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athina-blaine · 4 months

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Bloodweave Fic Recs (01/05/24)

Check out my other fic recs here and here!

Congrats to Bloodweave nation for 1k fics on AO3, ya'll are truly hopped up on whatever's going on with those hungry weirdos and that's just beautiful

When You Wish Upon a Star by Greenegem (G, 800+ w || Tooth-Rotting Fluff) Just a man in love wishing upon the brightest star of his universe.

Five Stars by Viela (T, 700+ w || Modern AU) “A more suspicious man might think you’re dating me for my Uber rating.”

cursed by aevallare (T, 1k+ w || Soulmates, Scars) When Gale Dekarios was born, there were whispers that he was cursed.

To Behold, To Be Held by illithiddies (T, 3k+ w || Established Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence) Astarion shuts his eyes as his vision suddenly becomes doubled by Gale’s, the image overlaid and blurred into his own until the two are almost indecipherable. But shutting his eyes only clarifies the vision he receives from Gale: Himself, shirtless and bloodied, standing before a kneeling and defeated Cazador.

Self-Preservation and Other Cheap Façades by bloodweaving (shipwreckblue) (T, 3k+ w || Sick Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Vomiting) During a bout of illness, Gale discovers that while Astarion may not have strong caretaking instincts, he does have experience.

To Hide it All Away by Greenegem (T, 5k+ w || Pre-Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm) Gale had been a series of puzzles Astarion couldn’t seem to solve from the start and he hated him for it. The first was a blight hidden behind a mouthwatering scent. The second, a hunger that sought to rival even his own. But it was the last one that most intrigued him. The perplexing choice of ornamentation on an otherwise clean slate.

In Due Time by illithiddies (M, 7k+ w WIP || Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Campaign Setting: Waterdeep: Dungeon of the Mad Mage, Angst With a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn) Within the heart of Waterdeep, the legend of the Undermountain and its many dangers looms larger than life. Adventurers come for miles to partake in the garish ritual of lowering themselves into the dungeon below to see what riches they can find. What monsters they can best. It’s hardly an unfamiliar setting for Astarion. The overabundance of cocksure heroes makes it a prime location to find marks to lure back to Cazador. He watches the newest adventuring party disappear into the well. Out of the inn. Out of Waterdeep. A vampire spawn would hardly be missed among that crowd, no?

taste, and be consumed by TheEarlGreyAlpha (E, 2k+ w || Blood Drinking, Mildly Dubious Consent, Somnophilia) It was true that Gale had warned him, said his blood tasted awful. But caution had no meaning to Astarion, the immortal cat killed by its own curiosity again and again and again. What was one more life, in the name of discovery?

Home for the Holidays by troutsoup (E, 3k+ w || Established Relationship, Inappropriate Use of Mage Hand Spell and Hold Person Spell, Soft Dom Gale) After his first time accompanying Gale to a reunion of the enormous and overwhelming Dekarios family, Astarion is rewarded. Sort of.

Perfect Bound by positivejam (E, 4k+ w || Blood Drinking, Mildly Dubious Consent, Frottage, Wizard Hubris But Sexy) “Trapped? Oh, but that can’t be it," Astarion says, mouth dropping open as if he’s just noticed the binds. “I seem to recall you saying you had everything quite in hand.”

divine favor by Sinister_Queer (E, 5k+ w || Vampire Ascendant Astarion, God of Ambition Gale, Manipulation, Unhealthy Relationships) A century and a half after his Ascension, only one person left remembers Astarion as he was before. A century and a half after his Ascension, only one person left remembers Gale Dekarios. (or: The Vampire Ascendant summons the God of Ambition for a favor.)

You Into Me by ZiGraves (E, 7k+ w || Hurt/Comfort, Inappropriate Use of Tadpole Powers, Masturbation) Gale can shape pockets of safety amongst his spells of destruction, yes. But he needs to know where his allies are to be able to protect them, and Astarion makes it his business not to be seen. A solution must be found.

En Prise by positivejam (E, 32k+ w WIP || Blood Drinking, Oral Fixation, D/s) It’s not often Astarion sees his own hunger reflected in another’s eyes. And so yearning for a look in the mirror, he can't help but stare. With two discerning appetites, a deal to keep each other fed is the one thing that ties him to the vexing little mage. But then the proverbial collar slips all too easily around Gale's throat, the lead feels right in Astarion's unchained hands, and both men think they've bested the other in a game neither should be playing. In any case. As the greats say in lanceboard: there is no shame in losing to a stronger foe.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bloodweave #fic recs #i do my best to have a nice mix of all fic ratings but the E fics have just been on fire lately so [tosses up hands]#woe! pwp be upon you #is it really my fault when dnd offers so much in way of inappropriate spell usage 🤔#a true smorgasbord of debauchery

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corazondebeskar-reads · 7 months

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well it's love, make it hurt - chapter six

well it’s love, make it hurt series

six: sometimes it just feels better to give in

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: You have cabin fever and a rough morning. The Mandalorian finds a way to cheer you up and pass the time while you travel across the galaxy.

Warnings: bdsm, d/s relationship, established relationship, dom!Din Djarin x sub!reader, soft dom!Din Djarin, kind of intense scene, domestic nonsense, hand feeding, spanking, one (1) pussy slap, oral (m receiving), oral (f receiving), 69, rope bondage, sex pollen (intentional, Din only), Din Djarin removes the helmet but doesn't reveal his face, subspace, aftercare, no y/n

Originally written for Kinktober 2023 - Day 8: Sex Pollen/Sexual Competition, inspired by @absurdthirst’s wonderful prompt list,

also on a03

3 ABY - Winter

It's day five of near-constant travel across the galaxy. You had worked on the way out, filling the carbonite, and now had nothing to do but return.

Yesterday, you had stopped for fuel and food. Taking the long range of bounties would pay off in the end; you had run the numbers, but for now, it meant things were a little tight. Mando never really lingered at the ports, but you hadn’t bothered to enjoy the market or the rusty crimson mountain range. The faster you got back, the faster you got paid.

It wasn’t as if you would starve. There were reserves; you both knew that. After it became clear neither of you were particularly interested in ending your arrangement, you shifted the way the profits were split in favor of a more communal fund for ship repairs, rations, and medicine. That budget was running low. But both Mando and you had your own caches of credits, earmarked for other purposes.

You regret the quick departure now. You wake up stiff and grouchy, like your body knew it missed out on a leisurely hike full of beautiful sights. After you drag yourself out of bed to stretch, you try to recover the day.

What for, though? There's nothing to do. You're over looking at the stars or the gray walls of the Crest. The datapad only held your attention for a minute or so before the tension in your chest built back up, and you tossed it to the side.

Getting out of bed proves to be another mistake. You burn your caf. When you try to dump it out, you spill a bunch on the floor and have to clean the whole galley to get the smell out. And when you go to rid yourself of the caustic odor and sticky residue, the fresher is exclusively sputtering cold water.

Fuck it.

You dry off and go back to the bunk, not bothering with clothes lest you rip your favorite shirt or trip and fall while putting on trousers. Seemed like the kind of thing that might happen.

You bury yourself in the covers and turn off the light, determined to sleep for the entire day and hope tomorrow was better.

Mando was elbow-deep in the wiring for most of the morning. A long trip was a good chance to update some of the non-critical systems. He was vaguely aware that you were up and puttering around the ship, and as much as he wanted to take a break and greet you, he knew he’d never be able to finish the job.

By the time he finishes and cleans up, securing the panel back to the wall, a couple hours have passed. But you aren’t in the hull eating lunch or fixing your jammed pistol. You aren’t curled up in your chair with a book. Even the refresher is empty (to his slight disappointment. He would have enjoyed the show).

It was unlike you to go back to bed. A deep frown settles as he makes his way to the bunk, and there you are, curled up on your side against the wall. He runs a bare hand up and down your leg, and you stir a little.

“Cyare, you okay?” he says.

“Uh-huh.” It was more of a groan than anything else.

“Are you sick?” His hand tightens a little on your calf, brow furrowing as he reaches up to feel your forehead.

You bat him away (or, at least, he thinks that's what you attempted to do. It was more of a weak flop of your hand before it fell back on the bed). “Nuh-uh. Sleepy. Bad morning.”

He settles on the edge of the bed. “Anything I can do for you, cyar’ika?”

“Nuh-uh. Lemme sleep.”

“Okay.” He sighs and slips back out of the bunk, but leaves the door open. The idea of closing you in there made something grind in his sternum.

He lets you sleep for another hour while he takes a quick rinse in the fresher before preparing a bit of lunch—or, technically, breakfast. Neither of you have eaten yet. At the market yesterday, while you were meticulously restocking and haggling with shopkeepers (he could practically see the credit-per-meal calculations crunching in your head), he had slipped a wrap of boiled tipyip, a crusty loaf of bread, fresh tubers, and a few fruits into the bag. With his own coin, of course, and insisted on carrying the bag.

The idea of you stressing over whether or not you’d have enough food made him physically ill. He trusted you to buy enough rations, but it was unusual for you not to buy at least a few fresh items. You were going to be on the ship for another four days.

Before working together, you had both lived that way. Bounty to bounty, ration to ration. But half the point of taking a partner was to have a better life. And while most of his credits went to making sure his people all had better lives, it hadn’t taken long to soften up with you around. He wanted to be soft with you around, or you’d spend every moment flinching away from the thorns you’d made your nest from.

Osik, he’d done the same thing, but he had the armor. The armor he’d been wearing a lot less lately. The past month or so, he found himself shedding everything but the helmet while you traveled. Never on land or at port, but hurdling through the frigid vastness, he preferred to feel your warmth.

Mando eats while he makes your plate and then, slipping his helmet back into place, climbs into the bed. He settles behind you and wakes you.

“S’it morning?” you mumble.

“No, but it’s time to get up.”

“No,” you whine and cover your head with the blanket.

He shakes his head, grinning beneath the mask. “I’m not asking, cyar’ika.”

You pull the blanket down to your nose and look up at him with big, sad eyes.

“Stop that,” he tugs at the blanket, “or are you trying to be a brat?”

You shake your head.

“C’mere,” he says, patting his lap. You scoot up so your back is against his chest.

“Open,” he says.

You obey immediately, but furrow your brows and strain your head back a little to see what he's up to, given that you are very much not in range of his cock.

He presses a berry into your mouth, which doesn’t seem to clear anything up for you, as you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Eat, cyar’ika,” he says, running a finger over your bottom lip.

You close your eyes for a moment as the juicy berry bursts on your tongue, and then you sit up and whip around to look at him. “Hey—” you started to scold.

“It didn’t come out of the budget,” he says, pulling you back down by the shoulder. A wave of affection spreads as you let him rearrange your body, despite your irritation.

You open your mouth to argue, but he fills it with a slice of longfruit before you can make a sound. You bite down on it like you wished it was his flesh, narrowing your eyes in challenge.

“I’m allowed to spend my credits however I’d like,” he reminds you, pressing a piece of stew-soaked bread to your lips just in case you got any ideas about speaking again. “If I want to spoil you, I can spoil you.”

You cross your arms across your chest but open your mouth willingly for the next bite. He brings his idle arm around yours, basking in the way you loosen a little, forehead smoothing over and exhaling softly.

“That’s it, cyar’ika, just let me take care of you.”

Once you had eaten a decent helping of everything, he brings his other arm around you and closes his eyes, resting his helmet in the crook of your neck.

“Are you still hungry?” he murmurs after a few moments of peace.

You shake your head. You're pleasantly full, warmed by the stew, and feeling lighter from the fresh meal. “Did you eat?”

He nods against your shoulder, wiggling you a little so you're nestled between his long legs, and sighs softly. You take the cue to close your eyes and lean your head against his chest, content to go back to sleep.

You should have known he had other plans when his hands started wandering, but to be fair, it was rare that you lay together without him idly fonding you. It didn’t always lead to anything; he just liked to keep you in a near-constant state of arousal through teasing.

“That way,” Mando had purred in your ear once when you whined, “you’re always wet and ready for me, cyar’ika. That way, I can just… bend you over and slide right in.”

You had nearly cum at the thought alone, and so, he continued to be an absolute menace.

Now, he helps himself to handfuls of your breasts and lazily rolls each nipple between a thumb and forefinger. You concentrate on your breathing, having learned well enough that if you let yourself get worked up too soon, he was more likely to laugh and walk away, to let you marinate in it until you were begging for him.

“Cyar’ika,” he says, pitched low and dangerous in a way that never fails to make you feel like prey. Uh-oh.

“Yes, sir?”

He grins at the tell-tale waver in your voice. “I’d like to try something.”

“Oh no,” you breathe, shuddering.

“Oh no?” he says. “You don’t want to try something? Is that why your poor, empty cunt is dripping all over the bed?”

You whimper and bury your face in your hands. He pries them away immediately, holding both wrists in one hand.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, sir,” you say, knowing how he hated it when you hid from him. You're squirming, now, and can feel his hard cock against your lower back.

“What do you say, cyar’ika? Can I use you? I think you’ll like it.”

You nod without hesitation, despite the way your heart rabbits against your ribcage. You had enjoyed everything he's done so far, but every time he starts with “I’d like to try something,” it usually involves something very intense.

“Let me help you forget all about your bad day.” His hand slides down to your cunt, and your hips buck involuntarily, trying to reach him. He snatches his hand away and laughs. “Be patient,” he warns, before cracking his hand down against your pussy.

You yelp and whine, a pout turning your lips down.

“None of that, sweetheart, or do we need to start with a spanking?” He's teasing, but you hesitate. “We can, if that’ll help.”

You nod, your hands twisting at the sheets to keep them from obscuring his view as you flush from your ears to your chest.

“Such a good girl, telling me what you need. Lay across my lap,” he scoots so his back is flush with the wall. He’s so proud he doesn’t even make you beg for it.

As you settle, he strokes the soft skin of your back, one broad hand splayed across your shoulder blades. “Count for me, baby,” he says before bringing his hand down across your ass.

The strikes are firm but not sharp. Your count comes out in soft moans. He watches as your skin reddens a little, the way your plump flesh bounces. His cock is straining against its linen prison. It was going to have to wait a while, too. He had too much self-control, and it certainly wouldn’t be fair to you if he got to take the edge off before starting his little game.

Not that it was going to be fair to begin with.

You’re sprawled now, limbs askew, head hanging off his lap with your arms dangling.

He pauses. “Are you seriously falling asleep?”

“No,” you lie. “It’s just so nice.”

Ooh, mistake, he thinks, and brings his hand down hard for the last hit. It has the desired effect as you yelp and startle from his lap, betrayal across your face.

“Out,” he said, gesturing to the door and pulling his legs from under you so you have to scramble to make room.

You eye him suspiciously when you land on your old bedroll.

“Something you want to say?” he says, digging around in a cabinet with his back to you.

“No, sir.” You bite your tongue and try to see what he’s doing.

“Sit down, impatient girl,” he scolds.

You sit, legs crossed. You thought about kneeling, but with no indication how long you’d be there, you decided to get comfy instead. It’s then that you notice the ropes on either side of the bedroll, neatly coiled. Waiting.

“Don’t touch,” he says as you reach to feel.

“How do you do that?” you say, flinching back and folding your hands in your lap.

He chuckles. “I know you, cyar’ika. Turn around and face the fresher for a minute.” When you’re settled, he sits down behind you and takes one of the ropes. “Can I tie you up, baby?”

“Please.” It comes out as more of a whine than you mean, but your every muscle aches to find out what it feels like.

“You just sit there and relax.” He pauses. “No sleeping.”

You snort and shake your head. There was no need to worry about that. You’re too wound up now.

He begins to wind the cords around you, softly explaining what he’s doing. You would have been fine just letting him work, but to your surprise, it’s nice to know what’s happening. It helps that his voice is so, so pretty. And soft.

As he ties the diamond harness around your chest, he brushes his hands against your breasts, and you can’t help but squirm. He lets you. You won’t be able to, soon, anyway. He ties it off and shakes some of the ropes, running his finger under them to make sure they aren’t too tight.

“Oh,” you whisper, reaching up to feel the knot against your sternum, cupping your cradled breasts, and following the rope up to where he’s woven it over and under your collar.

He lets you explore for a moment. “How’s everything feel? Any pinching or tingling?”

“No, sir.” Your voice is so quiet he can barely hear it over the hum of the mechanics.

“Hands together behind your head.”

You lift them up, fingers knit, and he adjusts them so your neck is cradled in your palms. “Is that comfortable? Think you’ll be alright with them there for a while?”

You hum.

“Cyar’ika. Need you to stay with me right now and use your words.”

You shake your head a little bit, trying to clear away the haze even though all you want to do is sink into it. “Yes, sir. And yes, I’m comfortable.”

“Good girl. Hold still.” He starts first with your arms, threading the rope around to secure your forearm to your bicep. He winds a cuff around each wrist and gathers your hair into one fist.

You moan, less in pleasure than in contentment, so he takes an extra moment to run his fingers through your hair, pulling it neatly back. He slides a loop around it and braids the excess through, tying the end and securing it to your wrists.

Your breathing is ragged. Every brush of his fingers is sparking straight to your cunt, your thighs damp.

“Relax, baby. I’m only halfway done,” he says. He helps you turn around and gently lowers you until you’re lying flat, face up.

He looks you up and down and scraps some of his plan. He had something more elaborate in mind, but he doesn’t want you to slip into subspace yet, and it doesn’t seem like you can fight it for long.

Instead, he takes one leg and bends it to your chest before tying it there. With the other, he bends it over a low rung of the ladder, and secures it so you’re spread and vulnerable. Finally, he takes the loose ends sprawling from under the bedroll and weaves them across your torso, crisscrossing until he’s satisfied.

He checks each tie meticulously, having you affirm your comfort, before he sits back on his haunches. “Move.”

“What?”

“Wiggle, baby. Squirm around.”

You try. When you find that you can only wiggle in place, but can’t actually get any distance, you moan.

“You like this, cyar’ika?” He doesn’t need to ask. Your cunt, spread wide for him, is soaked. But he likes to make you say it anyway.

“Yes, sir.” You’re flushed, but you couldn’t hide from him if you tried.

“Good girl. You ready to try my idea?”

You open and close your mouth a few times. “This isn’t it?”

“It’s part of it, baby. It’s preparation. But last night at the market, I found something very interesting.” He holds up a small canister. “There’s a plant that grows on the mountainsides there with a peculiar side effect, if inhaled. If I take this, I’ll be insatiable for hours.”

Your breathing is shallow, eyes wide as you stare at the little tin.

“Remember, cyar’ika. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I won’t be upset with you if we don’t use it.”

“What’ll happen if we do?” You’re curious. “You’re already insatiable.”

“No, pretty girl. It’ll leave me hard. I’ll be able to cum over and over. Y’know, like you get to?”

“Oh. Yes, please.”

He laughs. “I was thinking we could play a little game. You like a little competition, right?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod, feeling a little suspicious again. You enjoy when he makes you suffer for his (and your) pleasure, but that doesn’t stop you from getting nervous.

“I want to see which one of us can make the other one cum more.”

“Oh,” that sounds fun, actually, so what’s the catch? “Wait. Hey, hang on. You tied me down.”

He laughs. When he’s like this, it’s just on the side of condescending that makes your clit throb. “You’ll have your mouth. And I’ll have everything else.”

“That’s cheating!”

He runs his hands over your breasts, pinching and squeezing. “That’s the point. Don’t worry, cyar’ika,” he strokes your cheek. “You kind of win either way, don’t you?”

He stands up. “It’s up to you. You say the word, and I’ll put this away. Plenty of other ways I can use you like this.”

You look up at him, a look in your eye he can’t quite place. “I want to.”

“Are you sure?”

“I trust you. And I want to make you cum. A lot.”

He grins. “Greedy thing. I’ll be right back, then.” He doesn’t want to open the container in the same room, doesn’t want to risk dosing you somehow. One of you has to be of sound mind for this, and he knows in his bones that if you use your safeword, he’ll stop. But he’s not sure you’d use it if you needed to, were you to ingest it.

It takes a few minutes, but by the time he returns to you, he feels warm all over. He had been half-hard already from groping you while you were tied up so prettily. But now, he aches.

“Can I blindfold you, cyare?” He’s breathing heavily.

“Please, sir,” you beg immediately, fairly certain of what that will mean. And you’re right.

As soon as the cloth is secure, you hear the soft hiss as he removes the helmet. He doesn’t make you wait, mercifully, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You moan and try to lean up for more, but your tether doesn’t let you.

He smiles, you can feel it against your lips, and you think you might lose your mind. You need him. Now. But he backs away.

He shushes you when you whine at the loss of his warmth, and settles himself over you.

“Oh, stars,” you groan as you realize what’s happening. He lowers his hips, letting the tip of his cock brush over your lips as he bows his head and parts you with his fingers. He dips his cock into your waiting mouth just as he licks the first stripe from your clit to your cunt.

It kicks off a chain reaction. You moan around his cock, and the vibrations pull a moan from him, as well. When you try to take him deeper, you realize you’ve been thoroughly tricked. You’re completely at his mercy, can only have as much of him as he lets you. Meanwhile, he’s teasing a finger at your entrance and sucking softly on your clit.

Suddenly, he pulls away, but slides his cock deeper in your throat. “Oh, and you can cum whenever you want. You don’t need to ask right now.”

Fuck.

It doesn’t take him long to draw the first one out of you. He lets you have his cock the whole time, softly thrusting as you suck and work your tongue. When he finally slides a thick finger in you, all the way to the knuckle, you cum. He moans into your cunt, pushing his cock down deep into your throat. He knows you like to choke on it when you cum, which—you realize later—was actually evil. Because it knocks a second orgasm out of you as you gag and struggle.

He pulls almost completely out, moaning as you suck hard to try to keep the head in your mouth. “That’s two,” he says, but it breaks into another moan as you flick your tongue over the slit. “That’s it, pretty girl, I’m almost there.”

He resumes fucking you with his finger, sliding another one in for good measure. He isn’t going to fight his orgasm. It’s not like he needs to try to hold out, and you deserve to get what you worked so hard for. So he thrusts roughly into you and spills down your throat.

He expects you to count or tease.

But you don’t. You gasp out, “Thank you, sir,” before opening your mouth again to wait for him.

“Dank farrik, cyar’ika,” he groans. “You’re going to kill me.” He slides his still-hard cock back into your mouth, and the way you take him is rapturous.

He resumes licking and nipping at you, kissing and sucking bruises into your thighs. You don’t notice the particulars of what he’s doing. Everything is soft and blissful. You’re only vaguely aware when you cum again, a gentle, rolling thing that makes you shake all over.

The world around you has narrowed. You might be floating, but thankfully, Mando has tied you nice and tight, so you don’t have to worry about it. You always love his cock, but right now, you think you might die if he stopped fucking your face.

The exquisite pleasure is just on the right side of painful. There’s a rushing sound in your ears, like a waterfall. You lose count of how many times he rewards you with his cum, how many times you cum just from feeling him twitch and spurt down your throat. Your jaw aches, and you feel raw all over. It’s bliss.

By the time the drugs wear off, Mando thinks maybe, maybe he’s too old for this. His back aches, and his knees lock up. And he’s so, so tired. But he’s still warm all over, and you’re so soft and beautiful.

You whine when he pulls away, but it’s a weak, soft thing. You’re too far gone, too worn out for more. He gives you another kiss before sliding the helmet back on.

“Cyar’ika, I’m going to take the blindfold off now.” He’s turned out the lights in the hull, but the adjustment might be too much still.

“Mm.” Everything is too heavy to move.

He slips the cloth off your head and warns you to hold still.

As if you would move if you could. That would be so, so much work.

You barely notice as he slides the knife, cutting the rope away from your body. You’re both absolutely filthy, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t even think about getting cleaned up. Instead, he lifts you up and somehow manages to ease you both into the bunk. He brings the canteen to your lips and makes sure you take slow, easy sips.

Running his hands gently over you, he both checks to make sure skin didn’t break and admires the ridges of the rope where they’ve been tattooed into you. You’re limp, curled toward him, and he thinks you’re already asleep.

But then you nestle closer, pressing soft kisses to his bare chest, and he’s overcome again by gratitude, by awe at what he gets to have with you.

“Hey,” you whisper, later into the night. He stirs a little, too groggy to open his eyes. “Who won?” you ask.

“No idea,” he murmurs, and pulls you back into his chest to sleep.

*title from "My Blue Heaven" by Taking Back Sunday.

#din djarin x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #kinktober 2023 #the mandalorian fic #din djarin x f!reader #these two have me in a choke hold I'm sorry #these are so long because I go to write pwp and all the sudden there's feelings and budgets and ship maintenance #corazondebeskar-reads and writes #coming in just under the wire it's still the 8th here #make it hurt verse

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wikiangela · 6 months

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inspiration saturday

tagged by @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @spotsandsocks @hoodie-buck @thewolvesof1998 @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life @jamespearce9-1-1 @fortheloveofbuddie 💖💖

soooo I might have started a new wip lol 🙈 (i'll be back to all the other ones soon istg, i just have way too many ideas haha) not sure wtf this is tbh, it was inspired very randomly by playing the sims lmao I just started writing and don't have enough of a snippet to share but for now here's a tiny moodboard haha

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @spagheddiediaz @housewifebuck @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @exhuastedpigeon @weewootruck @loserdiaz @jesuisici33 @evanbegins @steadfastsaturnsrings @ladydorian05 @disasterbuckdiaz @lover-of-mine @malewifediaz @pirrusstuff @jeeyuns @theotherbuckley @911-on-abc

#inspiration saturday #moodboard #fic moodboard #fic snippet #buddie #buddie fic #buddie wip #wikiangela writes #btw it's gonna be smut #most likely pwp/porn with feelings aka my specialty lol #it's been too long since i've written smut and it's calling out to me lmao #married buddie smut #<- that's what the doc is called for now so i guess that's how i'll tag it haha #i was playing ts4 and gave my sims wedding rings for once and I was just like: damn it looks so cool and soo good #and suddenly the idea popped into my head haha #(the idea came to me while the sims were fucking and i got distracted by how awesome the wedding rings looked so that's why this lmao)#also based on like all my smut moodboards - i think im obsessed with hands lmao

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chateautae · 1 year

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hi everyone 🥺

#IK IT'S BEEN SO LONG #HELLO HELLOOOOO LIFE JUST GOT SO CRAZY #it's so entirely different from when i was last on here!#BUT WHEW I;VE HAD THE SECOND CHAPTER TO 'TO TURN A BAD THING GOOD' FOR A WHILE #I JUST LOST ALL MOTIVATION AFTER LIFE GOT SO CRAZY #it legit needs another paragraph or two and it'll be done #i also have a tae pwp i wrote like two years ago and just never released stashed somewhere #i might release that too!#i wanna get back into maybe i do drabbles as well!!#sammy files

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apoptoses · 6 months

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Something that's been on my mind is seeing the idea that in order for smut to be valid to write it has to have a purpose. It has to say something about the characters, it has to serve as a tool for the plot, it has to have some deep meaning beyond the sex acts involved.

And honestly, that's not true no matter how much some very vocal people might insist that smut without a 'purpose' is just porn and porn is shameful to make and consume.

It's okay to write smut because you think the concept is hot. It's okay to write it just because you want to give your readers jerk off material about their favorite characters. It's absolutely, 100% fine to write smut for smut's sake.

And sure, you want it to be in character, you want to write it so that you can't just file the names off and replace them with anyone. But you can just write something because you think character X should fuck character Y in this very specific way and have that be the end of it.

Call it smut, call it porn, call it whatever. Write the stuff you want to write. You don't have to do literary gymnastics in order to make it 'valid' for anyone, and you especially don't have to make excuses to yourself to justify writing it in the first place.

#*grandpa simpson voice* back in my day we called it pwp and we tagged it that way and the people LOVED it #i fucking love writing smut and like yeah sometimes plot happens in the build up #but make no mistake about it #nine times out of ten i wrote the fic because i wanted to write the filth #the plot was incidental #and mostly for dirty purposes anyways to create anticipation #there's a reason i have daniel wracked with nerves in the build up to every thing i do #so that it's a release when he does give in and commit the act #but all that build up is 100% psychosexual in nature #anyways i feel sad seeing some people try to always insist their smut has a point so it's okay to write it or draw it or whatever #make the filth celebrate making the filth just go for it!!#anne rice did for four entire books!!!#and she wasn't ashamed and didn't need them to have literary value #on fanfiction #writing stuff

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marcsnuffy · 7 days

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re: those posts, I will never understand how passionate some cishet male manga fans get when describing two male characters fucking to criticize the media they're talking about

#just the terms dickrider/meatrider/glazer are enough #you go on youtube shorts & theyll go like “[character] is a meat muncher glazing champion who bounces on it every day”#like damn ok.?#i know you're exaggerating for comedic effect but why did you say it like that #ik its something similar to why the gayer cishet men act the straighter they are but i will never understand #i dont want to talk abt how weird they got w orochimaru and sasuke #WAIT THE FLOCH & EREN JOKES TOO #had dudebros writing FANFICTION mid youtube videos #this hopefully means nothing to you all. I spend too much time on that side of the internet. unfortunately!#wait just saw a reddit comment saying reo's “meatriding to a suicidal extent” in epi nagi. HELP?#txt #also related to the comments on manga4life i swear some of them are summaries to pwp fics on ao3 atp

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theflyingfeeling · 4 months

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hi yes it's me writing another Olli/Allu shortie, inspired by the tags in @xgiuliawrites' latest fic (which y'all should go read immediately if you haven't), particularly I was intrigued by the tags sauna, masturbation, and accidental voyeurism 😳

~*~

Aleksi had not meant for it to happen, because of course he hadn't. He hadn't planned to let his imagination run quite so wild, too wild, while sitting next to Olli in the sauna just moments ago, trying to look everywhere else but Olli's happy trail, trying hard not to imagine the salty taste if he was to place a hungry kiss there (he blamed Porko's stupid playlist which had Olli humming a song about pouring tequila in one's belly button in between throwing more water on the stones, pushing Aleksi's agony to the brink of his sanity).

Likewise, he had not intented to grow a semi while washing himself, the knowledge that Olli might have been staring at his bare backside the entire time exciting Aleksi as much as intimidating him (he blamed the wonky reflection on the shower tap the revealed Olli's eyes travelling up and down his body as he showered).

Even less so, his intention being to get out of the changing room and in the cold winter air as fast as he could to kill his budding boner before it would become a problem, he most certainly had not forgotten his toiletry bag on the changing room bench on purpose. Yet, there he was now, mouth hanging open at the sight he was witnessing through the tinted glass door of the sauna, the toiletry bag and his plans of cooling down long forgotten (for which he only had himself to blame, let's face it).

With his long lashes resting against his cheekbones, it was clear Olli had not noticed Aleksi's return, otherwise he obviously wouldn't have ended up in this situation. That was why he should've turned back the second he had realised what was happening on the other side of the glass door separating the sauna and the changing room, as that's what a good friend and a decent person would've done, immediately and with no hesitation. However, as the past week had proved, Aleksi was not a good friend; verily, he was a horrible, useless, and immoral friend who had gone and started having sexual fantasies about his hot, funny and super cute bandmate late at night while sleeping next to that very bandmate on their song-writing camp combined with a winter holiday (even if no one could hardly blame Aleksi for it, because who wouldn't start lusting over the divine being that was Olli Matela, especially when one got to lay beside his gorgeous naked body at night).

Indeed, there was no denying Aleksi was no decent person either, not with his eyes nailed to Olli as he pleasured himself in the heat of the sauna.

The soles of Olli's feet were pressed against the foot rail, which was exactly how Aleksi had left him, but while Olli's knees had then been close together with his arms relaxed on them, they were now wide apart to fully expose Olli's cock, pointing towards the ceiling with his hand stroking it at a leisurely pace. The hardness of his erection, standing proudly while Olli's fingers slid up and down the length, was a dead giveaway that Olli had wasted no time since Aleksi had left – either that, or he, too, had felt the strange, steamy tension during their shared sauna moment.

While Olli's right hand was devoted to rubbing his erection, his left one was free to roam all over his sweaty torso, which did nothing to ease the building pressure in Aleksi's pants. Aleksi let out a lustful sigh as he watched Olli's hand caress his own abdomen, fondling the happy trail Aleksi himself had lusted over just a few moments ago. When the hand moved up again to massage Olli's chest and to tease a red, harneded nipple, Aleksi had to sunk his teeth into his bottom lip to stop himself from whining out loud. He craved to replace Olli's hand with his own, to be the one giving Olli such bliss that had his head thump against the sauna panelling and his stomach sinking in a deep, euphoric sigh.

Only then – hearing the thud of Olli's head resting against the wall behind him – Aleksi could bear to leave the sight of Olli's body and look up at his face instead. There, Aleksi found a small smile, only barely visible through the coloured glass door, but it spoke volumes of how much Olli was enjoying himself. Aleksi wished he could've joined Olli in his pleasure, perhaps even be the reason for it, but for now he had to settle for palming himself through his trousers to give his own aching cock some much-needed relief. Shortly after, guilt forced him to remove his hand and dig his nails into his thighs when he felt himself getting close to coming embarrassingly quickly.

He should leave. He should throw himself in the snow and let the blizzard bury him, or whatever it would take to reboot his brain and erase all the images of Olli sitting on the sauna bench with his legs spread and his hand pumping up and down on his long, rock-hard cock, because there was no way he would be able to look his friend in the eye after this, let alone sleep next to him under any circumstances.

Just when Aleksi had convinced himself to make his silent escape and perhaps drown himself in the hole Tommi and Niko had sawed in the ice for some post-sauna ice swimming, as that was the least he deserved for being such a pervert, a low moan from the sauna nailed Aleksi's feet to the floor.

His eyes found Olli's erection again to immediately notice that the earlier calm, almost lazy pace of Olli's hand had now been replaced with a much quicker one, one that was determined to take Olli closer to his release with each long stroke. His left hand had abandoned his nipple and was instead fondling his balls, which seemed to bring Olli a great deal of additional pleasure, if the ecstatic expression on his face was anything to go by.

"Aaahhhh... aaaahhhhhh..." Olli's grunts went straight to Aleksi's cock that was twitching inside his boxers as if to poke at Aleksi for his attention. He didn't dare touch himself again, though, having decided he'd rather freeze his own penis by sticking his hard-on in a bank of snow than walk through the living room with jizz in his pants.

As Olli's moans grew louder and more frequent, Aleksi realised he wouldn't probably even need to grab his cock to come undone in his pants from just looking at Olli, at his hardened bicep, at his hair-covered chest expanding and sinking rapidly, at his glistening cock inside his fist that hastened its movements by the second until streaks of white fell on Olli's stomach with one last moan (more like a whine (more like the sweetest single sound that had ever blessed Aleksi's ears)).

Aleksi ignored the throbbing in his pants as he devoured Olli, who was now relaxing against the wall completely, his fingers but resting on his still hard member instead of gripping it in search for an orgasm.

A satisfied, laid-back smile spread on Olli's lips, and all too late Aleksi understood what for. All too late, Aleksi realised he had missed his cue to cut and run in shame, when Olli opened his eyes to look straight into his.

Olli's smile didn't falter, and there was no sign of shock or embarassement in his dark gaze. If anything, the smile widened, and the already horny look in his eyes grew ever more lewd as it flickered between Aleksi's face and his crotch, Aleksi's hand doing a poor job hiding the tent on the front of this sweatpants.

Olli raised an eyebrow and nodded towards it.

"Need a hand with that?"

#random tumblr ficlets by theflyingfeeling #i'm so sorry it's such pwp but i couldn't be bothered to come up with a deeper plot lol #imagine this all takes place in a similar situation as giulia's fic but not the exact same AU #and the song olli is humming in the sauna is 'tequila' by vesala which i spotted on sinking-into-mist's olli/allu playlist 💖#btw it's the kind of sauna where the shower is _in_ the sauna btw. it's a thing i swear lol i've experienced one myself #not my best work so idk if i'll be adding this on ao3 #(just wanted to get this out of my head and give y'all the mental images i've been torturing myself for the past days lol)#blind channel rpf #blind channel fanfiction #ollixallu #edit. ugh so many typos 💀

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