#everyone who leaves nice tags in reblogs
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I love my mutuals so much it’s insane i care you guys so much <33333
#everyone who leaves nice tags in reblogs#everyone who sends me nice asks out of the blue just because just to be nice#everyone who likes my flop posts 😭/lh#ilysmmm/p
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today's dragon dizzy is a warm up!
#sin kiske#dizzy guilty gear#anthro dragon#dragon#anthro#sfw furry#clean furry#furry#taking this chance to say thank you to everyone who reblogs my posts and leaves nice tags!#it encourages to keep posting my art :0)#otherwise it would all be hidden away in my 700 sketchbooks#i wish i could thank all of your personally but im far too shy
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another painting
#because i have no self control lmao#käärijä#jere pöyhönen#digital art#this was surprisingly fun to paint#i usually prefer working in black and white because it's easier for me#but this one was fine lol#also#i just wanted to say#thank you to everyone who leaves nice comments in the tags of my posts#i read all of them and seriously i appreciate this so much you have no idea#i've been absolutely miserable recently#and reading all the nice things you guys wrote#really made me feel better#so yeah... thank you!#(i do appreciate all likes and reblogs btw and i don't want anyone to feel pressured into leaving a comment or smth)#(i just really had to say thanks lol)
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I'll stop posting wips eventually but it's been five days since I've said anything and I don't want anyone to think I'm dead/dying/stuck in a ditch and withering away, so here's 10% of the reason I disappeared (the duck is stuck in rendering hell) (and my little baby laptop is screaming at me every time I open up this file)
I might still be mostly lurking for a little bit so please be patient with me in the meantime 🙏🙏
#seriously though I'm sorry for just up and disappearing like that#wanna talk to people and interact with them so bad lately but I just can't bring myself to do it#so the best i can manage is blabbing in the tags like always#i don't know wtf is going on but over the past few days I've just felt like i don't deserve to talk to anyone#tried to reblog posts from mutuals several times but something in my head keeps saying;#'yeah they don't actually care for your input at all and you're being a bother for even trying etc etc'#and i know deep down that's probably not true (i hope) but i can't reason it away you know#and i know the best solution to this is to just talk to someone#let it be known that i *did* make an attempt to#i tried texting someone (and succeeded) but i couldn't keep doing it and I'm back at square one (and now feel worse lmao)#i'm not really putting this here for anybody to see it as much as i am for myself#but i know that (hypothetically) this could be seen by a real human so it still kinda feels like I'm reaching out in a way which feels nice#makes me feel less like I'm shriveling up in my own self imposed solitude#so uh hello person who might be reading the tags (there's six of you guys here now which is crazy cause i post nothing but junk here lol)#((but thanks anyway for following and even more thanks for reading this if you did))#i'll make my way around all the posts i missed soon enough don't worry#i'm sorry i'm really not meaning to ignore anybody#i have drafted quite a few posts from moots that i couldn't finish leaving comments on but i have seen them#everyone here is super cool and talented as always <3 whether that be through art or writing or just finding neat posts to share#this wall of text is long enough and i'm very eeby so thank you again for reading this#tldr; not dead and i'll be okay eventually :)#not rb#hey look i didn't post a picture of my dog this time (a crime)#i'll make sure to share one the next time i get a good one
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@ people who tag cute stuff on my art: i see you and i love you
#i can't really thank everyone each time because what am i gonna do#reblog every time someone leaves a comment in the tags to leave a comment in the tags myself? that would be hellish#but i read the tags every time and i really appreciate all of you who leave some nice tags on my art#beloved mutuals too you know who you are
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tumblr like vs reblog discourse is hell because people will write entire paragraphs about how "well actually likes don't really support artists because it doesn't feed anything into an algorithm" like that's all there is.
like one human being reaching out to another through the framework of a social media site to be like "hey, i saw this thing you made and it meant something to me" means nothing to anyone. like that's less important than feeding your opinion of someone's work into an algorithm designed with the primary function of keeping you on their site so you can make them more money.
i appreciate reblogs and retweets and new follows and comments just like anyone else. but i'm not going to sit here and resent the people that only like. and i'm especially not going to let myself get so poisoned by social media i convince myself the human behind them doesn't matter.
calling art and writing "content", viewing the concept of support through the lens of algorithms and exposure and statistics. there's nothing more human than Making Things but all we do is try to take all the human out of it.
#maybe i've spent too much time on AO3#there's no need to share or rely on others for ~exposure~. my writing is just there forever whenever anyone wants to go looking for it#sure a comment is nice but kudos are the only real currency there so there is nothing to devalue them like there is on twitter and tumblr#the other thing is that at some point or another you have to realise that you cannot See the way everyone interacts with your work#it's nice to see reblogs and see what tags they leave etc. but some people will keep to themselves and adore your work in secret#do the artists whose work i've had as pc/mobile backgrounds know about that? know they have inspired me? know they have changed me?#you have to be content with not knowing the inner thoughts of everyone who sees your work#you can't assume anything about yourself or others based on which button someone presses under your art#txt
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#how do i react to this#on a more serious note thanks for everyone who (actively) follows me#and puts up with my very content and mood that switches 'wie ein Fähnchen im Wind' lol#special shoutout to everyone who leaves nice or chaotic tags in their reblogs#rambling
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In light of this: People who quote a line from your fic that stood out to them and then come to you to talk or scream about it deserve a special place in heaven.
You are angels and shouldn't be taken for granted <3
UNFRIENDLY REMINDER.
that fic writer you love so much? spam them with love. talk about their writing to them. give them compliments and talk about where you thought the story was going. TALK ABOUT HOW GREAT THIER CONTENT AND WRITING IS. TALK TO THEM. TALK TO YOUR FRIENDS. HELL, TALK TO ANYONE ON YOUR DASH WHO WILL LISTEN.
BOOST THE HELL OUT OF THEIR CONTENT IF YOU LOVE IT.
we should support the art we love, in wHATever form.
#🍁 dust reblogs#not just referring to me specifically#but a fandom can only flourish if everyone works to keep it alive#I've seen a lot of people stop writing or getting into a funk#because no one wanted to talk to them#and I've had times like that already too I'm not even gonna lie#there is nothing that boost the motivation to create more content than when you feel like what you put out is actually being read#everyone who sends kind messages or leaves comments or nice tags on my fics are the reason I want to produce more content
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if i dropped a gifset rn would it flop 😳😳
#v.txt#the answer of course is yes no matter when i post#thank you to everyone who reblogs and if you leave nice tags i am kissing you on the forehead
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— cowboy hat rule.
pairing: cowboy!steve harrington x fem!reader
warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising, kinda degrading but not really, a lil argument, dom!steve, rivals to fcking, swearing, good old bj for our good boy stevie! reader has a nickname 'sunshine' bc i didn't wanna do y/n sorry:(
summary: helping out mr. harrington in his ranch was supposed to be fun, but steve harrington was an asshole. an absolute pain in your ass that teased you, and you gave him the same energy back, always. so when you unknowingly wear his cowboy hat, he decides to teach you what exactly the cowboy hat rule is. (wc: 5k+)
author's note: this is just horny babbling. i have no idea how cowboy lore works so if im wrong pls just close ur eyes i tried to research but i couldnt find shit just pls i just want cowboy steve dick. and ofc no proof-reading bc im lazy as hell. no dividers ugly aesthetic bc of tumblrs f ass not showing my shit in tags SIGH.
also PLSSS LIKE + REBLOG + COMMENT TO SUPPORT ME MWAH ILY
When you told Mr. Harrington you’d be more than happy to help around his Ranch during the summer, you didn’t expect Steve to become a problem, but you were wrong, so fucking wrong.
A cocky cowboy who’s way too into partying and into his looks and his fluffy hair than you could ever imagine. That’s exactly how you’d describe Steve Harrington. Even though you so badly wanted to believe otherwise, wanted to disregard the rumors and the reputation that came with him. But, he made it so goddamn hard.
All he fucking did was tease you, complain. Order you around and act like you didn’t know how to do shit. And, you didn’t, but he was supposed to be your guidance, teach you. But all he did was grumble and give you that goddamned smirk.
Yet, you couldn’t fully hate him, there was a side of him he rarely showed you, one that cared, one that offered you rides—it was more of a mumble each night but you accepted nonetheless, one that ended up at your side whenever an asswipe bothered you at the bar, one that offered you a hand on your back when you were crying, he didn’t ask what happened, didn’t speak, just stood there, letting you spill out your guts. The two of you never spoke about these incidents, ever, because he acted like they didn’t exist, like he couldn’t bear the thought of being nice to you.
You were so fascinated by him, even though you’d never admit it out loud. He was charismatic, outright funny, and had a heart of gold that you only peered one layer of.
And fuck it, he was fine, annoyingly good-looking that he was a distraction to be around when you were supposed to be working, him with those sturdy denim jeans that cupped his ass perfectly, wide-brimmed cowboy hat with a creased crown, put perfectly on his head. Even though you’d much rather see his pretty hair falling on his face, run your hands through his smooth layers.
Usually, when it got as hot as it did today, he’d even take off that stupid shirt, feast your eyes with his glimmering chest, all hairy and glistening with sweat, broad shoulders as he ordered everyone around made you gulp. Like he is doing with you, right fucking now.
“Sunshine, get back to work.” Heat travels to your cheeks quickly, and that stupid nickname rolls off his lips so bitterly, the one he always called you just because you were all nice and smiley—even when he was being an asshole to you, something that grinded his gears, you guessed it was a foreign concept to him, being nice.
You were quick to shake off the hold he had on you, getting back on your feet as you stood your ground. “I am working! Just needed a second to breathe!” The lies rolled off your lips so simply that you wondered if he caught you staring. When he turned around to leave, you guessed he hadn’t.
“Asshole.” The insult leaves you before you can register how close Steve still was to you.
Turning head-spinningly fast. “What did ya say?” He spits, making you gulp physically.
He looks out of the world stunning when he’s mad, maybe it’s a toxic trait of yours but, fuck, the way his chocolate hues turn unrecognizable, that slight quirk of his brows, and the way his muscles flex in pure anger made you rub your thighs together.
Jesus Christ. He is getting into your head, and you hate that you think of him this way when he is so mean.
“Nothing! I’m just saying it’s really hot out today,” you hum, the sun rays hitting your face not making it easier on the heat that flame your cheeks.
He gives you a snort, all mocking once he takes a step closer, making you feel hotter if that is possible. “Well that’s what happens in the summer, darlin’”
Hand on the wall he tilts his head slightly, all with sass that has you rolling your eyes. “Or did you expect the weather to give Miss Sunshine some sorta special treatment?”
You roll your eyes, an act you always did that makes Steve’s jaw clench. “Oh, come on Steve! It’s really, really, hot, and the sun is all on my face!”
“Boo-hoo, princess,” he mocks, tipping his hat, almost as if to tease you further.
You scoff, getting closer to him. “Easy for you to just stand around in that big hat!” With a narrowed gaze, you cross your arms against your chest, like a brat, another trait that annoyed Steve even further.
Then, you beam again, and Steve knows no matter how much you hate it, Sunshine is absolutely the nickname you deserve, eyes glistening with happiness that it annoyingly even brings a glint to his pretty amber hues. His gaze unintentionally droops down to tour lips, so plushy and soft looking when it curls into that pretty smile that Steve wants to kiss you all over.
“Oh! Do you mind if I?” You ask all giggly, pointing toward his wide-brimmed hat, hand teasingly standing above his head.
He scoffs as if you had just asked him the most insulting question ever. “Not a chance,” he spits, now he crosses his arms in front of his chest, eyeing you with a dark glint in his eyes, one you couldn’t decide was full of annoyance or just pure desire.
“Mhmmm… okay,” you hum, feigning innocence for a second, before snatching it off his head with another hearty giggle.
Oh, what he would do to hear that on a loop, admire the way your lips stretched into the prettiest grin, brows quirked.
“Sunshine!” He chides, much rougher than he intends to, but you don’t pay attention to him when you place the hat carefully on your head, smoothing your hair.
You shrug, looking up at him with those doe eyes that have him melting, everytime, without fail. “Admit it, looks better on me.” You shrug, expecting him to agree.
Instead, he just offers you a deep sigh of breath, eyes almost widening when he realises what you just did. “Do you even—”
He huffs, hiding the obvious pink shade thats starting to color his cheeks, you really had no idea the hold you had on him, did you? “God, you city girls have no idea about anything, huh?”
Your brows furrow. “What?”
“Cowboy hat rule?” He asks with a tilt of his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.
A teasing smile curves on your plushy lips as you push for more information. “What’s that?”
“Just give me the hat back,” he insists, attempting to mask the warmth that crept into his tone.
With a shake of your head, your defiance only grows, a glint of mischief dancing in your gaze. “Not until you tell me the rules.”
“Sunshine,” he warns, voice so grumbly that heat travels all over your body quicker than the sun burning you.
“Steve?” You hum with a flirty gaze, so teasing that Steve wants to fuck you right then and there, until he teaches you proper manners, until he shows you not to be a total fucking brat and not to roll your eyes at him, until he shows you that you’re his.
But, of course, he settles on a low grumble of, “You’re annoying.”
“You used to be more creative with the insults, Harrington.” Another teasing remark, and Steve rolls his tongue inside of his mouth.
With a smirk, he takes another step toward you, when your back hit the walls of the barn, only then you realise, he has you cornered. “You wanna know the cowboy hat rule, princess?” He asks all smugly.
Gaze meaner than he is, chest almost pressed against yours, voice so low that all you can do is slightly nod.
Your breath gets hitched in your throat when his face is mere inches away from yours, hot breath fanning against your cheeks, skin heating on the impact, that brattiness you wear as a mask quick to slip off when he’s all demanding. “You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” His tone is almost a growl, pupils blown wide, making you gulp, physically.
“What?” You blink, unsure of what he’s actually asking. Excitement jumping around in your tummy.
“You heard me. Wanna take me for a ride, Sunshine?” He is so goddamn close that you are sure he can hear the annoying tumble your heart does at the weight of what his words hold.
It makes you pause, gaze sticking on his, sometimes slipping away to his soft lips, almost to signal him of something, but all you can do is try to hide the embarrassment that burns your cheeks.
“Didn’t think so,” he scoffs, backing away just slightly.
His cowboy hat is too big on your head, tipping low over your eyes, possibly hiding your nervousness as you mutter, “What if I do?”
With a smooth motion, he flips it off from your head, holding it with his palm, away from you. “Get back to work, Sunshine.”
“I’m serious—”
“So am I, those horses ain’t gonna straddle their strap themselves, off. to. work,” he hisses, turning to leave.
You huff, heat still burning off your cheeks, more embarrassed than annoyed, yet you still don’t have it in yourself to let it go, you can’t let him have this. Win this.
Quick to snatch the hat back, “So the hat rule is, wear the cowboy hat, ride the cowboy, huh?” You mumble behind him, your voice failing you, yet you appear to be giggly, and Steve heaves a deep sigh of breath, before fully turning to you.
He halts a bit when he sees you once again, in his hat, tipped low, that stupidly addicting smirk gracing your slightly-open lips, hand on your hips, and all he wants to do is fuck you till you lose that attitude of yours.
“Stop,” he warns, taking a step closer to you but with a shake of your head you back away, and he sighs, loud and annoyed.
“Gimme that, sunshine!”
“Nuh-uh.” All teasing and bratty, and grating on Steve’s last nerve. You know this, yet you wanna keep pushing him, further and further, until he snaps, until he can’t take it anymore. You have no reason to do this, you’re supposed to hate him, think of him as an annoying asshole.
But the two of you are finally tethering on that line, the line between purely teasing each other out of spite, to teasing each other out of flirting, you know that, and you don’t wanna take a step back. “Prove it.”
You are all up in his face, and all he can do his roll his eyes, cheeks beetle red, frustration worn on his face. “Knock it off.”
You tut gently, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Not until you—” Your words are interrupted quickly when he snatches up the hat from your head in annoyance, making you gasp when he discarded it easily.
“Get back to work!” His voice raises, and it makes you take a deep breath.
Shit, did you fuck this up?
“What?” You question, entire body feeling dizzy. He takes a step closer.
“You heard me.”
Another step closer, his breaths come out in short gasps, frustration taking over him. “Get back to fuckin’ work, before I can’t stop myself.”
He is close. Too fucking close, and you can’t help the way your gaze droops down to his soft lips, slightly parted open, downturned from frustration. God, you realize how hot he is when he is angry, once again. “F—from what?”
He hesitates, before licking his lips. This is it. He wants, no, he desperately needs you. Needs to put you to your place. Teach you what happens to bratty girls like you. Show you what exactly the stupid rule is. “From fucking you in this goddamn barn.”
You release the breath you’ve been holding back, feeling small, so small under his gaze. Mouth hanging open, and all you want is him to pin you against the wall, have you screaming out his name. “From making sure I show you how the goddamn cowboy hat rule works.”
Your back is plastered against the wall, his hands are by your side, you are caged beneath him, chest rising in anticipation. “Is that what you want, honey, think you can handle all of that?” He’s so smug, and you don’t know what overtakes you when he’s all in control like this, you wanna obey him, make him happy, proud, so you bite back on your insults.
His smirk is dangerously alluring, and you’re under his spell.
“Please,” you beg, heat finds your cheeks again, you hate the hold he has on you.
He barks out a chuckle, so mean, yet as equally hot. “Please, what? Speak up,” he spits, rolling his tongue inside of the roof of his mouth, lips wearing a smirk.
“Ruin me,” your voice is small, meek, yet it makes him groan.
You’re such a good girl for him, and he wants nothing more than to ruin you. Fully. Completely. Ruin you for every other man.
His head ducks down to your neck, leaving a sloppy kiss before leaning into your ear, his breath hot on your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Goddamit darlin’, you gonna be the death of me, huh?”
You don’t—you can’t answer, you’re speechless, rubbing your thighs together desperately, seeking some friction, a touch, anything.
He levels with you again, dangerous gaze on your lips, fingertips brushing against your cheeks teasingly “You know what I always wanted to do, sunshine?” He coarses lowly.
“W—what?” You ask with a gulp, lips twitching with need.
He gives you another grin, that asshole. The pad of his thumb slowly caressing your lips now, making you shiver with hunger. “Always wanted to put you to your place, you and that damn smart mouth, always runnin’ it for no good reason. I’d give you a good reason for those pretty lips, huh? Use it the way I wanna use it, fill it the way I wanna feel it,” he grunts like he said the most normal thing, yet you’re already squirming, wanting to open your lips, take his fingers in your mouth and suck on them, show him how much of a good girl you can be for him.
He has you on such a hold already, and you can’t complain. For someone who seemed to be annoyed—hell, even hated him a few minutes ago, you feel crazy, batshit insane, all you want is him.
His fingertips play with your lips all teasingly, pupils blown wide, the other hand caresses your hair so possessively that you melt into his touch. “You gonna be good for me sweet thing?”
He doesn’t have to ask you twice. “Y—yes, sir.”
Sir.
Godfuckingdammit. You don’t know the hold you have on him, do you?
He bites back on the moan that rumbles in his throat, instead settling on a, “Good girl.” Your puppy dog eyes glint at the praise, and he makes a mental note of it. .
“Get on your knees f’me, darlin’,” he grumbles, and you’re quick to obey, not minding the uncomfortable feeling of the wooden floors scraping your knees, or the fact that anyone might’ve walked in, the door was locked, and there was probably no one around yet Mr. Harrington might’ve returned to the ranch at any moment. But he made you feel safe, somehow.
You look up at him with those doe-eyes again, making him suck in a breath before he unbuttons his jeans and pushes them off his hips, boxers so tight around his hard cock that he grunts involuntarily.
Your eyes go wide the second his erection springs free, almost hitting the tip of your nose, red, angry and leaking with pre-cum, he lets out a chuckle at your expression before grabbing the base of his cock.
Same eyes, looking up at him all hungrily, Steve feels the way blood rushes quickly to his cock, making him harder if that's even possible, with a groan he runs the leaking tip across your lips. “Open up.”
Your hand replaces his quickly, and he runs his fingers through several strands of your hair, teaching you how exactly he wants you.
You open your mouth wide, just like he likes it, tongue giving his slit kitten licks, moaning at the taste of his salty pre-cum, wrapping your plushy lips around his thick head, and sucking the life out of him, determined, and feigning innocence with the soft gaze you held.
Head thrown back, heavy boots planted on the harsh ground, he lets out a low groan, stroking your hair all softly. “Look at you s’pretty like this for me.”
His hand wraps tighter around your hair, pushing you onto him, making sure you gag a little and that only spurs you on, making you whine around his cock, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Cat got your tongue, darlin’?” He chuckles all meanly.
“God, do you have any idea how many times I wanted to shut up that bratty mouth like this?” He asks with grunts leaving his open mouth, hand working harshly around your head, mouth feeling like heaven the more you bob around his thick length, struggling to take all of him.
“Those pretty lips are—mmpf, shit—better stuffed with my cock than being a spoiled lil’ city girl runnin’ her mouth, ain’t that right, baby?” You nod meekly, angelic eyes seeking for his validation before you flatten your tongue around the sensitive part of his tip, struggling to take all of him in your mouth. Earning guttural moans, eyes squeezed shut as he feels your soft lips wrapped around him again.
“Fuck, sweet thing.” You can feel his filthy grunts straight in your core, all low and lewd that you almost moan around him again, he puts one hand on the wall, helping himself to better move in and out of your throat.
He knows if you keep this up, he’ll cum right and there, and fuck, he needs that. But he needs to be inside of you more.
You keep up your stroking, now adjusting yourself properly to start licking and sucking on his balls. “Sunshine, you need to s—stop,” the words barely leave his lips, he so doesn’t want you to stop. But, he needs to cum inside of you.
Yet, you don’t listen to him as your movement speeds up, determined to feel his load warming your throat, make him proud, and your mouth bobs harder around his length, making him growl at you harshly. “Sunshine,” he warns, pulling you by your hair.
You’re quick to take a deep breath of air once he pulls you off, looking up at him with the perfect innocent eyes, your lips wearing the prettiest pout. “Was that not good for you, Stevie?”
Stevie. That nickname makes his head spin faster, all he wants to do is fuck you against those stupid rustic walls, have you screaming out for him, the whole ranch filled with your filthy noises, no one was around anyway.
“You kiddin’, sweetheart?” He gives you a chuckle, wrapping his hands around your jaw, pulling you off the floor.
“You were fuckin’ amazing,” he hums, leaning down to kiss you, tasing the salty semen on your tongue.
His hands are quick to travel along to your waist, fingertips finding their way onto your panties rather quickly, earning a gasp out of you. “Need to be in here first, honey.”
You nod, so quickly that you can feel him grinning into the kiss, his hands are everywhere, yours are more or less the same, quick to get rid of his top, to feel his toned chest in your soft hands, your top is sprawled right next to his, revealing your pink and gold bra at him, breasts peeking out just enough to have him groan, big hands quick to get rid of them.
He has you caged against the amber walls, back hitting the rough material, making you hiss. Your skin heats at the impact, it’s filthy, lewd, and so public, but none of you even care enough to break the kiss. He settles between your thighs, his pants drooped to his ankles, hands rubbing across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
The sight of you so easily submitting to him, makes his cock grow harder than he thought was possible, looking so ethereal that Steve forgets all about everything else. “Sunshine,” he breathes, hands fiddling with the hem of your panties.
“Mhmm,” is all you can muster, legs slightly open for him, and he almost feels possessive over you, it’s entirely stupid, but he looks so fucking alluring with those dark chestnut eyes, layered hair a mess, and cock weeping entirely with the thought of you.
His thumb runs over the seam of your pussy, just a glimpse of how his fingers are going to ruin you, and you pulse and clench against him already. Wet. Drenched. And all ready to take him. “You’re soaked,” he groans.
Leaning further into your ear, “is that all for me, honey?” he rasps, desperate, needing your confirmation.
Heat grows in your cheeks faster than a scorching day in July, and he grins, again, all cocky and proud. “Yes,” you admit meekly, and Steve’s quick to kiss your worries away.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he growls, swirling your wetness up and around your slit, almost toying with you, having you desperately mewl for him.
He can’t put his finger on it, what it is that draws him this much into you, but he’s hooked, so goddamn obsessed that he feels like an idiot, for being this much of an asshole, for acting like a grade school boy who’s pulling the pigtails of his crush. Like a stupid cliche.
“Stevie.” That nickname, again. Godfuckingdammit, Steve thinks. You have him so wrapped around your finger, it’s like a prayer, and he’s sure you’re not aware of it. And it drives him even crazier. “Please.”
“Talk to me.” His voice is low, lips now nipping at your neck, suckling, giving you all the marks you need.
“I need you,” you hum, eyes squeezed shut, desperate. His finger discard your panties and slide easily inside of you, your back is fully dipped into the well-worn walls with how good he feels, his thick fingers making their way in and out of your soppy cunt, whines leave your lips faster than you can comprehend.
“Ruin me, Steve, fully, completely.” You don’t know how those words leave past your lush lips, but your thighs ache with need, cunt throbbing for him and him only.
His eyes widen quickly, pure hunger quick to fill his veins, mouth hanging open, curses leaving his lips at how forward you are being. “Show me the cowboy hat rule, sir.”
Steve all but groans, mouth harshly on yours again, chests pressed together and you can feel how hard he truly is, rock stiff, and aching to be inside of you. The sheer size of how he feels against your thighs almost makes your eyes bulge again.
His fingers stop moving in and out of you, before you can whine, he spins you around so fast that you gasp loudly, hands immediately plastered on the wall, pleasure and excitement fills your tummy, but the fact that he’s seeing you all vulnerable like this is embarrassing enough that you try to close your legs.
He’s quick to stop you with a grin, rough hands landing on the back of your thighs, spreading them open while tutting you. “Nuh-uh. Don’t get all shy now, princess. Spread them open f’me.” You spread them a little, cunt throbbing with how close his fingers are.
He groans again once he fully gets a view of you like this, face down, ass up, your pussy slicked with your juices, at his mercy. “‘M gonna ruin you, honey, don’t you worry.” A dark chuckle barks out from his chest, sending chills down your spine, almost making you whine.
Fuck.
His hands are rough when he has you by your waist, bruising almost. Lining his cock in front of your slick core, he swipes the head of his reddened tip inside of you with one forceful thrust. Your plushy lips open slightly, stealing your breath away as you try to adjust to his size.
Shit, shit, shit, he feels even better than you fucking expected.
His cock splits you open, filling every goddamn inch of you. You don’t know how many times you thought this, but, shit, he’s as big as the gossip in this small town says he is.
His thrusts are slow, grunts so loud and heavenly that it spurs you on more and more. His weight on you, the bruising hold. You feel him everywhere. On your back, hips, and fucking inside of you.
“F-fucking, fuck!” he growls, leaving nibbles all over your shoulder and back, even with the fact that this was Steve, and he was rough and filthy, it was wildly intimate, so wildly intimate that you could feel your heart pounding inside of your chest.
“How are you this fuckin’ tight, s-sweetheart?” One of his hands travel up to your neck, roughly holding you down, hips slamming into you with such force that you cry out.
He watches the way his girthy cock disappears in and out of you, wetting himself with your juices, filling every inch of you. “Doin’ s’good for me, princess.” His praises are heavenly, making your chest swell with pride.
He moves inside of your soppy cunt with short thrusts. Completely bottomed out, thrusting against the same sensitive spot every time as his balls, heavy with cum grind against your clit, with each movement, making you cry out his name, babbles leaving your mouth. “Yeah, you like this don’t ya? Want me to ruin this slutty pussy, huh? Ruin it for every other men?”
You nod all dumbly, yet, it isn’t enough for him. He wants to hear you, have you scream it out. “Say it, sweet thing, fuckin’ say it,” he groans, coarse voice making tingles appear everywhere on your skin.
“I-I love it, Stevie, want you to ruin me for everyone else, mmpf,” you moan all fucked out, eyes rolled all the way back to your head, hips desperately grinding against him for some more friction.
He picks up his pace, fucking into you with reckless abandon.“F-fuck doll, won’t last if you keep runnin’ that dirty mouth.”
But his words just encourage you to keep going, gasps coming out in short breaths as you manage to drive him crazier. “All yours, sir, all yours.”
He grunts at that, one of his arms snaking around and under your hips to find a better angle, lifting you up so that he can fuck his cock deeper into you, make you feel how fucking big he really is. “That’s right, baby, it’s all fuckin’ mine.”
Hot tears spill down your cheeks, entire body burning with it. The slick sounds of his hips driving into you, your moans, his low groans are all that fill the room. So fucking filthy, and you can feel yourself clenching around him.
It’s all too much; his hands everywhere, the lewd noises he makes, how deep his girthy cock is bottomed out inside of you, making you feel every ridge. It’s fucking perfect, and you desperately need to cum.
And of fucking course, Steve can feel your pussy gripping him, so tight that he knows he’s gonna cum right after you do. “Gonna cum f’me, huh? Such a good girl,” he praises, again, knowing the effect it has on you and all you can do is gasp and weakly nod.
One of his thumbs quickly finds your clit, making your pussy throb around him in pure ecstasy, all the overstimulation enough to have you crying like a bitch in heat. “Give it to me, angel,” he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses everywhere on your skin.
His movements pick up, padded thumb rubbing circles around your clit, the other hand landing on your nipples, twisting them while pumping into you, it’s all too much that it makes you sob and beg for him.
“Cream my cock, let me ruin you completely, darlin’” It’s all the confirmation you need as your orgasm builds and washes through you, body exploding with pleasure, spreading through your skin as you scream out his name.
Your pussy squeezes and pulses around his cock, and he fucking knows, he won’t last, not in the slightest. “S-shit, sweet thing, gonna make me cum with all those filthy noises.”
“Want that, honey, hmm? Wanna be filled with my cum? Show everybody in this town who owns ya? Owns this tight lil’ cunt?” He feels it, that pure hunger for you over taking him, coarse voice, dark eyes, like a man possessed. His fingers dig further into your skin as he desperately chases his orgasm, enjoying the sloppy sounds your pussy makes as he drives into you.
“P-please, Stevie, n-need your cum,” you weakly hum. And it fucking breaks him. Hips losing all rhythm when he spills his warm load into you, twitching inside of you once he pumps you full of his cum.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Sunshine,” he breathes, collapsing on your back, both of you trying to come down from the high. He slips free of you slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs, making him grin proudly.
“S-steve,” you weakly murmur, collapsing in his arms. He holds you down, slight kisses left on your back, delicate in a way you have never seen him before. Yet, the two of you don’t mention it, “let me take you home,” he mutters, a gentle hold on you that makes you feel warm.
“N-no.”
“No?” Intrigued, his breath gets caught in his throat, the look you give him is so sultry that the blood rushes to his cock in an instant again. Fucking fuck, what have you done to him.
“We still haven’t followed the rules,” you purr sweetly, causing him to raise his brows in excitement, tempting him further and further.
“The rule was wear the hat, ride the cowboy, wasn’t it?” You question with a slight grin, eyes lulled, still fucked out.
Your fingertips gently grazed against his chest, hairy and slicked with sweat, his sudden dominance fading when you were so quick to switch from begging to cum underneath him to gaining that flirty, giddy personality again. Already leaving him a mess. “Y-yeah,” he murmured, watching you hungrily, his cock already weeping again.
“Then, sit down and lemme take care of you, cowboy,” you ordered again, shuddering breaths leaving him in an instant.
Now you were going to ruin him.
Fully.
Completely.
And Steve couldn’t be more infatuated. You were truly his demise.
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fics#steve harrington smut#steve harrington imagines#cowboy!steve harrington
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Dark/Yan Aemond HCs
ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: DARK CONTENT, 18+ (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DON’T INTERACT), Bad English, Toxic Relationship, Implied AFAB Reader (talk about pregnancy and stuff in a part, but for the rest pretty GN), Jealousy, Manipulation, Breeding Kink a bit, OOC?, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ My blog contains dark content, be careful when interacting/following! ➳ Characters: Aemond Targaryen
⤠ I'd do anything for you, Mrs. Highness (Aemond) ⤟ Masterlist (soon!) ⤠ None ⤟
hello hotd fandom... pls be nice to me since this is my first time posting smth about this fandom hndhhd and I'm also very insecure about my writing rn, anyway... i wrote this mostly for myself so I'm sorry LMAO
He's so possessive and protective of you. To the point where you can't go anywhere without guards who are loyal to him, due to his paranoia. Aemond would prefer to be your guard all the time, but alas he is unfortunately a very busy man so he has to trust the guards
When you are forced to do parties or appear in public Aemond is always around you or watching you, his eye never really leaves your figure. He always has his hands over you either on your lower back, guiding you where he wants, or on your waist. To remind you who you belong to.
Heleana and Alicent are the only one who he lets be around you when he is gone to keep you company, his brother Aegon? AH. No. Maybe Daeron, but Aegon absolutely not. Why would you want to spend time with a drunken fool?
In truth he is insanely jealous about everything and everyone, including his own family. He trusts his sister and mother to not pry too much into your relationship, and in fact his mother is more of an enabler for him. She is just so glad her son finally found someone he loves and cares about, so that he isn't alone anymore. How could she deny him such happiness?
Will try to get the two of you married instant. As soon as he saw you Aemond knew he had to marry you, it doesn't matter if you are highborn or not to him. Much to his mother and grandsire's displeasure of course
Once you are married of course he's gonna make you pregnant if possible. You wouldn't try to get away from him with a child on its way no? When he has endless ways of helping you with a babe, both during the pregnancy, the birth, and the years to come. Why have it the hard way when you can live a life of luxury?
Talking about a life of luxury, Aemond will give you anything you might need and more to keep you compliant. However, some things are not negotiable like for example what you wear: its either green or sapphire blue, no other clothes are tolerated for him. If you want to be more transgressive you can wear something outside of that, though the consequences...
He's so manipulative and wouldn't care to bring the situation in his favour, and would absolutely use your own emotion against you. "If you are hurt imagine how I feel" and stuff like that is often said when you two are fighting often over nothing, if not directly about Aemond's way of treating you.
You think it's unfair, Aemond thinks you don't understand how he feels. There is a war coming and he won't always be there protecting you since he will be on the battlefield. Its only fair that he fears for your safety, no? What kind of husband would he be otherwise?
This work belongs to @/sapphireis, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite or share on tiktok without my permission. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged♡
#hotd#aemond targaryen#yandere hotd#yandere aemond targaryen#yandere house of the dragon#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#dark aemond targaryen#hotd x reader#hotd x you#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon#house of the dragon x reader#yandere aemond x reader#dark aemond#dark aemond x reader#🌺 ── my.writing#❀ dead dove do not eat
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It’s where you get all the excitement or hear about people’s days or how that post affected them or how they chose to organise it. When I make something I always read the tags. I am obsessed with the tags. The silence is oppressive. The tags are my friends.
Love is stored in the tags
#tbh thank you to everyone who takes time out to leave a nice comment or tag#my absolute favourite thing about being on here and really the main thing that makes it not feel incredibly lonely#I always try to leave tags when I reblog#even if it’s something short#I hope it makes people feel a little happier sometimes#like hey fellow creature I saw your thing. I liked it.#we’re in this together
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:)
Page 7/?
First | Previous | Next
reblogs are appreciated as always! also thank you to everyone who leaves nice replies/comments/tags, they REALLY make my day whenever i see them ;u;
#hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel sera#fanart#hazbin hotel fanart#comic#hazbin hotel comic#rays art#made an edit to the dialouge b/c i think the impact of one of the lines didnt come across as well as i meant it to
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I'm right here! (Oscar Piastri)
People seem to forget you're dating Oscar
Note: english is not my first language. Another Oscar piece 🫶
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Cw: jealous themes
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
"Do you think this will translate as well on the track though?", Phil, the head of the engineering department, asked as you showed him the latest set of data.
"Even with the interval we've set for changes, these numbers show it could improve performance, especially in race pace", you pointed to the calculations on the side.
"We would only have it for Miami, though", he reasoned, "we don't have enough time to get this done for Shanghai and I don't think it would be wise to test this in a track we haven't raced in five years", Amelia argued as you nodded in agreement, "but it looks promising - good job, Y/N", she patted your back.
"Would you feel comfortable talking about it in the meeting with Zak, Andrea and the mechanics? You have been the one working the most with this, makes sense for you to be the one taking point. Lando and Oscar should join you as well - I think they're doing something on the Sim", William mused.
"Absolutely! Yes, Oscar said he was driving a new set up and strategy Tom also wants to discuss in the meeting", you offered with a smile.
"Having insider information makes this easier - I don't have to check every single e-mail and wonder about things, especially Oscar's schedule", Amelia chuckled, rubbing your shoulder before she got up.
As everyone gathered in the meeting room, you set your laptop up so the latest data would be seen by everyone as you spoke about the changes, "we don't think nor expect this will be ready for China, but we're hoping to have the new package in Miami already - gives us enough time to work on it and the track there is ideal for us to have an idea of how this could play out for the rest of the season", you concluded.
"I agree - I think China will be damage control racing and we're accepting it as it goes", Andrea stated.
"We just need to get going with these then and also get the guys to try it out on the- Oh! Speaking of the devil", Zak chuckled as Oscar and Lando stepped inside the meeting room.
"So that's that, I think - thank you for all your work and let's hope we can bring some points next weekend", the British driver said before everyone scattered out.
Closing your laptop and getting your tablet, you held them against your torso so you could go and set them back to your station before lunch. You didn't make it very far as Oscar stood just outside the room, his hand snaking up your back carefully as he didn't want to startle you.
"Good morning, love", he smiled, kissing your cheek and walking with you.
"Morning, Osc", you kissed his cheek back, "how was training?", you wondered.
"Same old - went for a run this time, though, it was nice enough outside", your boyfriend offered as you reached your desk, tidying it a little bit before leaving to get some lunch, walking hand in hand.
You didn't expect to fall for a driver, especially after the relationship you had with Lando. You behaved like siblings, often pranking eachother, and it had helped you grow more confident around him and the senior staff when you felt you were all but a small intern. Over the years, you grew more comfortable as your ideas and pitches would get considered and tested, finally feeling like your place was well earned and that at the right time, the development would come to bring McLaren to the top where it belonged.
When Oscar joined the team, however, you didn't expect to feel the way you felt about the Australian driver. He was handsome, very shy and very kind and thoughtful as he sat all through the meetings as you explained the changes. Jeopardising your career was something you didn't want to do, but after some not so careful touches and glances, the team assured you it wouldn't be an issue in case you and Oscar were to pursue a relationship together.
"Here's my favourite team-mate! And she brought Oscar with her!", Lando joked as you sat at the same table as him.
Swatting his neck playfully, you sat down next to him so you could face Oscar as he put his tray down, "I will revoke new updates package from you and you'll be stuck in the midfield", you taunted before you started eating.
"Do you want to spend the night at my place? I need to sort a few things out still this afternoon, but I'm hoping I can leave on time today", you squinted your eyes.
"What do you mean on time?", Lando quirked an eyebrow.
"Yesterday, she got so caught up in the calculations, I barely got a text out of her when I asked her if she wanted to have dinner with me", Oscar chuckled as you held hands on top of the table, playing with his fingers, "what was it you texted me? 'I'm having a breakthrough' I think it was", your boyfriend offered.
"I did, though! Amelia checked it over and we might be onto something - I have to go to Race Base this afternoon so they can check them out", you shrugged your shoulders."We're spending the whole afternoon in the sim", Oscar checked with you, "when you get off, then we can leave together - how does that sound?".
Coming back to your place after you stopped by the supermarket, you set the bag on the counter and pulled out all of the ingredients you bought to make sure the dinner would be suitable and appropriate to Oscar's plan.
"I haven't had a proper cuddle today", Oscar pulled you to him, beggining to litter kisses on your forehead all the way to your cheeks and jaw, "I can't ever do this at the center", he mumbled against your neck, tickling you.
"We could, just where there are no other team members", you giggled before cupping his cheeks, "which happens to be nowhere most of the time", before you kissed his lips.
"I'm going to start working on the chicken", Oscar said after you stole a few kisses, "are you going to be in the Center for the race?".
"No, I'm travelling with the team", you smiled as you took the fresh pasta out of the bag, "which means we can spend more time together - and people will actually see us together", you mumbled the last part.
"People know we're together, love", he smiled, cutting up the last bit of garlic and tossing it in the pan.
"Sometimes it doesn't seem like it - they didn't see me in Jeddah and the rumours flew out of control", you wiped your hands on the kitchen towell before hugging Oscar's back, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.
"You know how the media works - they see the smallest hint to something they want to see and then they're there", he offered, taking one of his hands to squeeze your hip, "you're the one here, aren't you?", he tsked.
.
"Where are you going?", Oscar asked as he saw you grab a tablet and push the chair back under the table, "I thought we could have some time together now".
"The stewards picked out eight cars at random to get checked over a few components - Mike and Barry are waiting for me", you offered, pecking his lips quickly, "hopefully they're just not messing around with our schedule because everything is supposed to be how it is!", you smiled before you started to walk out.
"I'll go with you, then", your boyfriend assured, "can't have you go to the wolves on your own when you can have company, beautiful".
Oscar walked up to the building with you, kissing your temple before you stepped inside, "I left some data from the sprint for you to look at, and tell Lando I also left a file for him with his tire deg - I told Will to do it, but he might forget!", you alerted before letting him go.
Knowing how long it would take, he went back to the McLaren garage, stopping whenever fans snapped a couple of pictures or autographs.
By the time you were back in the hotel room after the sprint and qualifying, Oscar went to the bathroom so he could have a shower, leaving you to lay on the bed and scroll through social media.
You looked at the photos the media team had posted, along with the stories where you could spot yourself in the background and spotted a few comments as you flicked through the carrousel of pictures, the comments under it weren't something you hadn't seen before.
Hear me out, Oscar and Elaine are the perfect match
I know, right? 😭 honestly, they need to get together! They would be so cute together
She's so polite and put together, but I get rhe vibe that she's really shy too, they would be perfect for eachother
Are we forgetting Y/N? aka Oscar's girlfriend
I still can't believe the people at the top have let their engineer date a driver
Y/N's way too out there, I call PR relationship
She couldn't even build a great car, I'm not sure why you would defend her
She was literally the reason the car and the turnaround last year and we started getting podiums?
These have been the best 12 months in terms of development, what are you on about? Just because she's with Oscar, you can't dig at her like that
The last few comments don't come up too often, but you had to admit it was nice when they did even if they did nothing to the way you felt.
The green eyed monster took over more times that you'd like. You work with numbers, probabilities and direct correlations, so it was hard to miss the reason behind how you were feeling.
"Why are you looking at your phone like that? You promised you wouldn't work once we got back to the room", Oscar warned, using the towell to dry his hair before he looked at you again.
"I'm not working", you mumbled, locking the phone and setting it on your stomach, pondering whether or not you should talk to Oscar about this.
"That long silence tells me that there is something bothering you", Oscar began, "I'm not saying you have to talk about it right now - I won't force you to -, but I'm here for you when you want to do it", he offered earnestly.
"I'm jealous of you and Elaine", you stated, earning a quirked eyebrow from your boyfriend.
"Me and Elaine? The communications' intern?", he looked for some clarification.
"Yes!", you answered loudly.
"We don't - I don't even spend that much time with her, what do you mean?", Oscar asked.
"I know you don't, but people online seem to think you should! First, it was that actress that McLaren invited for Abu Dhabi - the weekend where Natalie and Naomi kept approaching us because they wanted to chat and there was actual visual proof we were together after all the rumours -, now they're saying how you should go out with Elaine!", you admitted, "they're all saying you really should have someone and that she should be the one to go, that she has all the qualities you should look for and I-", you took a big breath in, "I'm literally over there, every single day of the races - in the garage, sometimes in the pitwall!", you stated, "I barely do any races from the Center anymore, so it's not like people forgot that I exist!".
"Love, I'd never do that to you - you're the only person I care about like that", Oscar replied instantly.
"I know you don't, but it hurts to see", you admitted, "comments people make about my boyfriend and how he really should start dating someone when our relationship is public - I'm there, I see them, they see me!", you let a tear fall down your cheek, "there's only so much I can do to make it obvious, Osc!".
Oscar sat down next to you on the bed, throwing the towell on the floor for the moment so he could pull you to face him.
"Y/N, I didn't know it was bothering you so much, I don't even notice all of that", your boyfriend craddled your face in his hands, thumbs wiping the tears that continued to fall and looking into your eyes.
"I never told you and I know you don't read all of the comments", you reasoned, "I just thought it would stop at some point! Everyone keeps saying that you should have someone and I want them to think I'm that someone - because I am!", you said bitterly.
"Is there something you'd like me to do? That would make you feel better about it?", Oscar combed your bangs away and behind your ears.
"What can we do anyway? Have you walk around with a t-shirt that says "I have a girlfriend - Y/N, the engineer"?", you scoffed.
"I will do that if you think it will help - throw in a headband with "Y/N's boyfriend" too if it helps!", he tried to pry a smile out of you.
"Don't be silly", you playfully shoved his chest before holding his hands in yours, "I honestly have no idea what to do, but I know I want it to stop without putting our jobs on the line", you pouted.
"Maybe an Instagram post from us then? Something chilled but serious enough so anyone can get the hint - and I wouldn't mind arriving into the paddock with you in the morning", your boyfriend suggested.
"Oscar, I have to be there way earlier than you need to", you argued.
"Then I'll be there earlier, I'll have breakfast there with you and we'll spend more time together in front of everyone - as much as you feel comfortable with", Oscar offered you an assuring smile, "I don't want anyone else the way I want you, I don't love anyone the way I love you, Y/N".
Smiling at the honesty and safety he was transmitting you, you kissed his lips, starting with small pecks before one last long kiss, letting your foreheads touch as you pulled away, "thank you, Osc, I love you".
The next morning, reporters were surprised when they saw the McLaren driver show up in the paddock so early, his hand laced in yours as they asked a couple of questions.
"My girlfriend had to come in earlier, so I thought I'd join her and see a little bit of the preparations", Oscar replied before you continued to walk to the McLaren hospitality.
"Is it bring your boyfriend to work day?", Anna asked after her usual morning greeting.
"He's always with me at work though", you squinted before giggling, "but I really need people to know he's mine and that I'm here!", you half joked.
#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri fic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fluff
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I Want It All: Part 3
Part 1, Part 2
Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader
Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Soft!Astarion, Allusion to Astarion's Past (Sexual Assult/Dissociation)
Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?
A/N: Holy shit! It's done! Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and reblogged and just...everything. I cannot tell you how much it means to be to know this story has resonated with so many people. I don't have any plans to continue this as a larger story (I still haven't played the game); however, if anyone would like to send requests for small one-shots or headcanons involving Astarion and this Asexual!Tav, feel free to send me an ask.
Also, sorry if I didn't tag you. There were a lot of request, so I stuck to those who asked on the previous chapter.
And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!!
Word Count: 5.2K
You didn’t sleep that night, but what else did you expect?
For hours you simply lay in the dark, staring at the window. The patter of rain was the only source of sound besides your own breathing. Even that small comfort didn’t last as the storm passed leaving behind cloud covered silence.
No tears came to you. What had you to grieve over? Everything you felt had been a product of your imagination. You knew that.
Still, it ached. There was a throbbing in your throat you couldn’t swallow down and a constant pressure behind your eyes. You almost wished you would cry, just to get it out of your system. If you could have a nice little breakdown, there was a chance you could get over this. It would be the slap in the face you needed to accept reality. Maybe then you’d stop doing this to yourself.
All the same, it stayed there, pressing heavy on your chest until the sun teased the edges of the clouds beaconing morning.
You groaned, burying your face into the pillow. You couldn’t lie and wallow the rest of the day. You had things to do, places to be, worms to destroy. The sooner you had something else to occupy your thoughts the better.
With an effort you pulled yourself out of bed and slowly made your way to the dining room.
You were a bit surprised to see everybody already up. Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Gale were already seated with plates of half eaten food in front of them. Two seats were still empty, settings ready and untouched. A quick look around confirmed the rest, Astarion had yet to make an appearance.
“Morning everyone,” you said, trying your best to be cheerful as you sat yourself between Gale and Wyll.
You could feel all their eyes on you, no doubt noticing the dark circles under yours.
“Morning,” Gale greeted. “I trust you slept well.”
He let out a small yelp of pain.
You looked up to catch him glaring at Shadowheart as she shot him a disapproving look.
You frowned. Did she just kick him?
“I mean, ah, did you lie comfortably?” he amended.
“Seriously?” Karlach questioned.
You swore you could feel the heat of Gale’s blush, as he grumbled into his toast. “Damn it, you know what I mean.”
“Do I?” you asked.
“We just hoped you spent the rest of the night…pleasantly,” Wyll tried, and ultimately failed.
Your stomach flipped, as harsh, dreadful realization washed over you. Yes, of course they would.
“You don’t look well,” Lae’zel noted. “After all his boasting, I had thought Astarion would leave his partners more satisfied.”
You didn’t say anything, deciding to take a bite of egg as an excuse. Now would be a great time for the ground to open and swallow you into the hells. Gods knew it would be an improvement.
“She’s right,” Shadowheart said, sounding a little annoyed to admit it. “You do look tired and not the good kind. Did something happen?”
“Did he hurt you,” Wyll said, his brow furrowing in sudden concern.
“What?! No!” you said quickly. “Nothing happened.”
“How’d you mean nothing happened?” Karlach put in. “We all saw what we saw. How could anyone turn down all of that?”
Fresh embarrassment washed over you, making you wish you could erase the last twenty-four hours and crawl into the nearest, deepest hole. You had spent the whole night worried about what Astarion would make of your vision, you had all but forgotten you had shared that part of yourself with all of your companions. Of course they would have their own interpretations.
“It wasn’t like that.”
A quick look around the table gave away the doubtful thoughts of all.
You took a deep breath, willing yourself to calm. They weren’t going to believe you if you were emotional about this.
“Look, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. As I said, nothing happened. We talked, and it became clear that we just want different things. That’s the beginning and the end of it. Now are we done or are you all going to keep chattering on like a bunch of fishwives?”
The silence at the table was palpable as everyone exchanged looks.
Alright, maybe being calm wasn't a realistic expectation, but you hadn’t lied. Sure, there were some details you neglected to share, but that really was the long and the short of it. He hadn’t done anything wrong and neither had you. It just didn’t work out.
The plain truth of it settled in your heart carving out a hollow space for it to lay in.
Gale was the first to act, clearing his throat. “Fair enough, the matter is closed. Please, accept our apology. With such an intimate group as ours, it’s sometimes easy to forget that one’s personal matters can be well and truly personal.”
He looked at the rest of the group, each nodding in agreement to various degrees of reluctancy.
“Just for the record though, if you need someone to knock some sense into that pretty boy’s head, you just need to ask,” Karlach offered.
Despite yourself, you had to smile. “I’ll think about it.”
You then turned to Gale, who met you with kind eyes and a comforting smile. You let yourself be warmed by it, even if you still felt a little guilty for snapping. He really did understand. It was easy for heartbreak to recognize heartbreak.
“Thank you,” you murmured.
To your surprise, his first instinct wasn’t to reach for words, but rather your hand as he gave your fingers a gentle squeeze.
“Anytime.”
“Good morning everyone. Gossiping without me?”
You whipped your head around to find Astarion standing near the head of the table, a sardonic smile on his lips and a hard glare in his eyes. No doubt he had heard everything.
Everybody shifted in their seats, glancing between you and Astarion. You averted your gaze, focusing hard on the table in front of you.
Gale’s hand still rested over yours. Whatever comfort it had given you, faded as something akin to panic flooded your veins. In the next second, you rose from your chair, scraping it hard against the floor in your hurry.
“I’ve still got some packing to do,” you said. “Be back down in a few.”
Coward’s way out? Yes, but after the night you had, you figured you were entitled to it.
Keeping your head down, you slipped past Astarion, feeling him watch you as you made your way back up the stairs.
If you had lingered a moment, you might have caught the flash of hurt in his eyes. You might have noticed how his clothes were more rumpled than usual. You might even have seen his hand twitch with the instinct to reach for yours. But you didn’t see, and anything that might have happened disappeared in a brush of air.
-----------------------
The next several days carried on in much the same way. Not as torturous as that first morning, but still a drudge of avoidance and awkward silences.
In your defense, Astarion seemed just as keen to keep his distance. Where he used to be your preverbal shadow, filling the hours of travel with idle teasing and conversation, now he kept to the back, his mouth decidedly shut.
The others caught on and seemed determined to make up the difference. Karlach, Shadowheart and Wyll especially made a point to walk alongside you, telling stories and jokes in an attempt to make you smile.
You did your best. They meant well, but in some ways they only served to emphasize the absence of another.
Gale, on the other hand, had the foresight to try a different approach. He made it clear he didn’t expect you to talk, but always made sure you had the best spot by the fire and a little extra of whatever he made for the camp. You had to wonder if Tara had provided a similar comfort to him after Mystra. It was obvious he had the practice.
Even Lae’zel offered to help you train it off, something about how your, “objectively weak body had left the rest of you vulnerable to attack”. A part of you felt the insult, but the gesture was appreciated.
Honestly, all of this care was starting to make you feel guilty. None of them were giving Astarion the same courtesy. He wasn’t being shunted exactly, but the message was loud and clear; they were on your side.
This was met by him taking a step back from the late night conversations. His interactions with the others were kept short and lacked his usual humorous flare. He took his shifts on watch alone and he spent even more time either roaming the forest or in his tent.
The only person he consistently spoke to was Gale, which should have raised some alarm bells on their own, but you never caught what they were discussing. All you knew was Astarion never appeared especially pleased while Gale gave a look of someone begging the gods for patience.
All of this was your fault. You just wanted things to go back to normal. Even if you couldn’t be with Astarion the way you imagined, you still valued his friendship. If this kept up, there was a chance he might decide to leave all together. An olive branch was needed, something to signal you didn’t hold a grudge or expect anything more.
The answer came to you one early evening as you took note of his haggard looks and less than graceful steps out of camp. He hadn’t fed on you in a week and there was only so much deer and boar could do.
You considered simply offering up your neck, but that felt too forward. Besides, you weren’t sure if you were ready to have him that close. The only other solution you could think of was to bleed yourself somehow.
This proved more difficult than you first imagined. Astarion seemed to have an instinct for where to bite, balancing enough blood for himself without causing any permanent damage. You couldn’t boast the same. It took more than one cut to fill an empty goblet with what you hoped to be the right amount of blood. You’d ask Shadowheart to heal you properly later. Hopefully she’d accept a poorly executed knife trick as an excuse.
You wrapped your wrist as best you could and, watching to make sure the others weren’t looking, slipped into Astarion’s tent.
You were immediately hit with the scent of bergamot, rosemary, and aged brandy. A sense of calm washed over you at the familiar combination, settling comfortably in your lungs as you took in the space.
A single candle remained lit, allowing just enough light for you to appreciate the rich purple and red fabrics lining the walls as well as the sheer number of pillows littering the floor. How he managed to pack so many was a mystery you doubt you would ever solve. The whole set up was down right ornate, but considering this was Astarion you were talking about, you shouldn’t have been surprised.
It was only then you realized you’d never been inside before. He’d invited you more than once, but you’d always turned him down preferring to keep your feeding session in the open air. You had known, even then, any closer would give the wrong impression; all for naught it seemed.
You pushed the thought aside, pulling your attention back to the matter at hand. There had to be some place you could put the goblet where he wouldn’t knock it over. Why did he have to keep a side table outside the tent?
A shuffle came from just outside. Focusing your ears, you caught the tread of boots on grass transition to the nearly silent carpet just outside the tent flap. You turned using those handful of extra seconds to school your features into something passively innocent as Astarion ducked inside.
His whole body froze, his arm holding the fabric above his head as his eyes went wide. For a long moment, neither of you said anything.
You took advantage of his momentary shock to examine his appearance more closely. He looked…well, tired and more than a little confused. No blood marked his shirt or his lips. His pants appeared to have taken a tear or two from a bramble bush. Even his hair looked just a bit disheveled in a way so unlike himself.
“No luck hunting?” you said, unable to keep the concern out of your voice.
He stared, as if your words were coming from somewhere far away and required extra time to reach his ears.
“I’ve had better,” he finally said.
You nodded in understanding, shifting awkwardly as your eyes went to the goblet in your hands.
“Here,” you offered. “No offense, but you look like you could use it.”
He gave a tight smile. “I’d say no offense taken, but this is me we’re talking about.” All the same, he took the cup, sniffing it cautiously. He blinked hard, his brows furrowing as he stuck his nose further into the cup and took a deep whiff.
“Is this yours?” he asked.
You shrugged, holding up your bandaged wrist. “Whose else would it be?”
His mouth parted slightly as if to say something before closing it again.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, his tone oddly serious.
“I know,” you assured. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Once again, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead released a breath of a laugh, allowing whatever tension he had formed in those last few seconds to fall from his shoulders.
“I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but it seems I can’t help it with you.”
Before you could ask him what exactly he meant, he raised the goblet to his lips and drank.
The effect was instantaneous. Your blood met his tongue and any control he had slipped away. His pupils dilated to those of a predator as he guzzled the whole thing down in two deep swallows. He let out a gasp of air before returning to the cup, licking the sides so not to waste a drop. A low hum of bliss came from deep in his chest as he savored the rest, allowing his fingers to scrap the bottom before bringing it back to his mouth.
The sight should have left you horrified, but in truth, it was encouraging. Things would be different, but you could at least provide him this.
“Do you need more?” you asked.
This time his laugh was loud and genuine as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before licking the remains; yet another thing you found inexplicably endearing. He really was just a big cat sometimes.
“Dangerous thing to offer me in this state, darling,” he said. “Luckily for you, I found a nice burrow of rabbits yesterday.”
Once satisfied there was truly nothing left, he set the goblet down on the ground before turning his attention to your wrist.
“Let me see,” he said, reaching out a hand.
“It’s fine,” you promised. “I’ll get Shadowheart to look at it later.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, give it here.”
Knowing there was no fighting him, you relented, allowing him to unwrap the bandages.
He visibly winced as he examined the litter of harsh scratches along your skin. “What did you use? A rusty spoon?”
“I had trouble finding a good vein,” you said, feeling the need to defend yourself. You hadn’t thought it looked that bad.
“Oh is that all? And here I thought you’d lost an argument with a displacer beast.”
You pressed your lips into an annoyed line, but Astarion was already digging around his pack, coming back with a salve and potion of healing.
“Drink this.”
You shook your head, ignoring the pleasant little flutter in your chest at the gesture. “I told you, I’ll just ask Shadowheart.”
“Oh this isn’t just for you,” he said, dryly. “Do you think I want her believing you’d willingly butcher yourself just to give me a proper meal? Neither of us would hear the end of it.”
A small flush of embarrassment worked up your neck. He was right, of course. The party really hadn’t been subtle in their disapproval. It was the reason you had tried for discretion.
Without further protest you accepted the potion.
This seemed to appease him as he quickly got to work on applying the salve.
He had bought it not long after you had come to your little feeding arrangement. It helped to sooth small cuts and bruises while minimizing the threat of scars. He had initially offered to provide…other services to relieve the pain, but you had declined. This was the compromise. You’d offered to do it yourself, but he insisted, claiming it was the least he could do. In truth, it was all very…transactional.
This felt different. The hesitation he so often held, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, was gone. His touch was gentle, his expression focused and his body oddly relaxed. It didn’t feel like an obligation, but an act of kindness, one he was more than willing to give.
Any nerves that remained slipped away. You could find a way to live with this. Certainly it was more than others had given you in the past.
Once he was done, he pulled fresh bandages from his bag and began redressing your wounds with decidedly more precision than you had.
“I am glad you’re here,” he said, breaking the silence. “I was hoping we could talk.”
A sharp sting of anxiety pressed itself into your skin.
“Oh?”
He nodded, tying off the bandage. “I think it’s important.”
You swallowed. The instinct to run pulled at your feet, but you managed to keep it in check. You owed him that much.
“Well, I’m here so…let’s talk.”
He breathed out an audible sigh of relief, raising his hands up as he took a small step back.
“Just stand there a moment. Don’t move.”
He spun around, rummaging through various bags before letting out a cry of triumph. He stepped back holding what looked to be a violin string glowing with magical golden light.
Your head tilted to the side as your eyes narrowed. “Is that…?”
“Part of the violin, yes,” he admitted. “Bit of a story. Short version, Gale was able to extract one of the strings. It shouldn’t cause any permanent damage to the instrument, as far as I know.”
You raised a doubtful eyebrow. “And Gale just let you pluck this from his tent did he?”
Astarion shifted uncomfortably. “Not exactly. I, ah, may have had some trouble understanding how it worked and…inquired as to his assistance.”
“You asked Gale for help?” you asked, astonished.
“Don’t make me relive the experience,” he lamented. “He told me the strings themselves have different magical properties in order to create the effect you demonstrated the other night. Apparently this one alone compels people to tell the truth.”
He then took the string and carefully wrapped it around his wrist before handing the other half to you.
Your eyes widened, glancing between him and the offered cord. “What are you doing?”
“Leveling the playing field,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
You shook your head, taking a step back. “You don’t have to do that.”
His lips curved into a self deprecating smile. “I think I do though. I haven’t been honest with you and…while that’s not exactly unique to you, the regret I have is. So you see, it really is a selfish action. If I’m to be free of this, I need to know for certain you understand that what I say next is the truth…all of it.”
Your mouth opened to protest, but the words caught in your throat. The expression on his face was one you had never seen before. While he did his best to hide under his usual indifferent airs, his eyes gave him away. You’d never seen them so open and unsure.
Slowly, you took the other end, feeling a familiar tingle spread through your fingers.
“Alright,” you said, cautiously. “What’s your favorite color?”
Flashes of red shot across your vision, moonlit skies and a pair of eyes you only just caught to be your own before the image settled on something else entirely.
“Pink,” Astarion blurted.
Your eyebrows shot up as the start of a delighted smile spread across your face.
“And orange,” he amended quickly, “and dark blue and…honestly just the color of the sky at sunrise.” He pouted as if annoyed at the words that escaped his lips, but he shook it off. “Alright, you had your little test run. Give me something harder.”
You considered a moment. It was very tempting to continue on with some more embarrassing questions, but that wasn’t the purpose of all of this. Best to start at the beginning.
“What did you think of me when we first met?” you asked.
He grimaced, guilt evident not just through his averted gaze but the tug of the string between you. “You were a target,” he admitted. “At best a convenient meat shield. You were just so…open, ready to trust. Manipulating you would be easy.”
You took a deep breath, ignoring the stab of pain between your ribs. You should have expected as much. He wasn’t exactly subtle.
“And that’s what you were trying to do the other night, manipulate me?”
“Yes.”
Another stab of guilt, a flash of your own back walking out of a candle lit room as a hand that was not your own reached hopelessly outward.
Your actual jaw clenched. “I don’t need your pity.”
“It’s not pity.”
“Then what?!” you snapped. “Hells bells Astarion, do you even like me?”
“You drive me to acts of insanity,” he said indignantly, raising up the glowing cord around his wrist as proof. “Do you think I’d willing subject myself to days of Gale’s passive aggressive commentary on my personal life for just anyone? Of course I like you. Gods below!”
You stared, unable to deny the waves of exasperation mixed with the sound of your own laughter as heard through another’s ears. Something warm and unfamiliar bloomed in the chest of the body opposite you making your mind spin, as you tried to re-establish the divide.
“Why did you ask me to come to you?” you asked. “What were you hoping to gain?”
Astarion took a deep breath. It was only then you noticed how tightly he was holding the chord linking you.
“I was hoping to get back on track,” he said, slowly. “I had a plan when we met. A nice simple plan. Seduce you, bed you, manipulate your emotions so you’d never turn on me. It was easy…instinctive.”
He met your eyes and for the first time, you felt him fight against the images threatening to breach the gap between you. You caught the barest flashes, memories of half forgotten faces passing by one after another. Shame and vile brushed the edges of your mind, and quickly faded as Astarion regained control.
“But, you seemed immune to my attempts,” he continued. “I could tell you enjoyed my attentions, but you never asked for more. My simple plan that had worked on countless targets, couldn’t get off the ground. And yet, you still gave me blood, protection…trust. I couldn’t understand it. I found myself wanting to know more, to know you. To anticipate what you would ultimately ask in exchange. And then that night, you showed me exactly what it was you desired.”
Something slipped through. You saw yourself in the center of the tavern with darkness surrounding you. A rise of fear entered your heart as you heard your name called from familiar lips. And then, the world shifted, light came back into the world and it was…beautiful.
“I thought I finally understood you,” he said. “A poor repressed urchin who had been hurt one too many times. All that was required was a more gentle touch. I could provide that. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
He paused, his expression softening. “And then you had to do the most inconsiderate thing and surprise me all over again: you asked for my heart, in exchange for yours. I should have been elated. It meant my plan had worked, not the way I intended, but you had fallen for it…for me. The trouble was, I hadn’t accounted for the possibility that I would fall for you.”
You stared, unable to say anything as a well of emotion threatened to burst from you. It was as if someone pulled a bow across your chest, creating a resonating sound that moved in harmony with your very soul.
It was true, all of it.
By some miracle, you wrestled back control over your lungs and tongue.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t know how,” he admitted. “Even if I had, would you have believed me?”
You averted your gaze. It was answer enough.
“It’s alright,” he said, offering a wry smile. “Smart really. I wouldn’t have believed me either.”
You nodded in appreciation, your mind still reeling from everything he had just confessed.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
You frowned, unable to shake a question that had been stirring for some time.
“Do you even want to have sex with me?”
His eyebrows shot into his hairline, his mouth falling open. “I’m standing here baring my soul to you and that’s what you ask?”
“You asked me what I was thinking,” you defended. “Besides, it’s a relevant question.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but let it go just as quickly with a huff.
“Well?” you prompted.
He made a series of non-commital noises, his mouth half forming words before being wrenched in another direction. The chord between you glowed brighter, twisting just a little deeper into his skin.
“I…don’t really know,” he said, slightly stilted, as if surprised by his own answer. “To be clear, I do find you physically enticing. In that aspect at least, I’d hardly qualify bedding you a chore, but... I spent two centuries using lust and desire to lure people back to him. In that time I developed the habit of taking myself out of my body, looking at it as if it were happening to somebody else. Even in those rare times it could be pleasurable, I still walked away feeling nothing but disgust and loathing. I don’t want those feelings associated with you. At the same time, I can’t help thinking that if we were together, it would be different. But, don’t take that to mean I expect it. Like I said, I don’t even know if I want it. Honestly, before you said it, I didn’t know saying no was an option.”
You took all of that in, your heart clenching as the full weight of what Cazador did to him settled on your mind. Red filed your vision, the sympathetic ache replaced with a rush of fury. He was a dead man. One way or another, you would see Cazador bloodied by the end of all of this. But as quickly as it had come you let the emotion pass. This wasn’t about him. You wouldn’t let him intrude any more on this moment.
“What do you want from me then?” you asked, softly.
To your relief, something familiar and teasing flashed across his face.
“I thought I’d made that obvious.”
With his free hand, he cupped your cheek allowing his thumb to lightly caress your skin. His scarlet eyes burned not with lust, but something warmer and just as desperate.
“You showed me the chorus of your heart. How could anyone look upon that and not desire it? The trouble is, the price you asked. I…I don’t know how to pay it. I don’t know how to be with someone that way, but I’m willing to learn. I want it all. I want you to have it all.”
The connection between you burned hot in your hand, but you couldn’t let it go. It felt so warm, so real. It filled every empty part of you to the point of bursting and still you wanted more. You were insatiable.
Astarion looked just as lost as you, his eyes glazed over with too many emotions for you to name. His body began to tremble. It was becoming too much.
In an instant you pulled his hand away, unwrapping the chord from around his wrist and tossing it aside.
He took a sudden deep breath as if coming up for air after being submerged in deep water.
“Shit,” he cursed, gulping for air. Closing his eyes, he ran a hand down his face as he tried to calm.
Your eyes widened as you caught the angry marks left behind on his wrist.
“Are you alright?”
He blinked hard as if clearing spots from his vision. “I’m fine. Wasn’t expecting that is all.” He turned his focus to you with a bewildered expression. “Does it always feel like that?”
“That’s admittedly a first for me,” you confessed. You reached out your hand, glancing at his injury. “Let me see.”
He followed your gaze frowning, as if surprised to note the welts forming on his wrist. Still he stepped closer allowing you to examine them without protest.
“Does it hurt?” you asked.
He shook his head. “Sort of numb, honestly, tingly.”
You nodded, swallowing hard to keep the rise of guilt and fear at bay. It didn’t help.
“I’m sorry,” you said, quickly.
He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t think a little thing like this is going to scare me off. I meant what I said. I intend to give you your fill.”
“You don’t have to give it all at once,” you promised. “I can be patient when it counts.”
A sly smile turned at his lips. “I almost hope you won’t. You’re not the only one who's starving.”
Heat spread up your neck, something Astarion undoubtedly caught as he gave a low laugh.
“Well, now that we’ve cleared the air, what happens next?” he asked.
“I’m…not sure,” you admitted. “Nobody else has ever given me the chance to figure that out.”
He nodded slowly, before taking a small step back. His head tilted as if to examine you from every angle. A question started to form on your tongue just as the start of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He suddenly straightened before placing a hand on his chest and regarded you with a deep bow.
You grinned, matching him with a curtsy of your own.
He then offered his hand, which you easily took before he pulled you just a little closer. Your other hand found his shoulder while his pressed lightly on your waist. And then you did what was only natural. You danced.
It wasn’t anything elaborate. There was no fire or sparks of magic. You simply moved together to a song of your own imagination. It stirred in your chest, the barest pluck of a melody, but it was yours and his; the promise of a symphony to come.
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#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion bg3#astarion baldurs gate#asexual#asexual!reader#asexual!tav#bard!tav#baldur's gate iii#astarion x ace!tav#astarion x evie
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WAGH IM GONNA CRY TYSM I LOVE YOUR ART SM TOO!!!
My every waking thought is abt these fucking robots dude FUCK
Anyway. Sun wips
#sry not to reblog like right after posting but#this made me smile!!!#this goes for everyone who leaves nice tags when reblogging my stuff btw i read all of them <333#my favorites are when it's just a bunch of caps and keysmashing it makes me giggle
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