of Suiren in our Multiverse of Madness and the different things she is into, comprised into one (not so) neat list for my beloved @katkastrofa as part 1 of her birthday present (intended to be used as reference for a certain something 🤭👀 and also bc she said please when she reblogged my earlier post and who am I to say no to that? :D)

(Alternatively: Tumblr please don’t nerf me I beg you)

Under the cut for comfort reasons :’)

SotRL/post-SotRL – At first uses sex as an outlet for her frustrations, wanting it fast, rough and with as little feelings involved as possible. Merciless biter, loves attention on her tits, has a raging praise kink but would rather die than admit it. Touch her hair and you die (at first. After some time she’s okay with it being stroked or brushed out of the way, especially while she’s sucking Kuvira off). Generally rather sensitive and vocal so is very fun to play with, but she doesn’t let herself lean into it fully, and thus is extremely unaware of her submissive side. After she starts healing from her trauma and trusting Kuvira more, on the other hand… 🤭 She is still very much capable of domming or topping of Kuvira so desires, but for the most part she can’t get enough of letting herself be guided into the subspace and giving her brain a little break, willing handing Kuvira the control and trusting that she will be taken good care of. Discovers her oral fixation and leans into the praise kink, as well as riding Kuvira’s strap, having her tits fucked, imagining Kuvira being able to actually come down her throat or inside her, general BDSM stuff, bondage, light petplay, dehumanisation, ownership and edging. So, so much edging 🤤. It gets to a point when she’s not even too keen on coming at all, not wanting the experience to end. But she does love her orgasms, especially when she’s nice and full, so sooner or later she will end up begging for it anyway :D I very much might have missed something, but in my defence, there really is a lot to her

UtOS – Somehow, the complete opposite to SotRL Suiren. Extremely dominant, loves being in control and isn’t too fond of giving it up. Essentially, power bottom to Kuvira’s service top, though she does also love having Kuvira writhe on her water tendrils. Can and will use her bloodbending to her advantage once she finds out Kuvira likes being overstimulated, and heavily leans into the possessiveness kink by calling Kuvira hers as often as possible. Drops orders and light degradation as easily as breathing, and while she does enjoy being praised, it’s to a much, much lesser degree than her SotRL counterpart. Less being called a good girl and more being thanked for giving it to Kuvira so well. A bit of a sadist and somehow even more of a biter than usual. All in all… Grandma Ikiaq is a bad influence 😁

Ultimate AU – Looks like the dominance depends on the bloodbending rather than not being raised by Haya, because we’re back to something more closely resembling SotRL. Except here, Suiren is an impossible tease. Every Suiren knows full well that she’s attractive, but this is the only one who flaunts it quite as openly, wearing almost exclusively low cut dresses, putting an extra sway in her hips as she walks, always squinting at Kuvira in that seductive way… all that good stuff. And as a result of being a tease, she’s also one hell of a brat just begging to be tamed. She’s known nothing but freedom her whole life, so there’s little quite as enticing as the idea of having control forcibly taken from her. She likes being restrained after Kuvira gets sick of being teased and snaps, and fucked as roughly and thoroughly as possible. Most likely is incredible at giving tit fucks while her dress is still mostly on, just with her tits popped out. Is okay with having her hair pulled as long as it’s done lightly. The praise kink also isn’t that prominent, she’s much more into soft cuddles – in which Kuvira is *not allowed* to move as if a cat had fallen asleep in her lap – as a form of aftercare

MoA – I don’t have much on her bc this AU is rather underdeveloped, but she’s essentially pre-discovery-of-submissiveness SotRL Suiren, but even more repressed because the load she carried for her entire life was doubled and having to dispose of her abuser’s body after she was killed by her 15yo sister did absolute fucking wonders for her mental state. A bit more on the controlling side, preferring to take charge. Very into angry sex bordering on hatefucking, will ride Kuvira like her life depends on it to the point of hurt. Insults and death threats take the place of normal well adjusted flirting. Is nowhere near ready to be indulged in her even more well hidden praise kink, would probably claw Kuvira’s eyes out if she ever tried. Perhaps she should get a taste of Kuvira’s newly formed spirit cock and maybe she’ll calm down

Sacrifice AU – Easily the most vanilla out of all her counterparts. After her near death experience she’s extremely averse to all manners of being restrained, whether with metal cuffs or simply being held down. Her wrists are particularly sensitive, never to be grabbed. She doesn’t like being manhandled in any way, she gets to pick the position, and she picks something that will allow her to be on top and not trapped under Kuvira. Prefers grinding or humping to anything being inside her, be it fingers or a cock. Still just as obsessed with having her tits sucked, but it has to be lighter, not enough to leave bruises. She doesn’t like seeing bruises on herself. Praise kink to the max, anything to drown out the voices always shouting obscenities at her. Only while being called beautiful and desirable as she rides out her orgasm, clinging to Kuvira like a lifeline, does she actually feel alive again

Small rarely talked about bonus, Avatar Suiren AU – Living as an all powerful being with not one but two Great Spirits residing inside her gets very tiring very easily. Luckily, a certain someone is always willing to help her mind to drift away and her to lose herself in pleasure for a few hours. A bit more into degradation than praise. In those moments, she isn’t the Avatar, the master of all four elements, saviour of the world, and the memories of lives that came before her as well as those annoying Spirit kites’ constant bickering all fade away. No, in those moments she is simply Suiren, Kuvira’s Suiren, her beloved good girl. And nothing else could possibly matter

[anoddopal]

🐰 Thoughts: Dynamics With the BB Pirates [1/?]

Potential Trigger Warnings: Mentions of mental illness, depression, thoughts of death

☞ Silva wouldn’t have agreed to go along with the Bla.ckbeard Pirates when they left Mock Town had she been in a better state of mind at the time. The reality was that bun didn’t think there were really any other options left for her- her dream for the future had crumbled, her heart was shattered, and she was spiraling fast. Bun had lost hope. Silva’s decision to leave with them could have easily been the death of her. [And frankly? Bun was kind of counting on it.] And when that didn't happen, she decided to stick around anyway. Bun knows the #1 rule of nature: only the strong survive. Therefore, if she was going to continue onwards, she needed to align herself with a powerful force. ☜

☞ Yet despite being amongst a group of very dangerous people, Silva isn’t in inherent danger. [At least she isn’t in the kind of danger that she’s personally worried about.] Just so long as she stays out of their way, her biggest concern is avoiding getting bowled over/stepped on. [Everyone who makes up the crew is more than twice her height and easily several times her weight. Bun has to watch out! Though most of them are so loud she can hear them coming a mile away...] ☜

☞ Bun is merely there as D.oc Q’s assistant [and does other odd tasks here and there] in the beginning. She’s far too weak to be an actual member of the Bla.ckbeard Pirates. …. At first, anyway. ☜

☞ It isn’t until after the battle of Marineford that Bun is invited to become an official Bla.ckbeard Pirate. She accepts- aside from her pets, the crew was all she had left. The original five members of Teach’s crew are so proud when bun’s first official wanted poster is released. Look at how far their Bun has come! ☜

☞ Silva is regarded as lucky amongst the crew. Even though she doesn’t see how that alleged attribute applies to her, the others seem to emain firm with their opinion. A few even perceive her as a being that brings luck their way; a “good luck charm” of sorts.

And perhaps some credence can be leant to this belief. Bun avoided getting poisoned by Magellan because she refused to go to Impel Down with Bl.ackbeard's crew. And like Teach, Bun also escaped being frozen by Ku.zan when the crew randomly encountered him at a bar in the New World. Whenever something unfortunate happens to the group as a whole, Silva always manages to circumvent the circumstances. ☜

☞ Despite Bun’s various differences with the rest of the crew, none of them are unfriendly with her. In fact, it could be said that she’s decently liked by them. [Though she was quiet and meek when she first came aboard. It wasn’t until she hesitantly agreed to drink with them one night that that a bit of her hidden self slipped out, and Bun’s upbeat, playfully witty side came out to play. Heeey, turns out that seemingly shell of a person has a fun side! Whadyaknow, she does know how to smile!] She's affectionately regarded as the crew's resident little creature™️, and without her around, hijinks cannot properly ensue. Bun's individual relationships with the main members are as follows:

Spouse, Soulmate [or so he insists]: La.ffitte

The Best of Friends: D.oc Q + Stronger, Ca.tarina Devon, Ku.zan + Camel

On Good Terms With: Jesus Bur.gess, Sa.njuan Wolf

It Depends on the Day: Van Au.gur, Ma.rshall D. Te.ach, Av.alo Piz.arro

Avoids: Sh.iryu [he kinda reminds her of someone...🐊]

Refuses to be in the Presence of: Va.sco Shot

☞ Bun is allowed to have bad days around them. She’s allowed to be flawed, to be all the parts of her that she doesn’t like and tries so hard not to be. Those ill moods and dour states of mind are handled with a surprising amount of grace by her crew mates. It still surprises her after 2+ years of being around them. Bun has known "better" people who have left over much less... ☜

☞ Teach knows right away - from the moment they meet - that Bun has immense potential hidden within her. Sure, she comes across as a weakling, but he can tell she is stronger than she lets on; she is stronger than she knows. And she for sure has much more knowledge and awareness in that mind of hers than she lets others believe. With time, bun could develop into a very valuable asset. Teach keeps an eye on her.

He is one of the first to figure out that she has Conquer’s Haki [it’s how she is able to tame animals so easily]! Teach was also the first amongst the crew to find out about Bun’s past with Crocodile. Though this wasn’t due to intuition. Instead he found out she was kinda-sorta wanted by the World Government when he briefly became a Warlord. They wanted to… ‘question’ her about her knowledge of the Alabasta incident and… silence her so the truth behind their coverup wouldn’t get out. But all they had was a photo of her on Crocodile’s arm. Fortunately her identity was a mystery. Teach had no reason to sell her out to them, but he certainly ribbed her about her former love life the next time he saw her: “Zehahaha, hey Bun! When were you gonna tell us you used to f*ck Crocodile?!” >:)

In a way, one could go as far as to say that Bla.ckbeard personally finds Silva endearing. They've had quite a few philosophical late night talks when neither could sleep due to insomnia. He finds her sass hilarious- to the point of letting her get away with talking back to him. He always laughs her mouthiness off. Zehahaha, that little firecracker really does have the heart of a rabbit! What’s the worst she could do to him, nag him to death?

…

… Aw hell, she actually probably could- ☜

☞ On the topic of nagging, Bun isn’t afraid to speak her mind when it comes to scolding the recklessness of her peers. Actually, said tendency to nag becomes part of her job in the future. Post Timeskip, Bun often works alongside her husband as something of a secondary support to the Chief of Staff, often smoothing out petty issues amongst the crew or nipping potential problems in the bud before they have a chance to make their way up to Bla.ckbeard. Bun often handles matters in a constructive way, and she does her best to be pragmatic and fair. Everyone knows they can expect Bun to speak with straightforward, well-intended honesty. On the other side of the coin, Bun can verbally tear a person to shreds when she’s in a genuinely bad mood or if the actions of another have personally pissed her off. Most would agree they’d rather deal with Bun as opposed to La.ffitte when some constrictive criticism is in order… but there are some that would actually rather take their chances with the Demon Sh.eriff when they see that trademark grimace twist up Silva’s facial features. Heaven forbid anyone screw up to such a significant degree that they have to deal with both spouses at the same time. ☜

☞ Silva is not a Titanic Captain, but she does keep a very close proximity to a few of them! Those captains being her friends, of course! Bun bounces around between the 5th, 6th, 9th, and 10th Ships. It goes without saying that the majority of her time is spent with La.ffitte on the 5th Ship. Bun's official profession is 'Beast Wrangler', though as mentioned prior, she assists with staff management and still pops in to assist D.oc Q when she can. ☜

☞ Several of the crew members [aside from her spouse] refer to Silva with terms of endearment- such as “Honey Bun” or “Varmint”! 🖤🖤🖤✨ If I listed all of La.ffitte’s pet names for her, we’d be here all day. ☜

☞ Bun will allow only a VERY SPECIFIC FEW of them to pick her up and carry her. A VERY. SPECIFIC. FEW. Usually Bun prefers to be plucked up and balanced upon her friend's shoulders, but of course La.ffitte opts to hold her in his arms instead. ☜

☞ TL;DR? The super simplified explanation of the Forbidden Fruit AU tag on this bog can be found here. ☜

[joelscruff]

expect the 4th part of the joel fic either tomorrow or sunday hopefully!!!

[bassforte]

writing fics for unpopular fandoms/tags is both a blessing and a curse. Because on one hand you have the freedom to offer unique ideas that haven’t been written before for certain characters.

… but on the other hand barely anybody is reading it. 😭

[kjscottwrites]

Hi! What elements from books / shows / things you like are present in your WIPs? Can you trace each WIP back to their main inspiration source(s)? (hope the question makes sense, I'm lurking in inboxes trying to be more writeblr-active)

Hi! Thanks for this question this is great!

Cavernous is fun bc of how contained it is, I literally remember the exact conversation that spawned it (in my office cubicle, whilst not getting work done lol) so here's the thread of how it all started:

A friend/coworker and I were chatting about Ruby Dixon's books and her sudden viral success and wondered aloud "how would *I* do a self-indulgent fantasy romance series if I was going to take a stab at it?" and I posited that I'd want to use a really novel setting that I've never seen a romance writer use before - like what? - ummm underground? In a cave maybe? - like in the descent? - yeah! With the hot girl spelunkers and everything! But no scary gremlin men, only hot men - okay so cavemen? - no..... No like.... Sexy elfen lost world princes - what are they doing down there? - um idk...looking for wives? - oh, so like they're hosting a cave version of the bachelor down there? - Yes. Yes. Exactly.

Obviously what started out as .... an irl shitpost basically (almost two years ago now!) has since evolved into something much richer and more involved that I love and take very seriously lmaooo 😅 Ideas come from anywhere I guess! I owe a lot of thanks to Ruby Dixon, Neil Marshall, and Chris Harrison!

[eleganzadellarosa]

[9:38] - MDNI

Imagine Yunho blindfolding you, your back against the headboard legs folded back in frogtie. He’d run the cold metal gently and slowly on your inner thigh because he knows how sensitive you are there. Your whole body shivers with each passing touch and your pussy starts to convulse.

“P-please Yunho…”

He brings a hand down to slap your clit causing your body to jolt and your back to arch.

“I don’t know who Yunho is and neither do you right now slut.” Another slap.

“F-fuck, Sir. Please please give me more.”

His fingers were back to dancing across the skin on your thighs. His other hand, caressed your cheek. He thumbed at your bottom lip, dragging it down, demanding you open your mouth. When you did, he inserted two fingers to press down on your tongue. He began slowly thrusting them, reaching closer to the back of your throat each time.

“Gag like a good girl and I’ll give you what you want.”

He loved hearing you struggle, throat closing around his fingers, trying to stop the obstruction. Every time he did it, sliding as far back as he could go; you got a bit wetter and his pants got tighter. You were so focused on his fingers in your mouth that you didn’t notice his other hand stopped playing with your thigh, until you felt the pressure from him plunging two more thick fingers into your sopping pussy.

He was too horny to waste any more time and wanted you a moaning mess before he stopped the abuse on your body. You were still gagging, spit dripping down your chin and his fingers were still digging deep inside. The cold contrast of the silver jewelry that donned his fingers made your thighs shake with pleasure.

He added another finger in. They were already long but the addition of the accessories added more depth and a new layer of pleasure. Still blindfolded, purely using your senses to “see” the things happening around you. You were reaching your peak, walls clenching on his fingers begging him to let you cum, but you were smarter than that to know it wouldn’t end so quickly. You so badly wanted to close your legs to add to the pressure but they were bound tightly. First from your sloppy walls then from your mouth he removed his fingers, a whimper and pout on your lips.

He unbuckled his pants and pulled them along with his underwear down, getting annoyed with the ache and throb in his dick. You looked so pretty like this, tied up and spread just for him. Trusting him with your body; letting him do whatever for the both of your pleasure. He threw his head back feeling the cold from his fingers fight against the heat from his skin.

You felt the thick, fat head rub between your folds and concentrate on your clit. It made your body vibrate with anticipation, knowing what was to come next if you were good. Inch by inch, the absolute mind blowing stretch had your eyes crossing. His pelvis flush with yours now, you could hear how close he was based off of the low growl in the back of his throat. He kissed up your chest to your jaw and then to your ear, licking the shell of it.

His thrusts were powerful and quick; he wanted you to be ready to cum just as fast as he was ready to. Your moans filled your ears, your voice slightly strained. Your body burned with desire, senses heightened. A hand around your neck and finally the piercing bright light from the blindfold being removed. A mixture of love and lust present in his eyes as he looked at you.

“Such a good girl for me.” He whispered against your lips.

Your thighs were starting to burn from the friction of the rope; there was only so much more you could handle. He kissed you again, this time his tongue sliding into your mouth. You breathlessly moaned against his lips.

“You wanna cum?” His thrusts sped up but his tempo lost its rhythm, indicating he himself was close to spilling.

“P-please, yes” you felt so overwhelmed, constantly teetering at the edge of insanity.

He brought a hand between you and quickly rubbed harsh circles over your clit. His hand on your neck squeezed tighter and the dizzy feeling in your head mixed with his huge dick gliding through your walls made you see stars. Your toes curled and your body was stiff; your orgasm hit you hard. Not long after did you hear him grunt as his warmth filled you to the brim.

[cleaduvalls]

finished my final paper for history ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

[kirishwima]

i woke up with an urgent need to write a Mammon fic so. I MAY or may not be working on a univeristy AU fic as we speak bc im a big ol' sucker for uni campus romance 🙈

[someotherdog]

for / @despetitsecrits participants / ingrid & your choice of muse! story / it's a few months after the outbreak, and ingrid has been mostly surviving on her own. your muse stumbles upon her one day and she tries to seem like a tough bitch, but her façade is rather weak and unconvincing. setting / an abandoned pharmacy in a small town in rural new york!

ingrid still couldn’t believe this was her life. gone were the days of running around the manhattan law firm she worked at for the last five years, trying to impress partners that never seemed to remember her name and always looked through her instead of at her. at the time, she supposed it was understandable—her coworkers were usually from blue blooded families that all attended the same ivy league university for generations, while she had much more humble beginnings—but now months on the other side of society’s collapse, it made her retroactively angry. it made her angry for the woman that she had been, so small in actuality when she felt so gigantic back then. she, little ingrid sergeant from wyoming, working in a big city law firm and rubbing elbows with the elite! her high school classmates must have felt so jealous, knowing ingrid left their one-horse town for the bright lights of new york and made real money now. sure, she was unmarried without kids and barely had time to brush her hair, but she had made it. yes, she swallowed the disrespect from the partners and the uninterested stares of her coworkers, but she had reached her goals. she was a lawyer. she had made it out of wyoming. she had won.

it was all bullshit in the end. rather, none of it mattered in the end. people all died in the same way now: in pain, bloodied, far too soon. the end blindsided everyone, arriving unceremoniously and without ingrid even knowing until it was too late. one morning, she was getting off the subway to go to work, and by that evening, the world had ended. ingrid had been lucky to make it out of new york city alive. now, she traversed western new york by herself, because anyone she came across post-outbreak either died or left her for dead. it was harder to survive by herself, but perhaps for the best. the worst part was that she was aimless. her whole adult life existed in the borough of manhattan, but she didn’t have many friends and she hadn’t been close to her family in years. the only place she could think to go was her mother’s home back in cheyenne, but that was almost two thousand miles away; a lot of dead, a lot of danger, laid in between. that plan all hinged on the assumption that her mother was even still alive, which as much as it pained her, ingrid didn’t think was likely. if she barely survived, how the fuck would cassandra sergeant fair? no, there was little hope of finding anything worthwhile in wyoming, so ingrid just… wandered. in search of a purpose. in search of a reason to continue on.

that search brought her to a small town that she didn’t recognize the name of, because the only part of the state of new york that had mattered to her had been manhattan. it had been scarce of people and undead since she arrived a few days prior, and she had made herself a temporary home out of a dentist’s office—it was secluded, had an appropriate amount of exits, and had some medical supplies that would benefit her in the long run. it didn’t have everything, though, and ingrid found herself in need of food and water. that led her to a nearby pharmacy that hadn’t been entirely picked clean. fifteen minutes into stuffing her backpack full of granola bars and poptarts, she suddenly became aware of another’s presence. she froze, hand hovering above the shelf in front of her. from the fact that they hadn’t immediately lunged for her, she had to hope they weren’t undead. she gulped dryly, eyes turning towards them slowly. her voice dropped several decibels in an effort to seem intimidating. to seem stronger than she was. “g… get back. this is my aisle.” her other hand moved down to her belt for the hunting knife she found at the start of the outbreak. it had become her security blanket, though she had yet to use it against another human. “i—i just want these, then i’ll leave. so, uh, stay the f-fuck back.”

[sacrialege]

thinking about annalise when she finally realizes she's a lesbian and it's when she falls for her best friend of almost a year. the other was open and out as gay and was proud of it, and annalise learned a lot from her. while annalise had experience with men and women, it was never willingly and never because she wanted to, so annalise went the longest time feeling like she should just be labeling herself as "bisexual" because it was easier. because it was what she knew. but that's not what she wanted, and she finally learned from her best friend that it's okay to be specific in your preferences. it's okay to stray away from what she always knew and try being something different for a while.

so she did. she started with telling her best friend how she felt, and luckily, it was mutual. they were together for three years until they decided they wanted different things—and they parted ways as friends. to this day they still speak, they still visit, and they still hang out together like they used to—and the other is a witch, so they can be completely open with each other. she'll always be an important part of annalise's life considering she was the one that coaxed annalise out of her shell. annalise was twenty-six when she came out as a lesbian and her (then) girlfriend was there to cheer her the fuck on!! they had cake that night with friends and stayed up playing cheesy adult card games. it was an all-out sleepover-type night where they drank margaritas and shirley temples until they fell out (and remember annalise has to drink like three times the amount of alcohol to be affected) and that was another first for annalise, who had never had a sleepover before or laughed with others to carefree.

and speaking of new experiences... overall, before her mom died, when they lived the small-town life in michigan together, annalise had some of the best times of her life. she experienced a lot of firsts, new things, places and people. she got to experience genuine friendship, genuine love, and have the full, human life she never got to have before.

[kolsmikaelson]

AND THEN THERE WERE THREE…

NOTES — just saw challengers today and absolutely needed to write smth for these two! only used a gif of art because theres none of the two of them and almost none for patrick </3, i’m a little rusty with smut so bare with me

WARNINGS — 18+ content mdni, slight challengers 2024 spoilers, fem!reader, kinda dom!art, pure smut/little plot, art/patrick interactions, talk of previous art/patrick sexual encounters, spit play, oral (m receiving), tit sucking, dirty talk, mentions of anal, little bit of aftercare, not proofread, lmk if i forgot anything!

REQUEST — Pls write a smut fic with reader and Art fucking in the hotel room (with Patrick watching) and reader asking if Patrick can join them and ofc Art can’t say no because he finds the idea of this super hot. Maybe reader makes Art and Patrick make out like in the movie 👀

WORD COUNT — 1.6k

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None of you were too sure how exactly this had started. You, Art, and Patrick had stumbled back into their hotel room after leaving the beach, each of you finding your own place to sit after Patrick opened up a beer, took a swig, and passed the can to you. You’d taken a seat closer to Art, having naturally gravitated towards him more so than Patrick. And quickly, you and Art were making out, leaving Patrick to watch. 

You blamed the beer. And the fact that you found both Art and Patrick incredibly hot. One minute you’re at a party, dedicated to your best friend, Tashi Duncan, and the next you’re sitting on the beach being invited back to the guys’ hotel room, and the next after that, Art is stripping you of your clothes while Patrick takes a seat leaned up against the wall opposite the foot of the bed. 

“Can I-” He begins, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, desperation clear in his eyes. At your nod, Art quickly yanks your shirt over your head and immediately pulls your body flush against his. He’s planting soft, wet kisses up and down your neck as his fingers work the back of your bra. His eyes widen the moment it drops to the ground. 

Giving you a moment's glance he quickly sucks one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking and biting. Feeling as though he’s neglected the other one, he pinches and tugs on the opposite nipple, smiling around the one in his mouth at the moans you let out. 

“Yeah, baby? You like this? Me with your tits in my mouth and my best friend jerking off while watching us?”

For a moment, you’d forgotten about Patrick. Your eyes shoot open, landing on him instantly. The sight of him, slouched against the wall, his hand already wrapped around his cock, with his eyes fixated on both you and Art. He looked so hot, you weren’t sure how you’d forgotten that he was even there. 

“Mhm, ‘s hot.” you admitted, turning Arts face back to you, tugging his bottom lip back into your mouth. The blond pushes you back onto the beds that were pushed together - Patrick’s idea if anyone were to ask - and begins kissing up your stomach only stopping long enough to kiss each of your nipples. He grabs your face, pushing his fingers into your cheeks, making you open your mouth, before letting a large glob of spit fall from his mouth into yours. 

“Swallow.” He smiles when you do so without complaint, even going as far as to look as if you wanted him to do it again. 

Patrick moans at that, louder than before. Sure he and Art had messed around before, when they were both single and bored and needed a good fuck, that wasn’t new, but hearing that commanding tone in the blonds voice sent a shiver down his spine. 

“God, that was hot.” Patrick sighs, laughing when Art gives him the finger. 

“Fuck off, Patrick.” Both of them know he doesn’t mean it, if he wasn’t wanted there, you or Art would’ve said something, but you didn’t. whether Art knew it or not, both you and he wanted him to stay, and keep watching.

At some point during that interaction, you weren’t sure when exactly, Art had shed his pants and underwear. He was dragging the tip up and down your slit, up and down, stopping every few seconds to slap your clit with it. When your eyes finally landed on his length, it made your jaw drop. He was big, bigger than you’d seen before, he was long and girthy with veins running along the bottom of it. 

He slowly slides into you, admiring the look of pure bliss on your face. He’d never seen anyone look so angelic. The closest comparison he could make was how Patrick looked when he’d first given him a blow job. He wouldn’t call the look on Patrick's face angelic perse, but it was hot, really hot. The reminder of that, and the way you’ve begun clenching around him, spurs him into you. His hips snapping into yours, his heavy balls hitting your ass with each thrust. It was unlike anything either of you had felt before. 

I want him to join.

You weren’t sure that the words had actually left your mouth until the blond on top of you stopped his thrusts, looking into your eyes for a moment. 

“That what you want, baby?” He murmurs, kissing sloppily up and down your neck, shivers running through your entire body at his touch. His fingers falling to your clit, flicking at it. The pleasure was almost enough to make you forget that he’d even asked a question. 

Almost. 

“Please,” Even in your fucked out state, you couldn’t help but want more. 

“Come on, Zweig. You heard her.” Patrick grins, hopping to his feet, although slightly hesitant. He wasn’t sure where to go, or what to do. But his nerves dissolved the moment Art turned around, and gave him that look, one that he knew meant that everything would be okay. It meant that he just needed to get over himself and have a good time, everything would work out. After that he’s on the move towards you, giving Art a harsh slap to the ass as he goes past him, laughing when Art swats back at him. 

Patrick all but flies onto the bed, having kicked his underwear off the moment he stood up, and his shirt is long gone, a mix of yours, his, and Arts clothes are scattered around the hotel room, sure to have lost at least one thing. But none of you had it in you to care, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth opens before he’s even fully on the bed, but he gets the message, quickly positioning his tip in front of your mouth, thrusting a few times before losing control and fucking your throat. 

The three of you move in tandem for minutes, or maybe it was hours, Art would thrust into you, rubbing your clit with his fingers, while Patrick would be pulling himself out of your mouth at the same time. It felt as though this was a regular occurrence, as though it were normal. And god did you hope it would become a normal thing. The three of you, together, making each other feel good. 

Tapping Patricks thigh lightly, you hum happily when he pulls out of your mouth, giggling at how quickly he begins to check and make sure you’re okay. 

“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” The words come out of his mouth at lightning speed and it’s difficult for you to understand, but Art had and his thrusts slowed to a stop, hands leaving your body, giving you a questioning look as if repeating everything his friend had just said. 

“I’m fine baby,” And then you say something neither of them could quite hear. 

“Gotta speak up for us, sweetheart. Can’t do what you want us to do otherwise.” That comes from Patrick, Art nodding along with him. 

“Want you two to kiss.” The words fly out of your lips and you’re suddenly shy, pressing your face into Patricks thigh, nipping at it softly. 

Both men smirk at you before making eye contact with each other, giving a subtle nod. 

“Well c’mon man, you know how I like it.”

The combination of Arts words, his sudden thrusts and Patrick taking it upon himself to flick at your clit, push you over the edge. The power of your orgasm makes your legs shake, your mind empty of anything this isn’t you, Patrick, or Art. 

They’re still kissing, it’s all teeth and tongue and spit. It’s messy, and it only stops long enough for Arts mouth to fall open, moans spilling out as he comes inside of you, hot spurts of his come flooding your insides, leaving a white ring around the base of his cock as he fucks you through both of your orgasms. 

At this point, Patrick has taken a step back, and is watching again. He’s stroking himself with one hand, squeezing just right and out of nowhere, Art reaches out, cupping the dark haired man's balls, tugging and rubbing on them just the way Patrick likes. The added pleasure sends him crashing over the edge, he barely has the time to move and aim his cum to where you and Art are connected, spilling himself all over your cunt and Arts cock. 

Art pulls out and the three of you fall into a pile of heavy breathing, sweat, spit, and cum on the beds pushed into the middle of the room. Once you all catch your breath, Patrick is the first to speak. 

“Wow.” It was simple, but it made you all burst out laughing. 

“Wow, indeed.” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his pec, turning to do the same to Art. 

“That was fucking hot.” Arts words make you all giggle yet again. 

“Okay,” Patrick leans you into Art and pushes himself off of the bed, “‘m gonna get you two cleaned up, be right back.” He reassures you, hearing you whine at losing his presence. He comes back with a warm washcloth in hand, and a small cup of water in his other. He hands the water to Art motioning for him to take a drink and then give you some as well, while he bends at the waist, resting his knees on the floor and taking the cloth to your core, cleaning you as gently as he could before moving onto Art. Tossing the cloth to the corner of the room he pulls both you and Art into his embrace, enjoying the quiet for a moment before you break the silence. 

“Round two? Whoever makes me cum harder gets to fuck me here first.” You smile slyly, placing your hand on your ass, giggling when Patrick snatches you from Arts hold, muttering something about how he ‘got you first last time and that it’s his turn now.’

[not-a-newt]

X-Rated Garrus solo excerpt from one of my current wips...

"Awareness finally struck him, and he rolled into a new position, staring dumbly at the ceiling, at the soft half-circles of blue-ish light, barely perceptible, cast by the dimmed fixtures that lined the walls of his Tantalus' chamber. He hoped vainly that this position would alleviate at least one of the sources of his tension. He never felt restful positioned this way, but it might help to unknot the hot discomfort radiating outward from the depths of his abdomen. Hhhrg, he thought to groan out at himself, but withheld from any external acknowledgement of his embarrassing condition. He held his hips upward briefly, compelling his body through the shifting of muscles to relieve him of this feeling, so that rest might eventually find him.

Supining himself again, the tension was not alleviated. He still ached, almost more deeply than before, due to bubbling fantasies of the administrations he could be performing with that same flex of muscles. It was probably hopeless to hold onto the belief that, maybe, the feeling would dissipate naturally, untouched and unthought of, when it was probably going to require a lot of touching to alleviate..."