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bg-brainrot · 2 months

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More than Vampiric Charms (Astarion x Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: After some banter between Astarion and Jaheira goes too far, you (Tav) take some time to remind Astarion that he is so much more than a pair of fangs.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, Blood, Blood Drunk, blood as a coping mechanism

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted for this banter in my last poll! This was a fun one c:

Word count: ~3.2k

Walking through the streets of Baldur's Gate is always an adventure with your group– a particularly fraught adventure on this day, as Jaheira and Astarion seem hellsbent on trading barbs.

It had started out playfully enough, with a snide remark from Astarion, "Oh that building used to be a delightful little sweets shop about a hundred years ago. Though I suppose the crone would remember that, wouldn’t she?”

Jaheira, used to remarks about her age, often being the one to start them, was ready with a quick quip back, “Was that before or after your hair turned gray? With my old age, I can never remember.”

Astarion visibility bit back a remark about this being his natural hair color when you glared back at both of them. “Could we focus a bit please? You two can reminisce after we’ve seen to this latest bloody basement.”

One trail of blood, a disgusting array of corpses, and a piece of clown later and the two of them were at it again.

“Jaheira,” Astarion had started in a light tone– a clear indicator that he had no intent to focus. “Have you considered taking on the role of Dribbles the clown yourself? The makeup might help cover all those pesky wrinkles.”

The druid had snickered, appreciating the comment, and shot back, “I think you would be better suited to the role, given you are already a fool.”

That time, Karlach had interrupted, “Don’t either of you dare! No one could replace this Baldurian hero.”

“Which is exactly why we’re helping to piece him back together,” you’d confirmed with a nod. “Besides, you’re both cranky enough to make the children weep.”

“Darling!” Astarion had gasped, an offended hand on his chest. “How could you say that about me?”

You’d ignored his question, instead choosing to deposit a quick kiss on his pursed lips. A soft, effective bandaid that left the man with crossed arms and a reluctant smile.

Moments later, you were ushering the group out of the building and into the city. Insults forgotten, everyone began trudging the familiar path back to the Elfsong to clean up.

Now, along this very path, you hear Jaheira strike up a new conversation with Astarion– one that has your ears perking up, even as you continue to lead the way ahead.

“It seems that you and our leader are closer than ever,” the woman observes, a smile in her voice.

There’s a moment of silence, and you can practically see Astarion’s suspicious expression in your mind’s eye as he assesses the situation. “Yes, you could say that,” he finally replies. “What can I say? I am, after all, quite charming.”

“I am glad it is your non-vampiric charms our friend has fallen for, Astarion.” A short, thoughtful pause follows before she asks, “It is, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Astarion responds, his voice reaching a comically high pitch– one that almost makes you laugh. You want to hear this conversation more than most though, so not a sound escapes your lips. The vampire scoffs before he continues. "Is it so unbelievable that they would simply like me?"

There’s a clear hesitation as Astarion’s words hang in the air.

You wonder why Jaheira isn’t responding, what her expression must be– but before you can turn around to find out more, Astarion is speaking again.

“If you insist on prying,” he starts, clearing his throat a bit pointedly. “Perhaps you’d care to join us. And see how much we enjoy one another.”

The insinuation in his tone is almost enough to have you spinning around– teasing Karlach or Shadowheart is one thing, but Jaheira? Gods, you can feel the heat rising up your neck– “Why?” Jaheira snaps back. “Do you require some instruction on how the deed is done?”

“I’m sure even I could learn some new tricks from an old veteran such as yourself,” Astarion replies, mirth shining through in his tone.

Wait, is he actually inviting her?

You know you need to stop this conversation before it mortifies you any further. “Stop it, both of you!” you say, turning your head back, trying your best to keep a stern, not-at-all embarrassed expression on your face. “We don’t need the next installment of ‘Love at First Knife’ getting any more convoluted.”

There’s some grumbling from Astarion, an amused smile from Jaheira, and a chortle from Karlach, but otherwise your group makes it back to the Elfsong without tearing each other– or their clothes– apart.

That evening, Astarion slips away.

It’s not an unusual occurrence– some days his hunger is harder to ignore than others, on some you hadn’t found nearly enough evil to suck dry. Ultimately, he never wanted to take too much blood from you, so he chooses to forage as he has taken to calling it.

As a result, you think nothing of it at first, settling into bed after dinner with a book propped between your hands. After all, Cazador is dead, and Astarion is more than capable of taking down some of the most fearsome enemies in the city– he should take all the time he needs to himself.

But the hours pass, and Astarion has yet to return. The candles around you begin to dwindle, words begin to swim on a page you haven’t turned in quite some time, and sleep slowly but surely starts to drag your eyelids down.

It has almost claimed you when the door to your shared room at the Elfsong slams shut. You hear groans from around the room as those who were similarly drifting off to bed are shocked awake, everyone expecting yet another unwelcome visitor. You almost don’t have time to react before an armor-clad vampire lands atop of you.

You do react though, instinctively striking at the man with the spine of your book, a loud ‘thwack’ letting you know that your contact was true.

“Oof,” Astarion mutters, now fully splayed across your torso like a stretching cat. “Darling, must you be so violent?”

“Astarion?” you ask, putting down your book, shaking off the beginning throes of sleep as you realize what’s transpired. “Weapons down everyone, it’s Astarion.”

After a few affirmative grumbles from around the room, you turn your attention back to the vampire, “Are you alright? Did you get injured?”

“Mmm,” he murmurs, burying his face in your blanket, and rubbing at the spot where you’d hit him. “Nothing's the matter. Everything is perfectly dandy.”

His words slur though and something seems to be amiss. His movements are fluid, his body weight is completely and utterly relaxed onto you.

Almost as if…

“Are you… drunk?” you haven’t seen him like this since the bear he drank near the grove. When you’d asked him the question then, he’d shrugged it off– but it was certainly the closest to drunk you’d ever seen him.

“Not strictly speaking, no…” he drolls, tilting his head slightly to stare at you with one eye. His cheeks are flushed, a telltale sign of his recent feeding, and his eye is glazed over, its blissful sheen telling you all that you need to know.

“Have a good dinner, did you?” you ask, smiling down at him wearily. You can hardly fault him for indulging, especially after the couple of weeks you’ve had.

He chuckles, his one visible eye crinkling a bit. “Oh yes. A rather large bugbear. Hardly knew what bit him.”

You run a hand through Astarion’s hair, and respond, “Well done, my sweet, bloodthirsty vampire.”

Normally, such sweet words of unabashed flattery would elicit a smile, a laugh, maybe even a kiss– but tonight Astarion freezes under your touch, his eye going wide before he tucks his face back into the bedding.

“Astarion?” you ask, your previous worry about injury now promptly replaced by a worry of a much deeper hurt.

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, voice sounding distant.

You scratch at his scalp, a bit, trying to encourage him back toward you. “Love, you know you’re a terrible liar. What’s wrong?”

He gives a soft, annoyed huff– an endearing, drunken noise were it not for the fact that he seems determined not to look at you. And continue to crush you with the full weight of his body.

“Astarion,” you say again, with a bit more emphasis, shaking his head a little with your next scratch. “If nothing is truly wrong, I will wake up Karlach. You know she would love to see you in this state.” As if to punctuate your point, a snore sounds from a few beds over, where you know the barbarian slumbers.

“Please don’t,” he murmurs, finally turning around to look at you fully.

You’re surprised to see his eyebrows furrowed, his lips turned down in a truly melancholy frown– always an expressive man, it seems that Astarion’s intoxicated demeanor is twice as exaggerated. Cute, you think. But also concerning. “Love,” you whisper, running a hand along his face. “Talk to me.”

Astarion hesitates, his watery eyes wincing as he debates his next words. Those same red eyes show an unexpected amount of vulnerability– all that bugbear blood is keeping his expression open, his entire face a rosy hue. His mouth opens, closes, his body shifts, and he fumbles with the latches on his armor as he thinks. You simply lay there, playing with his curls until he’s ready.

When he finally speaks, his words take you by surprise.

“You don’t just like me because I’m a vampire… do you?”

“What?” you ask, eyebrows raising in disbelief. Surely, you misheard him.

“You know,” he continues, waving a hand about the air. “My vampiric charms. The fangs. The blood sucking. The mysterious allure?”

“Why in the nine hells would you think that?” You reach a hand out to grab his, tugging on it gently to try to get him to sit up.

Astarion’s eyes drift away from you, but he does sit up, legs draping over your stomach. “Just… because of something Jaheira said.”

Oh. The conversation you’d been eavesdropping on.

“Do you mean what she said earlier? On our way back to the Elfsong?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Well, yes,” he mutters, still not looking at you. “Though I can’t help but notice you haven’t answered my question…”

“Astarion,” you start, releasing his hand, only to place it on the slightly flushed skin of his cheek. “No, I do not only like you because you’re a vampire.” Your words are firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

His eyes meet yours again, and still you can see so much doubt, so much unmitigated fear. “Are you certain? You truly do seem to enjoy it when I bite you.”

“Well, that’s true,” you admit with a small wince. It does feel rather… good when he bites you, it would be a lie to say otherwise and, besides, you’ve told him as much before. “But that’s not why I like you, you fool.”

Astarion’s bottom lip slips into a small pout and he moves away from your hand. “You’re not very convincing, you know? Especially when you call me a fool.”

You scooch out a bit from under him, leaving your legs under his. With all of the severity in the world, you reply, “If it makes you feel better, I’m a fool too.”

“You are?” he asks, curious despite himself– easily falling for your little trap.

“A fool for you.”

The noise that escapes him is half groan, half chuckle, and his mouth pulls into a lopsided little smile that you’re not certain you would have earned were he not a bit blooddrunk. “Gods, how the hells did I fall for you?”

“Now you’re asking the right questions,” you respond with a smirk on your face. When you place a hand on his knee, the smirk turns into a small smile. “But I’m being genuine– I don’t like you because you’re a vampire. And before you ask, I don’t love you because of your vampirism either.”

He gives a small huff. “Well, Jaheira made it sound as if there wasn’t much else to care for.” An uncharacteristic admittance from him– normally he would brush off such a statement with a proud declaration of how phenomenal he is. But it seems that Jaheira’s words cut deep– and that blood has loosened his lips.

“Jaheira, despite all of her many, many years of experience–” you enjoy the full laugh that elicits. “simply doesn’t have my refined taste. There are so many reasons to like you, love. In fact, vampirism doesn’t even make the list.”

“Oh, you’re keeping track, are you?” he asks, folding his arms and body over his legs and smiling up at you.

“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning forward toward him. “Would you like a sampling of reasons?”

The look he gives you then is hopeful, but more than a little dread slips through in his shining red eyes. When he answers, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Only if you mean them.”

This withdrawn, unsure Astarion isn’t a common sight to you, but, like every other facet of the man before you, he’s no less lovable. So you lean forward, placing a kiss on his pale forehead, and say, “I mean them with my whole heart.”

“Then… I suppose I ought to be lavished with them," he murmurs, and you spot the blush intensifying over his cheeks, now also coloring his ears.

Coupled with his fluid, inebriated state, his heart laid bare before you, you want to scream the reasons from the roof of the Elfsong, if only for him to believe you. But, as it is, the soft snores of your companions keep your voice hushed, your face close to his as you begin.

“Let’s see… should I start with the first thing that stood out to me?”

He hums in agreement, and closes his eyes, as if preparing to listen to the sweetest tune known to the entirety of Faerun.

“Well, it started with your first lie, I think,” you start.

Astarion gives a disapproving groan, but doesn’t open his eyes.

“My dear, you said you said you had a ‘brain thing’ cornered– I hope you know the smile on my face wasn’t from confidence,” you say with a new, fond smile at the memory. “I just knew from that moment on, you didn’t much care for what others thought of you, as long as your goals were met. A kindred spirit. Or so you said that day.”

At that, he reopens his eyes. “That’s not true.”

“We’re not kindred spirits?” you ask, an unexpected tinge of hurt blooming in your chest.

“That’s true,” he says, balming the hurt quickly. “It’s not true that I don’t care what others think of me. I do. Well, maybe not everyone.” His eyes dart toward Gale’s bed and you stifle a snicker. “But I certainly care what you think of me.”

You look into his crimson eyes, a bit clearer now than when you began talking– the blood seems to be working its way through his system. His words come from a place of honesty, not a lack of inhibition.

“Then, let me assure you here and now,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “I think–” Another quick peck on his lips. “you’re the funniest–” A kiss to his nose. “the most deft–” A brush of lips against his temple. “creative, endearing, brave–” Each word comes with a kiss along his jaw. “man I’ve ever met.”

Astarion’s eyes look at you, his face still for a moment as he considers your words. When he finally speaks, it’s a quiet, choked up question, “Oh, is that it?”

“Would you like me to keep going?” you ask, lips perched just above his eyebrow, ready for another round.

He shakes his head ever so slightly. “No– no need or you’ll be here all night, surely,” he says, posturing as best as he can while still looking at you with fearful eyes. Almost as if your candid praise is simply too much for him to bear.

It may be too much, and you’re not one to push it.

“Very well,” you say, pulling back. “But I didn’t even get to how good you look covered in blood…”

The man gives a light laugh at that, some of his nerves melting before praise he understands– his appearance is a source of comfort, one that brings him back to himself. “Oooh yes, I do look dashing in red, don’t I?” he purrs, a content smile forming on his face.

“That you do,” you assure, with your own warm look. You wish he would accept all praise this easily, but you suppose this is all you can do for now.

So little of what matters to you is his vampirism, his looks… but for a man like Astarion, for whom a kind word felt like a double-edged blade for two centuries? Well, you’re reminded that regardless of how many times you may tell him, whether now when he’s a bit fuzzy around the edges or when you’re in your cups, he may never truly believe you.

No matter, you suppose. I’ll simply keep finding new ways to show him how much I care for him…

“So Jaheira was kidding, right?” Astarion asks, sitting up and finally beginning to remove his leathers.

You nod, moving to help him remove his greaves. “Naturally. I thought you’d been enjoying the conversation, actually.”

“I had been,” he replies, thoughtfully. “But the more I remembered how sinfully you shiver under my fangs…”

He’s dodging before you can so much as flick his ear. “Excuse you. Is that any way to treat your most reliable source of sustenance?”

Astarion smirks as he leans away from you in the bed. “Oh darling, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. After all, you can’t help it.”

“Astarion–”

“Ehem!” You hear from somewhere behind you. It’s followed shortly by Shadowheart’s annoyed voice, “Would the two of you please keep it down? Some of us are trying to rest.”

If by ‘rest’ she means ‘reach the end of her copper novel’, then you suppose she’s right. Either way, you whisper back, “Sorry, I was defending my dignity.”

“What dignity?” she murmurs back. “And in case you’re wondering, you’re both utter fools.”

Oh great, she’d heard everything.

“Shadowheart, were you eavesdropping?” Astarion asks, crawling over you to glare at her from the edge of your bed. He’s half-dressed and still somewhat out of sorts, so you just lean back against the pillows and accept your fate.

“Is it really eavesdropping if I can hear it all clearly?” the cleric says, and you hear her book snap shut. “Besides, Astarion, if you really needed someone to reassure you, you should have asked me.”

“You?” he asks, incredulously. “And why should I ask you?”

“Because,” she starts, and you can hear her wicked smile in her tone. “I can confirm without a shadow of a doubt that there’s no such thing as ‘vampiric charm.’ I’ve never felt less charmed in my entire life.”

You can sense Astarion is just about ready to light Shadowheart’s hair on fire, so you tug him back down from the divide. “Thank you for that clarification, Shadowheart,” you call, biting back a laugh. “And I’m starting to realize none of us really have private conversations, do we?”

“No, we do not,” you hear Gale reply from a few beds away.

With that, Astarion gives an exasperated sigh and the two of you finish removing his armor in silence. When you’re both finally ready for bed and you whisper to him, “Goodnight.” Shadowheart, Gale, and Wyll all respond, “Goodnight!”

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion is bad at feelings #tadfools tomfoolery #astarion comfort #spawn astarion

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messylustt · 10 months

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a distraction? — miguel o’hara. drabble based on this writing prompt request.

your fingers tightened around your mission report as you made your way into miguel’s office. as always he’s stood, busy swiping and tapping at the multiple screens, different lights reflecting onto his monotoned face.

“uh, miguel?” you call. your sweet tone has his ears perking up as if he’s some dog. like always a scowl sets on his face at his own reaction to you. “mission report.” you slightly hold up the file in your hand as he finally turns his head to look at you.

cold. that’s all you feel and that’s all you see in his expression. maybe if you looked close enough, dared to actually look him in the eyes you’d see something far from a considered ‘chilling’ word. he lets his body drop down in front of you, grabbing the report.

“did you catch him?” miguel asks, briefly flipping through the papers. “i think i’d be pretty ballsy coming in here if i didn’t” you lightly chuckle.

miguel glances up his expression not having shifted as you press your lips together, quieting yourself. “yes, he’s all locked up”

“good. lyla.” he calls, the bubbly ai appearing by his shoulder “add this to the reports”

she mockingly salutes, earning your lips to quirk up a fraction, before she disappears with your report. “any troubles?” miguel’s almost strict undertone, makes your almost smile fall.

“none that needs accounting for.” there had been a small incident where the anomaly had gotten a hold of your wrist watch. it’s now partially smashed, and in the hands of hobie. you didn’t think you had the best of luck when it came to miguel so you decided it best to let hobie try and fix it before alerting miguel of your mistake.

“hm.” miguel hums, his gaze darting. what you didn’t know was that miguel couldn’t help but let every detail of you sink in. every time he saw you his eyes traced the same path. and when his gaze trailed along your wrist he paused. “where’s your wrist watch?”

you look down at your bare wrist. “oh, i just took it off. got a bit…irritating.” miguel’s eyes narrow as you try not to visibly gulp. “so, uh, if that’s all…” you go to step back, but miguel’s hand reaches out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, simultaneously pulling you back (even closer than before), as his hand brings your wrist up to his face.

you slightly stiffen at the contact, brows furrowing. miguel brushes a claw over your wrist earning your muscles to twitch. he takes note of this. and drawing back your suit he’s presented with a discoloured bruise, wrapped around your arm in a circle. “what’s this?”

“normal…anomaly catching…injuries.” you say, your tone attempting to sound convincing. miguel’s claw brushes back along your wrist, his gaze now narrowed.

“it’s where your wrist watch was.” miguel states.

“as i said, it was getting irritating.” you subtly try to pull your hand back, but miguel’s grip is strong and strangely persistent.

“you lost it.” miguel remarks.

you scoff. “no i didn’t lose it.”

then miguel clocks on. “you broke it.”

“alright well — i didn’t break it.” as if that would change much. miguel met your gaze with a slight raise to his brow, as you sigh. “i didn’t mean for him to get to it. i just got too…close. and then he was grabbing my wrist. broken wrist watch, bruised skin, so on.” you mutter. “but it’s handled.”

“handled?” he still hasn’t let your wrist go.

“yeah, it’s getting fixed. and it’ll be as good as new soon.” you remark standing a little straighter.

miguel’s gaze hasn’t shifted from your eyes, his focus a little too intense. “why were you so close?”

“sorry?”

“the anomaly. why’d you need to be that close?” miguel elaborates.

“oh, well…uh…we needed a distraction.” you mutter out, not meeting his gaze. “so, that the other spiders could get all this guys gadgets and stuff. so he’d be weaponless.”

“and?” miguel pushes.

“and…i seemed to be voted the best candidate.”

“to do what, exactly?” everything about miguel hasn’t wavered.

you slightly nibble on your lower lip, actually a fraction embarrassed by this. “just to, you know…flirt…a little bit.” you instantly wince as miguel’s grip on your wrist tightened.

“i’m sorry?” he remarks, coldly.

“as a distraction. it surprising worked…for a bit. before he clocked on when I leant away and — ”

“leant away?” for the first time you can actually catch a proper emotion in miguel’s tone. “how close were you, y/n?”

your tongue brushes along your teeth. “like…” you demonstrate by lifting your hand in front of your face, and slowly closing the distance.

as miguel watches just how close you had gotten, his jaw clenches. “so, you’re telling me that in order for you to catch this anomaly you brought him this close…” miguel provides his own demonstration, pulling you in by your wrist as you slightly stumble into him, your faces inches apart, making your breathing hitch. “is that right?”

you slowly nod. “we catch dangerous anomalies, not flirt with them.” he says.

“it was only so that we could catch him.” you say a little too quietly as your breath hits miguel’s face. “right.” he mutters, his tongue dragging along the roof of his mouth, clearly agitated.

“and what was your plan after the flirting? i mean if you got this close, i’m sure you would have had a plan.” miguel’s tone is dripping with mocking as he tries not to snarl out the words.

you assume that he’s pissed because it undermines what the spider society is made for. when in reality, miguel just doesn’t want a man to be close to you. “you aren’t stupid, y/n. usually this kinda distance…means something.”

you’ve noticed the change in your breathing, as you stare at miguel. if you leant the smallest fraction forward your lips would be touching his. “so, is that what you planned? to kiss him?”

you can’t help but feel flushed at his words, your embarrassment clear. “of course not.”

“you said you leant away.” he begins to lean forward, your lips parting a fraction as your mouth salivates. “is that right?”

you quickly nod. “he’s an anomaly. i wouldn’t have just…kissed him.”

“mhm.” but miguel isn’t stopping, his lips now slightly parted in front of yours. “just because he was an anomaly?”

your silence makes miguel’s grip shift to your back, forcing you to arch into him, as a small misstep of breath leaves your lips. you’re now extremely close. “no.” he answers for you. miguel doesn’t know how he’s gotten you this close, but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to step back.

“you wouldn’t have kissed him because you don’t like him.” he speaks slowly, almost telling you that that’s how your answer should be. “you don’t like anyone right?” his claw has shifted from your wrist to a small strand of your hair. he’s now too far gone.

“what?” your eyes are fluttering as you stare at miguel, still inches away.

“i'll admit...you're peeking my interest....and that's not good…” he mutters out, half speaking to you half getting it off his chest.

you’re in shock, miguel’s lips now faintly brushing yours, mouth open. “not good at all…”

but before he can finally close the distance a loud bang resonates around the room, from what sounds to be the opening of a door. you immediately manage to shove miguel away, fixing yourself. you tried your best not to look flustered as peter emerges. “hey, miguel — oh, hey, y/n.” peter smiles, oblivious to your heaving chest and miguel’s deathly glare.

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nisuna · 6 months

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I NEED HEAD CANONS ON PERVBEST FRIEND GOJO AND GETO, MAYBE WITH SOME TAG TEAMING🫣🫣🫣🫣 gojo sticking his hand in your bra(with consent) cause he’s,oh!so cold, and your just so so warm. Geto taking questionable pictures of you, your Twinkie had to much cream in it and it oozed on your face, before you even had the chance to wipe the cream off, he takes a picture, all in good “fun”, Geto and Gojo sharing a collection of photos of you. Maybe they came over to your apartment, after a bit hanging out, you go to get food for the 3 of you, one of them gets curious and starts snooping in your room only to find your vibrator or panties, and maybe just maybe they take it with them after you guys get done hanging out, sharing it with each other cause that’s what best friends do! I’m so sorry this is so horny, I was thinking with my choochie 😕😕😕😕

Okay so first of all I definitely DID NOT expect so many people to vote on my poll so thanks for that 😭✋🏻 and over ¼ of you voted for Satosugu tag team so I am here to deliver :^) I changed some things but I hope you still enjoy and I sincerely thank your coochie for coming up with this 🫶🏻 I too must admit that I was writing this with all of my pussy

Thank you for your take!!<3

<3masterlist<3

~kind of long(?) drabble~ Strictly 18+ Minors DNI

TW: pervy roommates&bff!satosugu, questionable consent at some parts but it's all good in the end, panty stealing, groping, vaginal double penetration, nipple play, marking, biting, hickeys, noncon picture taking, jerking off, it's just very messy and nasty, they start off very mean but they actually really do like you a lot<3, use of good girl, baby, angel, smut with fluff, aftercare

When your two best friends first suggested moving in together you didn't think much of it. You've known each other for a long time and they've always been very kind and helpful. You hang out together all the time anyway, so of course you said yes! And the first few weeks were fine, but then you noticed panties going missing and when you asked them if they saw them anywhere, they just shrugged blaming the washing machine/dryer. Sus, but you didn't think much of it, you trusted them.

You did notice them getting more touchy with you though. Their hands straying to your boobs and ass when they hugged you around the house. The first time Satoru put his hand in your bra you told him off but he just whined that his hands were so cold and you were so warm. Sus. They made you sit on their laps, especially when you were eating something cream filled, bouncing their leg and catching you off guard smearing the cream all over your face. As you went so wipe it off they stopped you, only to stick their fingers in your mouth and snap a quick pic.

And if you dared to speak up they shushed you and said that it's just friends having fun with each other. "Relax, it's not that serious." You thought it was quite serious, but you kept that to yourself for the sake of your friendship. They surely cared about you a lot, right?

Oh boy you had no idea just how much they cared about you. They were highkey obsessed. They obviously always liked you a lot, that's why you were friends afterall. But after moving in with you they realized that they liked you way more than they were anticipating. Of course it was them who stole your panties, breathing in your scent and using the fabric to jerk their throbbing cocks off. And the just for fun pictures they took, oh they had a whole album of them. You didn't even notice most of them being taken. And they made sure to always exchange them with each other if they got some new material.

During movie nights they had you squished between their bodies, one of them softly caressing and squeezing the fat of your thighs, while the other was playing with the hem of your tiny shorts. They liked to think that you wore them especially for them, exchanging knowing grins while your eyes were focused on the tv screen in front of you.

You were just too cute not to tease. Especially when your breath hitched as their fingers got dangerously close to your core. Or when you were clutching onto their shirts when their hot breath and lips hit your neck making you squirm. And after the first time they made you cum, they knew they were hooked. And when they finally had sex with you for the first time, they swore they fell in love. You were so cute and obedient and just so so soft. They loved watching you squirm as you tried to take them like a good girl. To your surprise, most of the time they were really gentle with you while praising you throughout their thrusts.

They both fucked you on their own the first time, but slowly tried to get you used to them both being there. The first few times it was one of them fucking you while the other just watched, dick throbbing in their hand and finishing with cumming on your face or tits. They were also very big on aftercare, spoiling you with anything you needed and praising you for taking them like a champ.

But one day they just couldn't help themselves and thought of a pretty little surprise for you. Suguru told you that he had to leave to run some errands, leaving you alone with Satoru, which ended with you on your side while Satoru was pounding into you from behind on your shared bed.

"'Toruuu~ feel so good you're so deep- ah"

"Yeah? Feels good right, look I'm in your fucking tummy, baby. You're so tiny. 'Can feel myself all the way in there", he whispered as he splayed his hand out over your lower stomach, kissing along the expanse of your neck.

You were too caught up in the moment to even pay attention that Suguru had not left at all and was listening to both of you through the closed door, already undressed waiting for his cue.

"Baby?"

"Hmm?", you mewled arching your back as he played with one of your hardened nipples.

"Can you keep your eyes closed for me for a bit? I want to try something out. Oh, and lift your leg a bit. Thats it, good girl", he praised while holding your leg up by the knee. The new angle making you feel light headed.

You were too fucked out to notice the door opening and closing as a certain someone slipped inside the room. He had to hold back a gasp when he saw you splayed out like this. Completely bare, looking insanely soft and spread wide open just for them. Satoru and him exchanged a look and he slowly made his way over to where the two of you were laying. When the bed dipped under his weight next to you, your eyes opened.

"Hi pretty," he pecked your lips.

"Nnngh Suguru are you back already? I thought you were- ah", you gasped as Satoru rolled his hips into you expertly.

"I never left, angel. We wanted to surprise you."

"Surprise me how?" you questioned mouth slightly hanging open and pupils blown wide open.

"We think you're ready to take us both. Would you like to try that, hm? If it hurts too bad we can stop."

You hesitated. Take them both? How? Your questions were answered as you felt Suguru's member prod at your etrance.

"I don't think I can-"

"Oh sure you can, you're so wet. Don't worry, we'll make it fit. You're such a big girl, I'm sure you can take two cocks in your pussy. It's gonna feel so good, I promise."

You were skeptical, but the thought did make you gush around Satoru. He kissed your neck for reassurance as Suguru went to cup your breast, fondling it softly. You felt so nervous, but safe at the same time. You trusted them, so you nodded your head letting out a breathless, "Okay, I'm ready."

"We'll take this slow, we got you."

The first stretch almost make you scream as you slung your arm around Suguru, scratching his back in the process while hiding in the crook of his neck

As soon as they both bottomed out he whispered against your hair, "Shhh it's fine, you're fine. Tell us when you're ready for us to move."

You took a couple of deep breaths trying to adjust to the extreme stretch. After a while you finally nodded and they slowly picked up their pace.

Suguru tried to kiss your pain away swallowing all of your whines in a deep kiss.

"You're doing so well for us, such a good girl.", Satoru whispered against the nape of your neck. And as you felt tears swelling, Suguru made sure to wipe them away smiling at you gently.

After a while it did start feeling incredible you were huffing and puffing as they both moved in sync stuffing you to the brim.

"Feels good", you moaned against Suguru's lips, "more, want more!" And it made you squirm as you felt Satoru suck a deep hickey into the side of your neck.

"Such a greedy girl. But see, I promised we'd make you feel good."

"Yeah, you're so tight and wet for us, good girl. Such a good girl for taking two big cocks so well."

"Want you to fill me up.. please and 'want to cum! Want to cum on your perfect cocks, please make me cum."

Your moans really got to their heads as they picked up the pace fucking into you harder than before.

"Yeah? Wanna cum? Of course we're gonna make you cum, how could we not if you beg so nicely."

"And we're gonna fill you up to the brim, make you nice and plump." with that Satoru moved his hand from your leg to your clit, rubbing thick circles into it, which made you see stars. They were hitting all of the right spots and you felt yourself getting close.

"'m gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-!!"

And you swore you saw hearts in Suguru's eyes as soon as you clamped down on their cock, creaming all over them and letting out the lewdest moan they have ever heard you make.

"Ah, holy shit. So good, you're so good for us. Oh my god." Suguru praised as they both continued to fuck you through your high, Satoru's fingers not leaving your clit. You felt yourself get overstimulated as you grabbed onto Suguru's arms digging your nails into them.

"'S too much I can't, I can't-"

"Shh you're almost there, you got it, just a little more."

You bit down on your lip, moaning in the rhythm of their thrusts. But you definitely didn't expect another orgasm to come your way.

"Shit! I think I'm gonna cum again, please don't stop 'Toru.. please dont!!"

"Like hell I would!", he slurred. His arm was starting to burn from the tension, but his rhythm didn't falter, rubbing you through your second high.

And at the feeling if your your tight cunt convulsing around their cocks they lost themselves, filling you up to the brim with their warm cum.

"Oh god I'm so full, it's all the way in my womb, gooood" you cried against Suguru's shoulder as he pulled you close and kissed the top of your head.

Satoru kissed the back of your head as the three of you stayed like this for a while, basking in each other's warmth.

You were the first to break the silence, trying to peel yourself from their grasps, "Okay enough.. ah I feel so sticky and uncomfy", you whined. They only chuckled at you being so adorable. Eventually, Satoru was the first to pull out and get up from the bed.

"I'll go make a bath ready and get you a glass of water."

You nodded with a weak smile, feeling Suguru pull out of you as well, but still keeping your body close while stroking your hair.

"Were you comfortable? Did it hurt a lot?"

"At first yes, it hurt quite a bit..", you sighed. "But then it felt really good, I liked it a lot. Thank you for the surprise."

Suguru chuckled against your head, "You're welcome, glad you liked it. I'm very proud of you by the way. You did such a good job."

You felt your cheeks heat up at his praise, but you let out a groan at his next words.

"Sooo.. any positions you'd like to try next?"

And with perfect timing Satoru walked right in on your conversation. "Are you plotting a round two without me??!, he fake gasped, which only earned him a pillow right in his face, almost spilling the glass of water he brought for you.

"Definitely not right now!!"

But it also made you smile at how well you all got along, you were definitely looking forward to your future with them.

-----

Feel free to send me your Hot Takes as well ^^

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vote-gaara · 1 year

Text

Okay...This one's giving off very hostile "Cringey Facebook Meme" vibes, but y'know what?

....

I'm sorry!

Please vote Gaara and I'll never post anything like this again.

34 notes · View notes

ajortga · 5 months

Text

the forgotten letter

pairing: tara carpenter x fem reader

a/n- ahh guys it's finally here! probably one of the longest word count story i've done with around 6k words, but yes! for the people who voted on my poll, i did both angst and happy ending<3. i hope you enjoy!

thank you for 100 followers, i guess this is a special!

You think you loved Tara for as long as you could remember.

Well, years later, you think you loved her ever since you laid eyes on her, if you knew what love meant.

It was like a click, a connection, the kind of love you didn't even know was real out of movies.

But it was, it all was when you met Tara.

You had met her in second grade, well, you could say a year after. How could you forget that every day, you were on the swings, and the only reason was to be able to see Tara eating at the same table with her lunch box without being caught staring. You always looked at the sky when she turned, sometimes you would make eye contact and she'd give you the sweetest smile that made you kick your feet and giggle till you fell asleep with a smile on your face two nights in a row.

You were always a shy soul when it came to making conversations with strangers, especially someone as beautiful as Tara, with her wavy, long hair that seemed to always be perfect. A little messy? You wouldn't dare to say that, one small messy hair is like realizing how it complimented the girl you thought was perfect enough. Her dark brown eyes seemed to have stars in them, you loved stars.

The first time you made an interaction, it was the same procedure, lunch-time bell rings, your classmates squeal, you all run out, and you make your way to the second swing that was next to the lunch tables. Then you'd wait and wait, till you saw her, then you'd swing, even though you weren't very good, you only got a foot high at most times.

Usually, when you would swing, your friends would be there, but when you told them about Tara, and how you said, "I think she's very very very pretty." They all laughed, saying "ewwwwww.." They kind of left you by yourself on the swings from then forward.

You were sad, but that didn't stop you from always looking at her.

Tara noticed, you were staring at your feet, swinging lowly and she felt bad, she didn't like strangers, but she always saw you, it was like you were friends. So she abandoned her lunch box and walked over to you.

"Hi.. Do you want me to help swing you? My sissy Sam taught me some ways so you could swing higher! I can push you if you want!"

You looked up at her mouth open as they quickly turned into a wide smile, Tara thought it was cute.

"Yes please! I-I don't know how to swing very high.."

She giggled, shaking her head as she approached closer behind you, where the handles were, "I know, every day you are here and every time, I see you swing and swing! But your friends.. They aren't here. Are they absent?"

You shook your head, a little pout showing, "No.. They.." You didn't know what to say, and as much as you wanted to lie.. You couldn't to this girl that made you smile. "I come here and see you every day, and I always want to talk to you, but I feel weird and not comfy when I try talking to people I don't know very well. My mommy says it's called being shy. I think you are very pretty. My friends don't like when people say that. They say it's yucky. So now I'm a little lonely."

Tara looked surprised, but it quickly turned into a small smile, tilting her head, "You think I'm pretty?"

You nod your head up and down, "I think you are very pretty, I see these stars in your eyes that no one else has, I think it's cool."

She smiles, happily, "I think you're very pretty too! Wow! I never been called pretty! Thank you! Wow!"

You turn to her and give her a smile you never knew existed, it looked so happy, "Thank you!"

"My name is Tara by the way. Tara Carpenter!"

"I'm Y/N! Y/N Y/L/N! That name fits you.. Tara.. I don't think I'll remember that.." (That was a lie, you memorized it by the time you got home and asked your mom to write it on your notebook..) "I think I'll have to call you a shorter name.. Like.. Cheese!"

She makes a small grimace, but it looked so cute, "Cheese? You're funny!"

You both giggled as you give her a cheeky grin, "I think we'll be really good friends."

"Me too," She says with a soft voice, pushing you on the swings, higher than you could ever imagine. You could see the clouds and felt like you could touch them, but most of all, you could see her name in the sky.

"Tara Carpenter," You whispered to yourself with a squeal as Tara pushed you higher.

- -

In 6th grade, your parents had a big fight that made your eyes go wide, making you hide under your bed as you clawed at your ears, silently sobbing. Sure they fought and it could be bad, but this one was different, it was worse, screaming, crying, your walls shaking and random things being thrown. You found out that they got divorced.

Then at that night, you grabbed your phone and opened your window with tears in your eyes, going to Tara's house, running as fast as you could move.

You climbed up the ladder that Tara had shown you and crawled to her room on top of the house, knocking quietly on her window, sniffling.

A long moment later, you could see her shadow as she opened it, rubbing her eyes as she looked at you, "Y/N?"

Then, she looked up at your face, the only light was from her lamp and the moonlight, finally seeing your tear stained cheeks and crying eyes.

"You're crying," She says, concern flooding through her features as she pulled you inside and onto her bed.

She sat next to you as you stared at her stuffed animal.

"Not too much.." You murmur, tears daring to fall down again.

"Why?"

Should you tell her something that has been going on for almost your whole life?..

"My parents fought today.. Oh Tara.. It was terrifying.. There was screaming, crying, I heard so many things being thrown and I tried everything.. It just w-wouldn't stop.. They.. I.. They..." You sniffle, your mouth opening to let out soft cries, she knew what happened, your mom and dad weren't together anymore.

Something in Tara broke, she couldn't see you cry. Seeing you cry made her eyes water, especially someone like you.

She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you closer, making you sob against her chest, rubbing circles behind your back, something she learned in the past.

"It's all going to be okay. I'm here. I won't ever leave you."

Your lip trembles, looking up at her, "Do you really promise?"

She can see it in your eyes, fear. You don't want her to leave you.

"I promise."

You nod against her chest, turning away from her so your back is facing her stomach as she hugs you.

A moment passes before you turn to her again, she could see something swimming underneath those eyes, uncertainty.

"Do you really promise? Y-You're all I have."

Tara can feel her heart squeeze as she nods, nuzzling your nose. "I really promise."

You nod, "I trust you. I always trust you." You whisper, sniffling as you hug her, your nose buried against her chest as you cry, cries turning more muffled as she can sense your beginning to fall asleep. You never heard, but as you slept, she kissed your forehead quickly, whispering a small, "Love you."

- -

When Tara was 15, her parents divorced like yours, and both her dad and sister left her. She didn't know what she felt.

She was upset, she cried in her bed for months..

But then, she felt angry. Angry at her dad, her sister, at the world.

It was a turn of events for her and it caused her to shut everyone out. Everyone.

Including you.

She didn't want to take any anger out on you, she would never be angry you. But she always felt like if she talked to someone she cared deeply about, like you, she would snap.

But she never thought abandoning you would hurt you as much as she thought.

At first, it was when she saw you in the halls, and you saw her, but as soon as she met your eyes, she would turn a corner, seeing your waving hand fall limp to your sides. She felt bad. But it would get easier, and it did.. But she always felt that small feeling of guilt eating at her.

It happened multiple times, but you thought she just couldn't see you.

Then it was in the classes you shared when she wouldn't talk to you.

You usually would talk to her, but whenever she wouldn't talk to you first, you would think she's busy.

But she never turned to you with a joke, a conversation, not even a glance when you saw.

You sat alone at lunch, you sat alone at dinner too, maybe be greeted with your dad if he was drinking.

No more good morning, goodnight, or any texts from Tara.

You tried approaching her, but every time you'd lock eyes, she'd give you this stare that made your gut twist and walk the other way.

You couldn't help but cry, you felt betrayed, everything was crumbling. You had lost the one person that you cared so so deeply about, the person you desperately wanted to be by your side for the rest of your life.

It was hard to get any sleep, because most of the time, you'd be staring at the ceiling, waiting for a goodnight text that would never come. The goodnight text that let you fall asleep as quickly as you shut your eyes.

And you thought that it was because of you, she didn't want to see you ever again.

You cried, every single night till you passed out from exhaustion.

Little did Tara know, that there was a letter on the side of your desk, the fresh ink marking it's words on the paper beginning to see the seasons change, beginning to grow as time went on.

The letter you were going to give Tara confessing your love.

The letter that you spent day and night on.

The letter that was now untouched for months, left on the side of your desk.

The letter, filled with your words of adoration, never being able to experience a reaction, because you never gave to her.

You felt numb, you didn't know what to feel, but you felt abandoned, it hurt so much, it hurt harder than a piercing knife in the heart.

Tara noticed you began to avoid her, began to finally accept it.

You never truly accepted it, you would say you just lost hope, 3 years had passed so quickly.

In class, when she'd turn to you, you never turned back.

When she would sit at the spot you both sat at, she would see your shadow sitting on the chair, untouched and cold.

Sometimes she'd see you at the park, just sitting on a picnic towel and writing in your journal.

Under the tree you both would always sit,

Never having the guts to approach you.

She would say you seemed peaceful, but you weren't. Because whenever she saw your face, it's like your sweet persona was gone and faded, the vibrant colors you used to have was long gone.

Replaced with eyebags, tired eyes, and hair that was always covered by headphones or a hoodie.

Tara never knew why her leaving you left a big mark on your heart, you two were just friends. Right?

She tried to stop thinking about why, but she couldn't help it, you popped up in her head on nights she couldn't go to bed so easily.

- -

Tara was looking at the stars one night, just staring, the moonlight glistening on her cheeks.

She thought of you. She thought back to second grade, words that were ages ago. She could hear your tiny voice.

"I see these stars in your eyes that no one else has, I think it's cool."

She then realized she made a huge mistake, why didn't she think of it before?

Her leaving you was like you being abandoned again, she left you in the dark when she said she would never abandon you. But she left just like your parents.. She left just like how her parents did..

She promised that night you had ran to her. She promised that she would never leave you, and you weren't the person who trusted people often.

But you trusted her. You knew that she wouldn't leave you.

You thought she wouldn't leave you.

She was the first person you thought of when you were afraid, because she was really all you had.

"Do you really promise? Y-You're all I have."

She remembers those words she said that night, her voice running around her mind, saying the words, "I promise."

She remembers you telling her your parents divorced, she remembers you telling her that when you were with your mom, she was never home, you never had a holiday to spend with your family. Most days alone, and when you met Tara, she always let you come for the holidays.

She was all you had, and you were faithful in what she told you. But she abandoned you, just like everybody in your life had did. She had did something she never wanted to be in the first place. She was so mad that she was left by her family, even when her mom was still with her, that she didn't realize that she did the one thing she wanted so badly not to be.

Abandoned, you were abandoned when she was all you had.

She knew she had to do what was right, she thought distancing herself would work. But it made you worse. She had to fix it.

- -

You were sitting at the park, same place, with your journal, your tote bag in the other, listening to god knows what.

(You were listening to "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron..)

Tara was going to finally approach you.

Something in her gut told her something was wrong, something was going to be wrong. But she sighed, just brushing it off and thinking that it would be you possibly never forgiving her.

She sat next to you, making your head turn from the small thump next to you.

Your eyes were shocked, mouth agape, whispering the only word she could make up.

"Tara.."

She bit her lip, but instead of smiling at her, you didn't say anything, looking at her with a small scowl and turned your head back to your journal, exhaling an angry huff.

She frowned, looking at you, reaching for your shoulder.

"Look.. Y/N-"

"-Save it Tara." You snapped, making her flinch.

"Y/N, please."

You make a long sigh, turning to her. "Tara I really don't have time for this. You shouldn't be being here right now. You can't be here today! You shouldn't be!"

She looked confused but she kept going, "Look I-I'm sorry. For leaving you."

You turned to her again, at this point she could read your gaze, you were angry, you were upset, most of all behind those eyes, you were hurt.

"You can't just leave me for 3 years and come back to apologize thinking I'll forgive you just like that! You're out of my life for so long and come back like nothing has happened."

She exhaled, "Let me just speak! I-I've learned from then and I'm trying to apologize!"

You stopped her, "I don't want you apologizing for this damage that has caused my life to crumble and has already been dealt with.."

She interrupted you, "I know! But I was dealing with so much! M-my parents divorced and I thought letting you go would be best.. Please, I'm trying! Can't we just go back to what we had and forget what has happened?"

You were hurt, tears brimming at your eyes, "You don't understand! Are you forgetting that you left me? YOU left me Tara! And you didn't bother to even tell me or apologize when you left. I was depressed okay? And it was because of you! Every single damn day for three years I was never able to sleep properly because I would think that you would finally text me one night and wish me a goodnight! You were all I had! When my parents divorced I didn't leave you!"

At this point, when your mouth opened, soft cries were being heard, "You were all I had.." You repeat, sniffling, "You promised me you wouldn't leave and that's just what you did."

She felt bad, the walls you put up to get away from her were all falling apart, she saw the little girl that she knew once before. The little girl she saw that night your parents divorced when they both left you. She felt all this guilt that has built up when she ignored you beginning to swarm in her chest, she felt horrible.

"I'm sorry. I don't even know who I was.." She whispered, looking at your shaking figure.

You turned to her, your tears flowing down, like the three years to stop them wasn't enough.

"Tara just s-stop! I-I'm just getting over you after this long and I can't have you here again. N-not today."

She looked at you, aghast, eyes wide, "What?"

You cover your face, hands sliding down to stop, "Yes Tara! I loved you! I fucking loved you and the day I was going to tell you, you left! YOU left me!" You screamed, angry, betrayed, sentence ending with a cry.

She was stunned. You loved her.. You loved Tara. And she thought that when she loved you, pushing you away could make her forget her feelings, making sure you were safe, but she caused this.

You didn't wait for her to respond, shuffling through your tote bag and grabbing up a crumpled piece of paper, slamming it in her hand before you got up and left, the gush of wind hitting her hair as she stared at her hand in horror, not knowing what to do.

- - night

Tara sat in her room, staring at the ceiling, hair draped all over her bed as the only light was from her lamp, only adding a light orange hue to her room.

She felt bad, she should've known that she never should've left you. She should've thought about how you were going to feel like. It made her want to cry.

As much as she's staring, she notices the crumpled up paper you gave her. She wasn't even sure what it was, maybe that's why she was so scared of opening it.

She grabs it from the side of her night stand and slowly uncrumples it, revealing a letter.

From you 3 years ago.

Dear Tara,

We've been friends for so long and I remember when you first came up to me in second grade because you noticed my friends weren't playing with me like they usually do everyday. To be honest, I never told you but for some reason, years ago, I remember staring at you every day while you ate lunch because you seemed so sweet and I wanted to approach you so badly. It's weird that myself in second grade would even do that. But you should know the only reason why I sat on the swings, every, single, day was because I wanted to see you. That's the first time we've ever met and I'm so blessed for that day because now, you're my best friend. Everyday I'm so happy to have you to be the reason I get to smile and have a shoulder to cry on or rest on. I've been wanting to tell you this for so long, but I remember feeling a strange feeling in my chest when I first confessed my problems at home with my parents and felt your soft hands touch mine to comfort me.

It was so so weird. Love always seemed like something I might never have because I found it to be gross. But when I met you, I felt like love wasn't so bad anymore. That day, I remember feeling this warmness in my cheeks when you hugged me, I remember feeling something I don't feel for people often. I felt trust. That's when I knew I was falling in love with you. you've been there every step of the way and I don't know where I'd be without you. Tara, I want to write to you that I love you. I've been falling ever since on nights where I got yelled at and came to your house crying, when you invited me over for Christmas with your family because I didn't have a home I wanted to go to, I love you because you're Tara and it's so hard to explain. but at the same time it isn't. I don't think I met someone as loving, understanding, and caring as you, I've seen you as someone who can light up a room. Even on my bad days, you somehow manage to make me smile, not many people can do that for a person like me.

My mother was planning to move to Canada in like 3 years, she said 3 years later in April, but she said it was up to me. And I told her we had to wait just a little longer because I wanted to give this letter to you and see what you said. I think I won't leave this place because it stores all our memories, like at the coffee shops or the tree we sit down at every morning of Saturday. I'm not leaving because you're the only person that is making me stay. I would've been long gone if you weren't here. But meeting you has caused me to look forward to something to everyday. To someone. I don't think I've ever been so happy to you know, just walk to your house randomly and pop out under your bed and see your scared reaction. But, Tara Carpenter, I love you. I don't even think these words can even explain the kind of comfort, or need that I feel when you're by my side. I hope that these words can help you realize how much you've taken a toll on my life, and possibly, one day I can be by your side for the rest of my life.

All my love,

Y/N/Y/L/N

<;33

Tara covered her mouth, trying to cover a cry, which came out muffled. Your words. Her betrayal. She left you before you could even tell her.

She thought of your face in her thoughts, she thought of seeing the letter fall out of your hands when she ignored you on every day she could ever see you.

She thought of you crumpling it with broken sobs and throwing it on your desk.

She thought of the letter you were going to give her, the letter that was supposed to be given, but never was.

The forgotten letter beginning to age.

And noticed, it was all ruffled and there were marks of fallen, long old tears on it, seeing how the ink smudged from the tears.

The letter fell, tears falling from her eyes and streaming down her face.

It must've been so long ago. But it felt like yesterday. Even though it was 3 years ago.

She could've changed the slightest thought of her mind the day she began to ignore you.

If she did, everything would've been right. She could picture her holding hands with you, cuddling at night with your favorite movie playing in the background. You two would've been in desperate, everlasting, love. If her parents didn't divorce, she could see you, in your usual wavy hair with a ribbon tied from the back with your half up half down, the smooth letter laying in your arms, running up to her. She could picture the way you smiled, the way your silly smile made her smile back with a tinted blush on her cheeks. She could picture the way she would jump up and down and say she loved you too.

Everything would've been perfect.

If she didn't leave you in the first place.

Instead, she was left with your letter, crumpled, not smooth, wrinkled, seeing the way the letter couldn't bear to be left anymore.

Tara fell asleep that night, broken, feeling horrible for the way you must've felt, with the crinkled letter in her hand.

- -

The next morning, Tara was at the park, she could see a train station up ahead, New York's local train station that she would take when she had to travel.

Tara was sitting under the tree you always sat at with her. The tree that held so many memories, the way when spring would hit, the white flowers would fall on the green grass when you two would be together. The way the tree's flowers began to wilt when you began to sit alone, like the friendship that began to wilt.

She waited, you sat at this tree every single day, but why weren't you coming? She waited, looking up at the flowers, they weren't very white anymore, the fallen flowers a little orange from being dried. It was spring, it was April, the flowers should've been whiter, but they weren't as bright. What a metaphor and sign it was for her. But still, they were as pretty as ever.

She bit her lip, sighing, grabbing the letter you wrote her again, reading it again. Then before she could read it again, as she looked up, she could see..

You?

You were at the train station, you held a luggage, looked packed, with your hair down, usually ribbon in your hair, waiting to enter the train.

Her eyes widened, and it came to her, everything made sense, her thoughts unfolding, everything like magic was happening.

She remembered something, something..

She quickly read the letter she was reading, then her eyes expanded with fear.

Then she remembered, it was 3 years since she left you, and it was April.

"My mother was planning to move to Canada in like 3 years, she said 3 years later in April, but she said it was up to me. And I told her we had to wait just a little longer because I wanted to give this letter to you and see what you said. I think I won't leave this place because it stores all our memories, like at the coffee shops or the tree we sit down at every morning of Saturday. I'm not leaving because you're the only person that is making me stay."

- -

happy ending

"Fuck!" Tara cried, grabbing the letter as she ran after you.

It couldn't be too late, it couldn't have been today!

As she ran, her legs taking her as far as they could, she could hear your voice in her mind,

"You shouldn't be being here right now. You can't be here today! You shouldn't be!"

She should've known you were going to leave, she should've seen last night! Is that why you were so afraid to see her when she came up to you? Because you knew you were going to be gone the next day? And she was going to keep you from leaving? Because you didn't have the heart to really tell her why she couldn't have talked to you?

It all made sense.

Tara sobbed as tears fell like a thunderstorm, running and seeing the train doors open, there were at least 10 people in front of you waiting to get on, it made her more desperate, running after you.

She screamed your name, she was so close but yet so far away, why can't the people move slower?

Tara lost her father and sister, she couldn't lose you. She can't. She needed to apologize, she never got to say her true apology.

She was almost there, and you were so close to entering the train, making her run up the stairs as fast as she could, panting and losing her breath.

The day was beginning to lose hope, there was only a few more people who needed to get on before it closed, before you did.

She saw your figure, your pretty face, not focusing on the tired eye bags as she got up the stairs, running to the train.

Tara screamed your name as loud as she could, making you turn, and her grabbing your arm, pulling you and your luggage out of the train, seeing it start to roll away.

She was panting hard, you turning to see her, your eyes full of fear, confusion, and most of all, a wave of.. Hope?

For some reason, it took her a while to catch her breath, but before you could say something, she hugged you, tightly.

The arms of you wrapped around her stomach, she felt you melt in her arms, burying your face against her chest, as she embraced you, the letter you wrote falling to the floor.

Tara cried as you both hugged, whispering in a slight broken voice, "I'm sorry Y-Y/N.."

You were crying too, softly as you hugged her, "I know.. It's okay. We're okay.."

She kept talking, she felt horrible, "I-I left you when you needed me.. I was the only person you relied on a-and I left because I w-wasn't thinking about how you felt.. I thought t-that if I c-could push you away, these feelings I-I felt would go away and I wouldn't take m-my anger out on you for my parents divorcing.. I'm s-so s-sorry.." The girl's scent comforted you, reminding you of your past, making you hug her more.

Tara could hear you hiccupping on cries as she twisted your hair, "I didn't even k-know you needed me that much, you s-should've told me you were planning to leave."

You looked up at her, you were crying horribly, she swept bangs away from your face to see your tired, broken face that has been building up these past 3 years.

"I-I thought you didn't want to see me anymore.. I thought you didn't need me.. I-I thought you left because you hated me.. or didn't care about me anymore.. I couldn't bear to think about you breaking your promise.. I thought you abandoned me.. I was s-so hurt that I j-just did all these things that weren't me.. I tried to avoid you.. I couldn't sleep or eat.. I was s-so scared because I had no one.." You said, voice barely a whisper, raw and full of hurt.

Tara's eyes widened a little, a wave of strong guilt hitting her, as she shushed you.. "No Y/N.. Of course not.. I never hated you.. I-I loved you and I couldn't bear to think that I would take my anger out that you never caused on you.. S-so I avoided you and didn't think about how m-much it would affect you. I'm sorry.." Tara said again, voice cracking.

You nodded against her chest, sniffling as Tara saw the tears fall again, wiping them.

"I love you," she whispered, "I always had."

She saw your eyes slightly sparkle, that sparkle that she thought she'd never see, the sparkle that disappeared that day she left.

Her hands reached to grab the letter she dropped, showing it to you, "Let's try to restart, okay?"

You were still crying, but managed to make a small smile formed as you nodded, "Tara, I love you. I've loved you for so long, I've loved you when I realized that you were the one person that I could finally trust, a word that I thought that might never happened, but it did because o-of you. C-can we maybe.. Just.."

She pulled you a little closer, grinning just a little as she nodded her head before you could finish, "Yes."

Then she kissed you softly, it was like everything had never happened, she could feel the way you hugged her, the way the wilted flowers were going to flourish again, the letter that was forgotten, finally given.

"Do you really promise you won't leave me?.."

You both locked eyes when pulling away, Tara held up a pinky.

"I don't break pinky promises."

You take her pinky and link it with yours, hugging her again.

"I trust you."

Every bad thing that happened between you two was long forgotten.

- -

angst ending

Tara's eyes widened with fear, seeing you with a packed luggage, your figure entering the train, you couldn't.. Not today..

"Fuck!" She cried, the train was not to far, she could still make it.

She screamed your name, all the feelings towards you she felt spilling out from her scream as she ran after you.

She ran, ran ran ran, running out of breath as her shoes crumpled on dry leaves and grass, crying.

"No! You can't be! Y/N! Please!" She screamed, but her voice was muffled, you couldn't hear her.

Tara was so close, yet so far as she kept running, getting closer, an apology of cries coming out.

The train got closer and closer as she finally saw you, screaming your name.

You finally turned around, knowing the voice all to well as you turned to see her.

Then the train doors closed, your eyes only being seen through the window as she cried out your name, shaking her head in disbelief, her eyes filled with regret and tears.

You looked at her, like you couldn't believe she was here, you thought you'd never see her again as your hand reached up to touch the window, your touch ghosting on her face as she could hear you mouth out her name.. "Tara.." Then she could sense the sense of shame on your face, sorrow.

"Please.. It's not too late.." She sobbed, her voice going in the crevices of the doors.

Then the train began to move, as she saw you getting farther and farther away, your hand on the window as she saw you mouth the words, "I'm sorry."

She ran after the train, but knew deep down, she wasn't going to make it. She wasn't going to see you again, the train leaving her sight as she cried, regretting the days she ignored you, regretting the way she made you think that she didn't ever care. She abandoned someone when knowing, years ago, she was once the girl who promised to protect them and never leave her side.

She knew that you had left, all those memories you two had created were left with her now. She knew that you weren't going to come back.

She never even got to say goodbye. She never got to say sorry. She never got to tell you she loved you, she loved you all of these years. She never knew where you would be. She would never know if you two would ever meet again.

The only sound she could hear was the wind blowing in her hair, blowing the muffled sounds of you two laughing and giggling, what you two once were, what you two could've been, it was just too late. You would just be a memory for her, a memory she could never forgive herself for. A broken memory she knew she caused. The memory was broken but she also knew, long season months ago, she broken your promised heart.

I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.

Take me back to the night we met.

Tara thought back to the day you two met, the day you became friends. The day that led to you falling to her years later. The day that led to her falling for you, then pushing you away.

The day that led to this.

If she could see your face one last time and kiss you, everything would be okay.

Tara knew that she was just too late, seeing the train long gone, tears in her eyes as she let out a choking sob, the letter falling out of her hand, long forgotten.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #vada cavell x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna marie ortega #tara carpenter x you #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n

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virgincels · 5 months

Text

HONEYTRAP !

ft. leon s. kennedy x reader x ashley graham

tags. p in v, threesome, president leon, daddy-daughter incest (ashley/leon not reader), voyeurism, oral

note. haiii :3 sorry for mistakes it’s unedited! not the proudest of this! got messy and clunky 😭 but rbs and feedback always so appreciated :3

tumblr has started to remove fics that for example use tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

“No, babe, it’s online, you can watch it, and can you tell Chris to watch it? I’m excited, I know he’s not happy about it, but, I am,” Claire’s voice is obfuscated by the chatter in the background, “This is a big deal for me, I mean—“ She cuts herself off, voice distant, “Oh, yes— No, not at all, it’s lovely to meet you—“

Beep!

You blink at your phone. She hung up on you. Granted, she’s been one busy bee so you let her off. For now. You shoot a message to Chris, tell him that as Claire said, this means a lot to her, and as tight as he is with the Kennedys, that she’s his sister, she should come first. You’re well aware that he knows that, that he wouldn’t dare put anyone above his sister, she’s at the centre of his world - it’s just for good measure.

The interview is lengthy, you suppress a groan because really you should very much be interested in the state of current affairs. And this is Claire’s line of work, and Claire is your girlfriend, and you should support her in her endeavours. Clicking on the link she’s forwarded opens up a grayscale website. The first video is President Kennedy in all his glory, which is not a lot of glory to be quite frank. He’s an eyesore to you. Like, that chin? Seriously? He should consider some sort of medical procedure, you don’t know if that’s a thing, but you know a girl who got her cleft lip fixed, so why not the chin?

Most of the video is full to the brim with political jargon that you fail to understand. Completely different language. Could understand Morse code better than this.

Skip, skip, skip.

“The issue with Penamstan? I hate to be rude, Mr. Kennedy,” No, she does not, Claire loves to be rude, “But do you know where that is on a map?” Claire, always straight to the point.

“I know all the stans,” President Kennedy smiles, charming and stupidly stupid all at once. He’s kind of cute when he smiles. It’s really just that chin. Very American though, you’ll give it to him. Named Kennedy too? America loves a Kennedy, he had it easy.

“What?” Not even an excuse me.

“Pakistan, Afghanistan, Kazakhstan, Penamstan… The, uh, more forgettable stans,” He trails off, taken off guard by a woman in a pantsuit leaning down to talk to him, a hand cupped over her mouth, he blinks up at her slowly, “Uz-beki-stan,” President Kennedy sounds out as if the word is foreign on his tongue, and it is, so incredibly foreign, “Turk… Turkmenistan, and Penamstan, of course.”

That’s all you needed to know he has the brain density of a wafer. Was the most interesting part though. He would’ve made a good stripper or a boy-toy, you think. Instead, he’s being marketed as this all-encompassing package of a man, which he is not.

Skip, skip, skip.

Penamstan— Foreign Policy— Penamstan— Voting— Penamstan— Radicalisation— Terrorism— Your predecessor, Graham— Sexual relations— Gaffe—

You pause, rewind a minute or so back. Sexual relations. This is what you’re into. No idea who Monica Lewinsky is, know all about the dress though.

“You’ve heard of the accusations, yes?” Claire frowns so much like Chris you have to turn away.

President Kennedy’s lack of jaw tightens, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him behave so offstandish in the fourteen minutes you’ve ever seen of him. “Yes.”

“You didn’t like that,” Claire notes, her lip twitching upwards.

“Didn’t know we had a psychologist with us today,” His lips are stretched thin into a smile that resembles a grimace more than anything. There’s scattered laughter, and the lady beside him, poised as ever, taps him on the shoulder. “My apologies,” He straightens up immediately, “Ask away.”

“Thank you,” She responds coolly when she is anything but, “You- I mean you have to admit that it’s strange to behave that way with your daughter of all people, otherwise there wouldn’t be accusations in the first place,” Claire challenges him with a tilt of her head, he mirrors it.

The lady taps his shoulder once more, leans down once more, whispers conspicuously, they nod to each other. A gesture to someone behind the camera is made, and then, much to Claire’s clear dismay: “We’re sorry to cut this short—“

The video ends, and the opening frame pops up once more. Huh. So President Kennedy is tonguing his daughter on the side. Maybe you need to pay more attention to things that are actually important, or you need to listen to Claire more often unless she’s failed to mention the most interesting part of whatever case she’s building. As far as you’re concerned, if voting doesn’t go in the red, you’re fine. Claire says being a centrist is the worst thing you can be, it’s just that you’ve got your own shit to worry about. Work, college, Claire, family. It takes up your life. You pitch in to vote for whoever’s democratic, watch the descent into chaos and forget about it in a week as most do, an attempt to forget the state of the country.

You wonder what she looks like. His daughter. If it’s worth risking the presidency over incest she must be a cutie. And she is indeed, cute like a teacup terrier, you can see why he’d be balls deep— but that is purely because you’re a bit of a horndog. Harvard Law School, a privilege you’re sure, girl looks like a total ditz. Barbie doll legs, the palest of blondes, and her smile is adorable. Not like her father’s smarmy one in the slightest, sweet and genuine for a girl whose teeth look done. Braces? Veneers? Not a single gap between them, not a single one out of place, not a single one is coffee stained.

The headlines pretty much say the thing. Kennedy fucks his daughter. Kennedy said she reminds him of Marilyn, so what does that make him if he’s a Kennedy? Truly, they harp on about it with no proof, apart from that photo of them too close for comfort— And the other one where they’re too close for comfort— And the last one where they’re too close for comfort.

Claire returns in the early hours of the morning, her jacket squeaks when she takes it off, hanging it the back of the vanity chair. She gets into bed, touches your hand to check if you're awake, her eyes sparkle even in the dark when she asks, “Did you see it?”

“Mhm,” You pinch her doughy cheek when she grins, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Claire says, head dipping to rest in the hollow of your neck, “I got cut off at the last minute.”

“I saw… He got touchy about the daughter-fucker thing.”

“He always does,” She huffs out air through her nose, “Only people who fuck their daughters get defensive when people accuse them of fucking their daughters. Oh, and his wife, she doesn’t go to a single event, it’s always Ashley, Ashley, Ashley— it’s so fucking strange.”

“True,” Your fingers slip beneath the loops of her hair tie, loosening her ponytail, sometimes you fear it’ll come off clean with how tight she makes it. It’s like Claire’s intention is to recede her hairline on purpose. “What can you do though, right?”

Her lack of response is eerie, you pass it off as her falling asleep. She’s had a long day, an exciting one at that, Claire’s likely just crashing. So you kiss her head, let her nestle into your chest, the spot where she’s most comfortable.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Giving your girlfriend the benefit of the doubt when she’s putting you up to the most outrageous scheme quite possibly ever is hard. “I have work, Claire.”

“Work can wait, babe, this is seriously important, it means a lot for America’s future,” Ugh, you don’t like when she talks like that. Sounds like a propaganda poster come to life.

“I don’t care about America’s future, I care about mine, babe, I care about ours, I don’t think Kennedy fucking his kid has anything to do with America’s future.”

“Babe, America’s future is our future,” She insists, “I won’t ask of you ever again,” Claire clasps her hands together, kneels in front of you as if you’re in fresco on the ceiling of a half-painted chapel, as if Claire Redfield, famous and outspoken atheist activist is the most pious woman to set foot in the USA.

“I have work, I have to get ready, I don’t have time for this.”

“See, this is what I mean, you’re so—“ Before her frustration reaches its boiling point, you watch Claire mouth the words one, two, three and onwards to fifteen. “Baby, darling,” She cups your cheeks, “This would mean the world to me when I say I would never bother you again with my shit, I promise. Pinky swear.”

“Don’t call me darling,” You wriggle out of her grip, “I can’t risk another day off, Claire.”

“There’s an opening in the office,” She offers, “It’s not much, but it’s better than what you’re doing now.”

“How so?” Your interest is piqued.

“Desk job,” Claire shrugs, “It’s easy, babe, you’re smart, too smart for retail.”

“I am too smart for retail,” You agree with a sigh, it keeps you on your feet all day, then you end up blowing your paycheck on pedicures.

“You are,” She coos, kissing the back of your hand as if you’re the most delicate thing since butterflies, “And you’ll do so well, that’s why I want you to do it, babe, ‘cause I just know you’re the only one who could do it,” Flattery does get Claire somewhere, it gets her in your good books, “The, uh, you don’t mind the, uh, y’know, incest part.”

“He’s not my dad, she’s not my sister.” Detaching yourself from the incestuous element would be best, you don’t know if you have a strong enough stomach to handle it in any other way.

“You can’t kiss me,” Claire frowns, her professional face on, “From now on, we can’t be seen with each other, okay?”

“Babe,” You pout, she scowls, “You look so good tonight, I don’t want to leave you.” The notched lapels of her suit make her shoulders look broader, you want to drag your nails over the cashmere, over her tender skin.

“Your name is on the guest list,” Your alias, she means, you don’t know how she did it, but Claire manages to manage, “Please…” Don’t fuck this up for me, you assume, “Good luck, okay?”

The security process is tedious, they drone on and on about a topic in which you have no knowledge, they pat you down— Should they be doing this to someone who might be an esteemed guest?

You pass through, the crowd is full of beautiful girls with made-up faces and dark ringlets and dresses like wedding cakes. There’s less than savoury men. She doesn’t stand out in a crowd like this, but you spot her anyway. Nobody in their right mind would wear that shade of orange. Ashley Kennedy, according to your girlfriend, is fucking her father, and so she is clinically and mentally and psychically and biologically and any other ally insane. So, yes, she would wear rust orange proudly, she would go out of her way to purchase a floor-length evening gown in that exact colour. Just to prove that, yes, she is indeed fucking her dad. Would calling it quits at this very moment be justifiable to Claire? Would your reasoning be enough to accuse a girl of fucking her father?

To your utter astonishment, both Mrs and Miss Kennedy approach you first, both as in Ashley. As she is both his wife and daughter if Claire’s deduction is correct.

“Hi,” Ashley’s smile is as perfect as it was in the tabloids, her skin is dewy, and her lashes light with no attempt to darken them. It would look unnatural.

“Hi,” You grin back at her, focus on the pendant that swings low, a silver eagle that sits cushdy between her perky tits.

“Daddy told me I had to—“ Her face drops for a split second, “Oops,” She covers her mouth, swallows back a nervous giggle, “Dad told me I had to socialise, make connections,” She imitates his formalities, “Oh, gosh, I am totally being so rude right now!” Ashley waves her hands at you, “My daddy- Dad is the president, sorry to come onto you like that like you were supposed to know, gosh, I’m Ashley by the way.”

“I know,” You take her hand in yours when she offers it, squeeze it warmly, “Don’t sweat it, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know you.”

“Right, right, I guess that’s true,” She hiccups, “Sorry, god, champagne, I’m so new to drinking, I really don’t think it’s for me.” This girl is making it too easy for you.

“You just haven’t tried the right one, I love your dress by the way, colour brings out your eyes.” Like how grass brings out the pumpkins on a pumpkin patch.

“Oh my goodness, thank you!” Ashley follows after you, lost and clinging to the person she has deemed friendliest.

“Have you ever had a French martini?”

“Oh, no, what’s that? It sounds exotic.” She’s bubbly, excitable, so sweet you almost feel bad setting her up like this.

“Do you like pineapple?”

Ashley ponders, “Only juice, eating pineapple eats at my tongue, I totally know that’s what it does, but still it feels so weird.”

“You’ll like this then.” You assure her, and she bobs her head up and down in agreement, her trust for you is unconditional within five minutes flat. Claire deserved that spot at Harvard.

“There’s vodka in it,” She hums, “Daddy,” Her third slip-up of the night, “Dad doesn’t even let me near vodka.”

“Really?” You raise a brow, then your glass and she does the same.

“Never, he sucks when it comes to me doing, like, adult things,” Her nose twitches at the first sip, she reminds you of a bunny, an energiser bunny.

“Like what?”

“Drinking, driving, partying,” Ashley lists off, “He’s okay, but he’s protective, I know it comes with, like, president’s daughter territory, it just totally sucks!”

Drinking, driving, partying— Dad doesn’t mind when she’s doing adult things like sucking his dick though. That’s not a problem!

“I like you,” Ashley says, two French martinis and one cosmopolitan in, “You’re so fun, I don’t really get to meet people other than, like, the one daddy introduces me to. Don’t get me wrong, I get it, I’m privileged so I talk to privileged people, but they’re so…”

“Stuck up,” You finish for her, “I didn’t expect you to be so sweet.”

“Oh, I can see why, I get it, I’m not offended or anything,” She sighs softly, gazes at the chandelier as if she longs for more than ball gowns and Havard and spending her days shifting idly through the clothing racks at Dolce & Gabbana while her daddy lounges on the chaise chairs. “I just think you’re so down to earth,” Poor thing, it’s a shame she’s fucking her dad, you hope to uncover an entirely different truth, that they’re close and it’s nothing more, “Who did you come with by the way?”

“I’m a plus one,” You knock back your drink, grip tightening on the glass, “No one important, just lucky, I guess.”

“Huh,” Ashley takes in your words, she nods, another drink slips down easily, and by the end of it, she is clinging to your arm like you mean the world to her, “You should sooo come back to my room!” Her words slur until her sentence is more of a single word, “We could have fun,” Whether she’s soliciting sex or she wants your company, you don’t mind, “Me and daddy are staying here tonight.”

“Really?” You ask, as if Claire hadn’t briefed you on the room number prior to this, “Then I guess I wouldn’t mind coming.”

“Yay!” Her security detail emerge from the crowd, and you’re dumb for not having noticed them beforehand, but what Ashley says goes. “Gosh, you don’t have to tell, daddy, he’s busy right now. No, we’ll be fine, you can leave us to it, when daddy’s done then he’ll come up.”

An elevator ride up and up and up to the top floor, through the stretch of hall to the finest suite. Ashley is high energy, for a lack of better words, she is tiring. She kicks off her heels, still stands tall, modelesque in shape. Boyish hips jutting out of her square torso. The key card is left on the side when she’s not paying attention, which luckily for you is most of the time, you slide it beneath the door frame and shoot a text to Claire who is hovering nearby. A minute later, she confirms her success.

“Ugh, I was so over it,” Ashley groans, “Do you mind helping me out of this?”

“Of course not,” You say smoothly, wondering if this is an invitation to something more. The silk of her dress is made by the wealthiest of silkworms, just as you get your hands on her, the door unlocks.

“Ashley,” President Kennedy is panting like he ran up all twenty-nine flights of stairs at the Fairmont, “Princess, you worried me.”

“Daddy, you scared me, you scared us,” She gasps, he’s swift in his steps, tips her chin upwards as if he’s checking for damage on her angel face, he thumbs her smeared lipstick.

“Did you kiss… Did you?” Kennedy’s eyes flit from your lips to Ashley’s, you wonder why he’s so wound up about a kiss, must be the incest. Her lipstick is smeared on the rim of her martini glass, not your lips.

“What? Daddy, no, don’t be silly, not yet at least,” She makes her intentions clear, “I thought you were busy, daddy.”

“Ashley, I’m not too busy for you, I have things to oversee, but…”

As your father, I have to oversee your sex life, Ashley! I demand to watch!

“But, what?” Ashley cocks her head to the side, her hands running along the shape of his shoulders, then downwards over his chest.

“You’re more important, you know that.” Kennedy strokes her head, she bats her lashes at him, they’re barely visible so it’s more a flurry of blinks.

“Oh, daddy, you’re so sweet,” She giggles, puckers her lips and the sentiment is shared between them— They kiss like lovers do, dirtier than you and Claire. Unaffected, Ashley looks over his shoulder at you, “We can still have fun,” She promises, “Daddy can just watch, won’t you?”

Jesus Christ. Now that you’re actually faced with it. Incest in the flesh. It’s nerve-wracking. How is one meant to digest incest?

“Ashley, I don’t watch you catching anything nasty,” He tries to be discreet, you hear him loud and clear.

“Daddy,” She scolds, hitting his chest. He shucks off his suit jacket, laying it out on the back of the chair adjacent to the Alaskan king bed that could fit a family of five let alone the three of you. He sits, stares at you with his glassy eyes. President Kennedy is handsome in real life, you kind of get the appeal now, the camera does add ten pounds, ages him by ten years too apparently. There is something about him that is effortlessly masculine yet soft, sweet almost.

Ashley’s dress comes off next, she cares little for the way it is left wrinkled on the ground, her hand finds its way between your thighs. She’s not inexperienced. She knows her way around your body like she would her father’s. Her fingers are long and slim, nimble when the pads come to ghost your clit, lifting back the hood to press her thumb into it.

Instinctively, your hips buck into her hand, she kisses you, smiling into your mouth. Claire is at the forefront of your mind, she’d given you the permission to do this, but it feels wrong still. The incest feels even worse. You’ve been trying to ignore it so far, pretend it’s just Ashley here. Ashley’s lips on yours, her fingers in your cunt, her tits pressed flush to your chest— His eyes are so blue.

Ashley scissors you open with two fingers, you suck on her tit, both of you tangled up within each other. Pulling off with a pop, she takes out her fingers and you’re left empty. You taste yourself on her tongue, on her fingers and grow sick of it.

“C’mere,” You take the pillow that’s propped up against the headboard and slot it underneath her hips to keep ‘em raised. Ashley’s cunt is perfect like the rest of her. You wonder if there are procedures to get it this pink, her labia pokes out past her parted pussy lips as does her swollen clit, you give a tentative lick to her cunt, unsure of how she likes it. Claire likes it messy, but Ashley’s rich, she might like it classy. You could eat pussy classy if you tried hard enough.

She lies back, her head sunken into the mass of pillows - the one you had taken barely left a dent in the pile, her tits are small but round and her nipples are pointed and as pink as her pussy. Ashley takes initiative, daddy’s been giving it to her real sloppy it seems, ‘cause she pushes your face into it. Your nose bumps her clit and she sighs sweetly when your tongue works its merry way up her slit, from her slick hole to her twitching bud that you pay extra special attention to. It deserves it, pretty like a pearl, wrap your lips around it and suck till her thighs close around your head.

“Outta the way,” Mr. President, fully clothed, cock hard straining in his slacks, takes Ashley’s leg and spreads her further, “Keep it there for daddy, princess.”

When you lift your head out of pure curiosity, he kisses you, jams his tongue into your mouth to taste you like your tongue wasn’t just jammed in his daughter’s cunt. His daughter who is spread-eagle on the bed for The United States of America. Though, from the way they’re behaving, Ashley is a renowned patriot, this isn’t her first time confessing her love for all things red, white, and blue. And rust orange.

Dumbfounded by his takeover of the pussy you were having so much fun eating, you crawl back over to Ashley while daddy blows raspberries on her clit, spits on the First Daughter’s, his first daughter’s, cunt like she’s a corner whore.

“Daddy,” Ashley moans, she’s unabashed, grabs his hair and forces him deeper, she tells you to suck on her tits, she’s bossy when it comes to sex. Mastered the art of fucking.

“I’ve got you, princess,” Her daddy says, he can talk while he’s eating it, impressive if you do say so yourself. The most you can do is go down on Claire till you get lightheaded, breathing is out of the question.

She cums sweetly because there is no other way in which Ashley can behave. The blood that runs through her is inherently sweet unlike her father’s. Mr. Kennedy slurps away even as she jolts due to aftershocks, he’s intent on drying her out.

When he does decide to join the two of you above, it’s to press kisses into Ashley’s neck, to sniff her perfume, “Good girl,” He praises, “Daddy’s good girl.” Those lines sound like something out of a cheap porno. Hard to believe that it’s real. That you seriously just sat there and got cucked by Ashley’s father.

“Thank you, daddy,” Ashley giggles, stroking through his dark hair as he suckles on her nipple, spit stringy on his lips and her breast when he pulls back. “No, not me,” She refuses when he, with his slacks mid-thigh, presses his cock to her inner thigh, “I want to watch you, daddy.”

See, you’ve taken dick, you take Claire’s silicone dick often. Taking presidential dick, it’s new to you. Presidential dick that could’ve possibly at any time today been lodged inside his little girl, meaning you’re being double dicked not only by a presidential cock, but an incestuous one. It’s fat, browner than it is pink, uncut, the tip is leaky like nobody’s business.

“Aw, oh my gosh,” Ashley coos, “Don’t be scared, you’ve got this!” Your nerves don’t stem from taking his mediocre, prized dick, but from everything else about this situation. “Daddy’s good at it, it never hurts.” She holds your hand, brings it to her lips to kiss, fluffs the pillows and peppers kisses all over your face as President Kennedy, a man of assumed integrity pushes your legs to your chest.

His cock rubs up and down your cunt, catches on your clit, the fat tip is sucked into your stretched hole and inch by inch he forces his way into your hole. With each inch, not that there’s many, it gets thicker, till the base is engulfed into your greedy pussy. Ashley wipes the sweat from your brow, “Isn’t it good?” She gushes, “Daddy’s just the best, I don’t think I could ever be with anyone else, he’s just so good at it, isn’t he?” In response to her blabbing, you can only whimper, giving a quick bob of your head to satisfy her.

Inside of you, each vein embeds itself into your walls, the head jabs at your cervix painfully, and most of all it feels stupidly good. His cock is thick and sturdy like all good dicks should be. And he’s fucking you like he hates you. Which he does. Deep, hard, slow and nasty.

“Is it good, daddy?” Ashley asks innocently enough, her hand rests on your tummy, grows bored and trails lower to flick at your clit.

“Not as good as you, princess, never,” Comes his instant answer. You take offence to this and clench around him so tight he groans and his head drops to your neck, lips on your collarbone. There’s a sticky sound each time he draws his hips back and pushes in, you’re dripping for Ashley, for him— You don’t know anymore, head so clouded you’ve let the incest slip.

“Aw, daddy!” She places a hand over her heart, then she’s back to pinching your clit between her fingers, forcing you to unravel.

His thrusts are deliberate, mean, and he fucks you like it’s all your fault. As if he doesn’t get to hump Ashley at all times of the day. The squelch of your cunt is embarrassing enough for you to be over and done with, each stroke is a hit on your ego and on your cervix, the latter being a more delicious hit, but a hit nonetheless. When he cums, he does it on your stomach in white, watery ropes, and it pools in your belly button as you writhe with the immense pleasure he and his disgusting cock have bought you. Ashley’s bony fingers helped to some degree.

“Is it my turn now?” Ashley perks up when her dad kisses her all sloppy on the mouth, spit and drool included.

“Give daddy a minute, princess, I can’t keep up with you,” He chuckles, pats her head, they’ve started their incestuously affectionate display, so you cover yourself up and shoot Claire a second message while they begin to act lovey-dovey in bed. Let their guard down, and you hate to do this to such a lovely girl, but your girlfriend is an even lovelier girl.

Soon enough, she and the gaggle of reporters burst through the doors, flashing cameras in hand. Ashley was foolish for letting off her security detail for the night, President Kennedy is the bigger fool, and Claire, well, you’ve never seen her smile so big.

#leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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juanarc-thethird · 3 months

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If interested please DM him

Nora: How was your Valentine's Day?

Jaune: Um... Normal.

Nora: You didn't ask a girl out?

Jaune: No...

Nora: Why not?

Jaune: Because no one is interested in me?

Nora: What?! How is that possible?!

Jaune: Trust me, it is possible.

Nora: Not on my watch! *Leaves*

Jaune: Hey! Where are you going?! *Sighs* Whatever, it's not my problem.

The next day....

Jaune: *Reading a book*

*Ting!*

Jaune: Huh? *Checks his phone* An unknown message?

*Ting!* *Ting!* *Ting!*

Jaune: More?

*Ting!Ting!Ting!Ting!Ting!Ting!*

Jaune: What the?

*TING!TING!TING!TING!TING!TING!TING!TING!TING!TING!TING!TING!*

Jaune: WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!!

Momentas later

JNPR's Room

Nora: *Playing games on her phone while lying in bed*

Jaune: *Shows up* *Angry* What did you do?!

Nora: Do what?

Jaune: You know very well what I mean. What did you do?!

Nora: I seriously don't know what you're talking about.

Jaune: I'm talking about this!

Jaune shows his phone, still being bombarded by messages from unknown numbers.

Jaune: Why do I have a bunch of strangers asking me on a date?!

Nora: *Excited* Really?! That means that my post worked!

Jaune: *Confuse* What post?

Nora: This one!

She selects something on her phone and shows it to Jaune.

"Do you want a Man that has abs? Do you want a man that can cook? Do you want a man that is literally the dream house husband?! Well look no further.

Jaune Arc, the only son of the Arc Family.

Let's talk about features: - Power: No - Money: No - A car: No - Great confidence: Nope... but he has a humongous dick that makes up for everything else.

Let me tell you a story. One day I entered the bathroom without checking to see if anyone was there using it. And when I did it, he poked my eye. "With what?" you might ask. I think we both already know answer to that.

You can present him to your parents, to your sibling who never stops bothering you that you are single and alone, to your weird creepy uncles, to your gossiping fat aunts, to your racist grandmother who no one dares to tell her to stop saying rude things, because for some reason everyone is afraid of her. And I can assure you that all of them will change their ways when they see what a good boy this man is. God damn it! Everyone will want to protect this golden retriever of a person!

Good boy Approved!!

Things this man is old enough to do: - Vote: Yes - Consent to Sex: Yes - Becoming Huntsmen: HE IS ALREADY A HUNTSMEN!

This man has history. He's seen some shit. He has done "things" for his friends. He has killed for his friends. He will not judge you like other people.

Interesting facts: - He is a good boy on the outside, but he is a beast on the inside~ *Wink* *Wink* - He is an Arc, so he is designed for breeding. - He holds the record for most boxes of cereal consumed in one day!

What more can you ask for?!

Look...

Let's face the facts. He may not be the most beautiful person in the world, but you aren't either (I mean that's why you're still single). So stop lying to yourself and stop lying to your mom about that "guy" you met at the supermarket. (We both know that's a lie). He may be too good for you, but he's really desperate. So send him a message and try your luck.

Jaune Arc 206-XXX-XXXX"

Nora: What do you think? Very cool, right?

Jaune:...

Jaune: Am I a joke to you?

#jaune arc #jaune #rwby jaune arc #rwby jaune #nora #nora valkyrie #rwby nora #rwby nora valkyrie #rwby #rwby shitpost #I don't know what the hell I'm doing

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bones4thecats · 3 months

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OL! S/O Defends Angel from Valentino

Type of Writing: Random Idea Characters: Valentino, Vox, Carmilla Carmine, and Alastor Name: OL! S/O Defends Angel from Valentino Idea-Gifter: Random Thoughts

A/N: I'm sure you you can tell that Alastor is one of my favorites because of how long his part is in comparison to the rest. That and I love torturing Valentino, he needs something to scare him straight. I vote in Season 2, Niffty or Alastor scares the shit outta him again

⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of SA, and Death ⚠️ Spoilers for: S1 ⚠️

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

Bat-Demon! Reader ; Little Brown Bat

❣️ You had been in business with your boyfriend for quite a while, and you understood barely anything of how he treated his workers

❣️ Specifically, how he treated Angel Dust

❣️ Angel and you had gone back to the years when you were alive, working together within his family's mafia. Though, the he went by the name Anthony instead of the drug-induced one

❣️ And while you were used to his very flirty and shameless personality, you could read people like a book. You were so good at reading people, that even Alastor noticed you and would praise you on your abilities

❣️ So, when you noticed Angel walking out of his dressing room after Valentino with his eyes blasted open and a small amount of blood on his arm, you began to question your boyfriend

❣️ And in retaliation to letting it sit, you waited until the rest of his employees had either retired for the night or had left the studio

❣️ Grabbing your pen and a piece of paper before writing a note and teleporting it to your friend Rosie that you wouldn't be able to join her and Alastor for tea that night due to some last minute changes, you readied yourself

❣️ You had noticed that Angel and Valentino had walked into his room earlier that afternoon and hadn't come out for around an hour

❣️ Because of your earlier suspicions, you mentally prepared yourself for any kind of sight. But to amount of time to prepare could help fix what you had seen

❣️ Kicking open the door when it wouldn't open, you eyes shot open in shock as Valentino laid upon Angel, torturing the poor spider-sinner to pieces with his touches

❣️ Your pupils dilated, covering your entire eyes as your wings flared up in anger while you hissed with your teeth bared. It was at that moment you realized you had pulled and knocked Valentino down and stood in front of Angel Dust, defending him

❣️ Protecting him

❣️ Valentino stood up in anger, yelling at you for what you had done. But once he saw just how mad you were, he froze in fear. It was at that moment he remembered, he was no longer the top dog here. You were

❣️ Bats are known to tear apart and feast on moths such as himself, and while he never has seen your full demon form, he now regretted ever looking at you. You were truly horrifying, much like your friend the Radio Demon

" If you ever, ever, dare to touch Angel Dust in such a way; I will tear your soul apart and allow Alastor to blare your screams across Hell for all to hear. I'm sure he'd be fine with it... he was with the last three who disobeyed my warnings. "

❣️ Your boyfriend tensed as you stepped closer and pulled him down by his wings to look into your eyes;

" Am I clear, Valentino? " " Y-Yes, ma'am. " " Good. Now get the fuck out. And to make sure you truly understand my warning, I want you to get rid of Angel's contract. Whether you like it or not. " " But I can't just- " " Must I repeat my last warning? " " No. "

❣️ With that word, Valentino pulled out Angel's contract, the pink chain wrapping around the spider-demon's neck then starting to fade away as the contract faded into nothingness, like it always should've been

" Good boy. And by the way, we're done. I am not going to ally myself with someone as heinous as you. And that's coming from someone who is friends with the Radio Demon. "

❣️ Valentino, now your ex-boyfriend, glared at the ground as your demon-form cooled away as you teleported Angel's things and yours before leaving in a cab to the Hazbin Hotel

" That son of a bitch will know his place. And that little whore will also observe how I'll teach them to obey me. One way or another, I will get my hands on them... no matter the cost... "

Technology-Demon! Reader ; Cyber-security

📺 All Vox has heard for days was about how much of a 'little bitch' his spouse was, and how Valentino wished he had murdered the Overlord long before they gained the rank

📺 To say the technology-demon was upset about the claim was an understatement, rather, he was beyond pissed that the moth-Overlord had the audacity to say those things about his S/O to his face

📺 He had been gone for a few meetings for a couple days, and when he arrived again only to find his room bare of anything related to you got him worried; what had he done?

📺 Grabbing his phone, he dialed your number, already preparing his questions for you.

" Hello? " " Y/N! Where in the name of everything unholy are you?! I come home from two days of work only to find all of your stuff gone from our room?! What did I do wrong? "

📺 He could hear another voice in the background, and he could also hear you using your powers to create something and his mind began to run at 400+ miles an hour

" Who is that? " " It's Angel Dust, y'know the guy who works for Valentino. Or rather, worked for Valentino. "

📺 Okay, now you've officially lost him. How would Angel even manage to quit working for the moth-demon, all the Vees knew that Angel Dust had been sighed under contract for Val to own his soul, how would he get it back?

📺 Vox quickly connected the dots; you were a cyber-security demon. And you were also an Overlord. It was in your blood to protect those that you held dear, whether it be information or another being, you always guarded it

📺 So, it would make sense for you to see danger in how Valentino treated Angel Dust, so, you would've stepped in to defend him, resulting in a meltdown from the Overlord, causing you to leave with your friend

" Where are you guys? " " I can't say, Vox. But, I can meet you sometime soon. Just, not right now. Not while Valentino is still ripe from our discussion. "

📺 Now, to say he was getting annoyed was a hint of a overstatement, he could understand why you didn't want him to know. You understood how he thought better than anyone, you knew that somehow he blabber about where you and the sinner were, resulting in Valentino attempting to kill you both

📺 Vox sighed and gripped his VoxTek phone tightly, making a small crack noise echo from it and through his sound-grabbers he used for ears on his TV-head

" Understood. But, how about tomorrow? Or next week? Whatever works, dear. " " We can try after tomorrow, I want to help Angel settle. " " That's fine. But- please be safe. " " When am I not? " " Just!- Just stay safe, damn it. "

Dancer-Demon! Reader ; Contemporary Dancing

🩰 She was surprised when you had come home with the spider demon she learned was named Angel Dust one night

🩰 You had small cuts on your legs while Angel had many different injuries on him, and when she noticed how you were trying to keep the sinner alive, she ordered for her followers to help heal him while she took care of you

🩰 While Carmilla healed you up, she had asked why you brought home Valentino's worker, claiming that he was supposedly staying at the Hazbin Hotel and not somewhere else

" I had walked in their to hand Valentino some paperwork I needed him to fill out in order to manage the territories, but when I noticed he was gone and that Angel's door was cracked open, I got curious. "

🩰 She looked up at you as she wrapped more bandages around your midsections, prompting you to inhale slightly before continuing your story

" And when I heard the cries of Angel Dust's while Valentino's crude and horrid mouth spewed those nasty words as he continued his touches on him, I just- I felt the urge to protect him, as if he was our daughters. "

🩰 Carmilla smiled slightly at the mention of her daughters. She knew you were protective of them, and her to a degree, but hearing that you had the urge to protect him and them, the parental urge to protect the three, it just made her happy

🩰 Before she could finish her reply, her daughter Odette walked in and told her that Angel Dust was resting in a spare room and that Clara was just making sure he was okay

🩰 The powerful Overlord smiled and nodded to her daughter, allowing the blonde-demon to slip outside to allow you both to continue your conversation

" My love, while I am happy that you would protect Clara and Odette as your own. I am quite puzzled. Why would you risk yourself just for some random sinner you had no closeness to beforehand? " " I'm not sure myself, I just moved without any hesitation, like you did during Extermination last year. When you protected the girls from the angel. "

🩰 Her eyes slightly widened at the mention of that day, the day that she realized an exorcist could be killed by the same weapon that they yielded

🩰 But, she smiled again and pulled the ties out from her hair, allowing the two spikes to fall down behind her back. She was getting ready to rest for the night, after all, dealing weapons was tiresome

" Y/N, I understand why you protected him. And yes, it is quite similar to how I protected the girls. But, remember, do not fight with pure blood-lust, fight for those you care for. " " I did. For Angel Dust. " " Understood. Now, how about we rest for a while? After all, performing with your kind of dance-style would make you tense when dealing with such an arrogant being. "

Mammal-Demon! Reader ; White-Tailed Deer

🔘 Alastor knew that you viewed many members of the Hotel as dear friends or rarely family, though you seemingly had been getting closer to that flirty spider-demon as of late

🔘 What was his name again? Ah, right. Angel Dust, like the old drug

🔘 Your husband also knew just how protective you were of those close to you. He remembers vividly watching you maul some random demon because he tried touching Niffty

🔘 Ah, what fond memories!

🔘 But, when you had come back to the Hotel with cuts alongside your arms and one prominent one against your eye, his ears trailed backwards and his antlers began to slightly enlarge

🔘 He speed-walked up to you as Charlie dealt with Angel's injuries with Husk and Vaggie's help, dragging you back to your shared room

" Darling, what in the name of Hell happened? " " It was nothing, my love. " " Bullshit. Who did this to my beautiful spouse? Names. "

🔘 Alastor stared at you with his pupils slowly changing into dials. While he knew that he wasn't going to scare you fully, he noticed how you held yourself against his gaze; strongly but with some hesitation

" Dearest, names if you don't wish for something truly bad to happen to whoever I suspect is behind this treachery. "

🔘 You sighed and began to slouch, making your husband's eyes widen and ears to twitch up in surprise, you never slouches like this unless you fought against some exorcists in the Extermination

🔘 He sat beside you, laying his microphone staff on the end of the bed as he grabbed your chin lightly, pulling it for you to look at him. And he asked you the question, this time with a far more gentle tone, a soft tone of radio music playing in the background as his smile lowered just slightly

" Y/N, do tell me. I just want to know who had harmed you in such a way. " " ... Valentino. "

🔘 The sound of a radio screeching echoed through the Hotel, putting everyone in a state of slight fear, that sound was never something to take lightly when it would come from the Radio Demon

" As in our fellow Overlord, Valentino? " " Yes. " " And what pray tell did that sloppy wretch do to you, darling? Well, you and Angel Dust. " " Well... I had arrived to bring Angel back to the Hotel, since I needed to speak to him about stuff, but when I noticed he was still inside, I went to go grab him. "

🔘 Alastor nodded along as you spoke, his smile had almost formed a frown at the mention of V Tower, the shit-showy building that his arch-enemy Vox and his little allies lived inside of

" I had walked to his dressing room and when I heard the sounds of Angel's cries, I couldn't stop myself from going crazy and beginning to torture the soul of Valentino's. But, he is still alive. I didn't want Vox up my ass about something like that... especially about someone so- so fucking shitty. "

🔘 He returned his full smile and hummed in agreement. He wasn't fond of most of his fellow Overlords, the only ones he really didn't hate would be Zestial, Rosie, Carmilla, and you

🔘 Alastor then hugged you, playing a small tune, a favorite of yours, and stood up with you in his arms before kissing your forehead

🔘 You were the only person he had ever felt any kind of feeling towards in years, and he wasn't going to let some fucking bastard tear your joyful self from him like nothing. Not if he had a say in it that is

🔘 But, he can put his blood-lust and wish for revenge behind him in favor of comforting you in the form of a small dance and sing-along with you in your bedroom

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