#but as I grew up and more and more hard times came I

[inkedinshadows]

The Value of Love

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand's sister!reader

A/N: Thank you @batboyslutt for this request! I had so many different ideas for it, but unfortunately I could choose only one. I hope you enjoy it! 🫶🏻 and sorry for posting it later than usual, but I'm writing these day by day

Prompts: "We shouldn't be doing this. This is wrong." + "Why can't you just admit the truth?" + angst + smut + forbidden romance because of Rhys

Warnings: smut, p in v, creampie, bit of miscommunication, arguments

Word count: 1.5k

Azriel’s kisses grew more insistent as his mouth trailed down to your neck, nipping at the soft skin there. Your eyes were closed, your hands tangled in his hair, sliding down his back, holding onto him like you never wanted to let go.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he mumbled against your skin, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t even lift his head from the crook of your neck. “This is wrong.”

So he’d said—multiple times already.

You rolled your eyes. “Azriel,” you groaned. You cupped his cheeks and forced him to meet your gaze. “If you say that one more time while you’re balls-deep inside me, I am going to leave. Is that clear?”

Azriel’s hips faltered mid-thrust, then stilled, though he didn’t pull out. His breath was ragged, his eyes wide, his hair thoroughly mussed from your fingers running through it.

For a moment, you just stared at each other.

It was an argument you’d had more than once before, and you knew this wouldn’t be the last time. But for him to bring it up during sex? That, you would not stand for.

Azriel closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He lowered his head to rest his forehead on your chest, his breath warm against your flushed skin. “I’m sorry, princess.”

You sighed. Careful not to brush against his slumped wings, you wrapped your arms around him and tugged him closer.

“Let’s not talk about this right now,” you murmured. These were some of the last few moments you’d have together before he left for the continent, and you had no intention of wasting them on the same old conversation. “I think we were in the middle of something.”

Azriel lifted his head to look at you, gratitude flickering in his gaze before a smirk bloomed on his beautiful face. “Yes, we were.”

He rolled his hips once, driving himself deeper inside you, and you gasped softly. From there, it was easy to forget the last couple of minutes and focus on nothing but each other.

Azriel resumed his movements, thrusting into you with slow, deep strokes that drew groans from both of you. Each sound was swallowed by a kiss—lips and tongues eager to meet, hands wandering across hard planes and soft curves. Your bodies moved together as if they were made for this, as if you and he were the only beings in the whole world and nothing else mattered.

Pleasure coiled tight in your core, ready to snap with each deliberate thrust. A whispered plea was all Azriel needed to pick up the pace. He brushed his lips up your jaw to your ear, murmuring quiet encouragements and tender words that made your heart swell.

With a breathy moan, you squirmed beneath him, fingers digging into the muscles of his arms as pleasure overwhelmed you. Azriel was close behind you, your release tipping him over the edge as well. He rocked his hips a few more times before spilling himself inside you, holding himself there for a moment, panting against your ear as you both slowly came down from your high.

You turned your head to capture his lips in another kiss, trying to convey everything you felt for him through that simple gesture—the affection, the desire, the emotions you still hadn’t voiced aloud.

Azriel kissed you back, pressing you into the mattress before rolling onto his side. He opened his arms, and you immediately snuggled closer, curling up against his chest. He kissed the top of your head, and for a few moments, you simply lay there, basking in the quiet afterglow.

But as the minutes ticked by and the lingering passion faded, his words crept back into your mind. You tried to push them away, to focus on the steady rise and fall of his chest and the lazy strokes of his hand along your back, but they refused to leave.

You hesitated briefly before speaking, your voice quiet. “Why can’t you just admit the truth?”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s just…” You searched for the right words, trying not to sound too confrontational. “You always say you don’t want my brother to know because he’s very protective of me, but I think there’s more to it.”

Azriel hummed, seemingly unconvinced. “And what do you think it is, then?”

“I think you’re scared,” you admitted. “Scared of how he’d react if he found out. That he’d tell you you don’t deserve to be with me and that I should find someone else.”

His hand stilled where it had been tracing slow circles on your hip. His expression was unreadable, his golden-brown eyes fixed on you for a long moment. Then, without a word, he pulled away. Sitting up against the headboard, his wings stretched wide behind him, casting shadows over the sheets.

“That’s not what this is about,” he said. His voice was firm, but his gaze didn’t meet yours.

You pushed yourself up as well, keeping your eyes on him. You had thought about this for a long time now—how your brother would react if he knew about your relationship. You weren’t naive. You knew Rhys would be furious at first. But you also knew he would come around and realize that his little sister was grown, that he couldn’t keep males away from her forever. That she could choose for herself who to love.

“Az,” you called, taking his hand in yours. You waited until he finally looked at you again before you continued. “I know telling him might seem terrifying, but Rhys would be happy to know it’s you. You’re his best friend, and I’m his sister. If we make each other happy, why would he be against it?”

Azriel shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”

That excuse again. It’s not that simple. You make it sound so easy. You don’t understand. He wouldn’t understand. Always the same words, but never a real answer.

And you were growing tired of it.

Frustration flared hot in your chest as you pulled your hand back.

“Then explain it to me,” you demanded. Your tone was sharper than intended, but you didn’t particularly care anymore. “Because from where I’m standing, the only other explanation is that you value Rhysand’s friendship more than… whatever this thing between us is.”

Azriel’s brow knitted together, his expression torn between confusion and disbelief. “You know what this is, princess. You know I love you.”

“So you’ve said.”

The words hung heavy in the air. You saw the flicker of hurt in his hazel eyes, and your chest ached in response. But you didn’t take it back. You couldn’t.

“What is that supposed to mean?” His voice was quieter now, cautious.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold his gaze and push the words out. “It means that saying the words isn’t enough. You have to show me. And right now, you’re not doing a great job.”

Azriel inhaled sharply, as if stung. “At least I love you.”

The moment the words left his lips, regret flashed across his face. But it was too late.

They landed like a blade to the chest, slicing through the last thread of your patience.

“Y/N, I—”

You batted away the hand he reached toward you and instead got up to collect the clothes scattered on the floor.

“I do love you, Azriel,” you said, voice tight as you yanked your underwear back on. “But do you want to know why I never told you?”

He looked startled by your declaration at first, but he quickly nodded when he realized you were waiting for an answer.

“Because I didn’t want to get hurt,” you admitted, fingers swiftly buttoning up your shirt. "Because you want to keep this a secret, while I think that what we have is worth so much more than just a few stolen moments in the dark.” You slipped into your trousers, your eyes still on him. “Because I’m tired of hiding from my friends and family just because you’re scared of how my brother might react.”

Azriel said nothing. His jaw was tense, his gaze locked onto the crumpled blankets, refusing to meet your gaze.

Despite the ache in your heart, you stepped back toward the door.

“I won’t hide anymore,” you went on. “Not when it makes you miserable, but you refuse to change it. It's making me miserable too.” You let out a deep breath. “You have to make a choice, Azriel. But if you really love me like you say you do… then it should be an easy one.”

Your fingers curled around the doorknob. Still, he didn’t look at you—didn’t try to talk you out of it, to convince you to stay, to stop you from leaving.

Your blood boiled in your veins.

“Good luck on your mission,” you spat, slamming the door behind you.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret

1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

[isaspsp]

I think my parents did pretty similar things. I'm feeling sensitive right now so, story sharing time.

I did misbehave every now and then, as all kids do. I don't remember this incident, but my mom does. I was doing whatever naughty thing, and she hit me to make me stop and discipline me. I stopped, started crying, and went away. My mom never hit me after that. She says it's one of her biggest regrets.

I remember when we got our big TV. I was maybe 8-9 and we had been at the store all day. I wasn't particularly interested in picking out a TV cus that seemed like adult business, and children have no right to poke their nose of that. But then, my dad crouches next to me, points to the final two tvs they were deciding between, and asked me which one I thought was best. And I do remember asking, "Why are you asking me this? I am a child." He laughed and said something among the lines of, "Children are always honest." And that gave me all the confidence and reassurance to choose what would be our TV for the next 10+ years.

They took the effort to see my side aswell. I grew up with my cousins. We were 6 kids in total, and with two of them being older, we 4 youngsters played together a lot. Of these four, the oldest used to bully me a lot (I bit him really hard once as revenge, but that is another story) and I had two younger cousins, the youngest of which, was the one I saw most often. He would come with us to trips and such. But he was the younger child, so he had preferences over me. If I had anything he wanted, I HAD to share. If he wanted to sit where I was, I had to move, lest he makes a fuss. But, if he had something that I wanted? He was under no obligation to share. It was Easter time, I was about 13 (?), and we had gotten ourselves fancy chocolate eggs. My aunt had gone along with us to shop. I'd done my research at the site of the store we were going to, so I knew exactly what I wanted. My aunt didn't know what to get my cousin, so she followed my lead and got him the same two eggs. My aunt used to be paid to clean our house once in a while and just so happened that that week my little cousin had come along. I was going to travel that weekend, and my eggs would be left behind, I'd only have them when we came back. So, having been thinking and fantasizing about the chocolate eggs for weeks, I sneaked around, opened one of the boxes, grabbed a piece, ate some, and put the rest in the refrigerator My aunt saw me do this. Later, my parents confronted me about it; my aunt had told them what happened, that I tried to hide just so I wouldn't have to share. I started crying about how if I didn't sneak around I would've had to share with my cousin, who had the exact same egg at his home, who wouldn't have to wait to come back from a trip, and that I would never get the same kindness back, the piece he would've taken from me, the egg that I so researched to get, that I beheaved and did well in school to get, I would have to give away, even if it was a small piece, and tgat, even if I asked nicely, my cousin wouldve said no, and nothing would be done anout it. And the damn was broken, so I mentioned also all the other times I had to give in because I was older, he was younger and I was bigger and could hurt him more. They looked at each other... and agreed with me. I was forced to share less after that. I still shared, of course, but now... I wasn't forced as much. (At least by my parents, we couldn't control everyone or course u_u)

I genuinely remember very VERY few times of my parents taking away my stuff or banning m3 from activities. If I remember at all, because all I have are "vague feelings" that it happened. And honestly, I think I turned out better for it.

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[ishasturnz]

‘ Awkward Apologies ‘

dividers by:@ianrkives

authors note: i’m really hoping my smut writing is good because i genuinely don’t know how smut writers do it..

Summary: A few weeks ago when you and Chris thought you were gonna be home alone after matt left with nick, Unannounced Nick came back home early and walked in on you and Chris…

Contains: porn without plot, getting caught, ROUGHHH sex, nick being dramatic.

word count: 722

character count: 3271

4:57 PM

“Nick and I are heading out to grab some Cane's; we'll be back soon,” Matt announced, his voice full of annoyance as he jingled his keys and checked that his wallet was tucked securely in his pocket. Nick, a few steps behind, Just stood with a stupid smile on his face after bugging Matt about getting canes.

“Alrighty, it’s not like we’re even going anywhere so the door should be unlocked by the time you guys get here.” My was tone neutral since me and Chris were watching a movie on the TV.

5:25 PM

The bed creaked loudly under the weight of both our bodies

Chris pounds into you mercilessly as you moan louder. “couldn’t- fuck… FUCK y/n- couldn’t wait until they left..” Chris groaned and railed into you harder from behind.

He pushes your back down so it arches more somehow making him go deeper than before and making his cock hit magic spots you didn’t even know existed.

“Fuh- fuck!” You moaned, no screamed out in pure bliss. You swore sometimes you could feel his cock pick at your heart sometimes.

His Hand grips onto the headboard of his bed which was unbelievably hitting the wall hard. Most likely leaving a dent in it.

Almost hard enough to probably break the bed in general.

Our noises somehow grew louder and louder each and every second. The sheets practically were covered in sweat, drool, tears, and other substances.

The one thing we should’ve heard, we missed.

Nick opening the entrance door.

He most likely had already gotten an earful of unholy noises coming from Chris’s room starting from when he opened the door and passed his room.

6:01 PM

Nick started to approach Chris’s room, not even thinking about the unholy scene he was about to witness.

The doorknob twisted and opened to a very traumatized-looking Nick— “What the FUCK!”

Me and Chris quickly pulled our bodies apart from where they met and scrambled up the blankets to cover our nude bodies up.

“Nick why the fuck are you back so early?!” Chris yelled while covering himself up from being exposed to his brother.

“The real question is, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS FUCKING?!” Nick screaming out of pure disgust and disdain.

“I thought you guys weren’t coming back until later on?!” I screamed, holding up the blanket over my bare breasts and lower body.

“You guys are legitimately fucking SICKENING.” Nick sternly spoke before slamming Chris’s door for us to do whatever we had to do after.

A day after

My thoughts continued to spiral around the fact Nick caught me and Chris in the most intimate way possible.

Every time we saw each other we couldn’t even look into each other’s eyes.

After begging Chris to take me to ShopRite to buy cake mix and frosting he finally agreed to do so.

“You realize he probably forgot already right?” Chris drove keeping one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh gently squeezing.

“That doesn’t matter Chris, that’s like saying I’d forget when you thought it’d be a good idea to put paper towels in the oven.” My voice still a bit worn out from the acts that happened a day prior. “Those two things literally don’t correlate at all.”

“—Thats not the point..!” I didn’t yell loud enough to be considered screaming just loud enough to be considered as whiny.

Back at the house, 2:37 PM

Chris helped me bake the cake while Nick was still out at a meeting, Matt was asleep probably not going to wake up until 3:00.

We frosted it and put writing on it so the apology wasn’t as verbal since it’d be a bit awkward saying it out loud.

4:06 PM

Nick was finally back in the house, I waited till I heard him go upstairs and close his door before running to the kitchen and opening the fridge.

I left the casing on so nothing spilt and I went straight up to Nick’s room. I quietly knocked waiting for him to open the door.

The opened and I handed him the cake with a fork, “M’sorry nick..” my apology sounded sincere and heartfelt.

“Yeah yeah I forgive you—“ He hugged you to show that he actually forgave you before pausing and saying something else.

“But next time I even HEAR the smallest bit of you guys fucking i’m gonna kill myself.”

“Nicolas!”

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MASTERLIST

[commander-wame]

Name: Geccko

Age: early 20's

Pronouns: she/they/it (transfem)

Orientation: aromantic lesbian

Race: genetically more lizard than Asura atp

Occupation: Whispers Agent

Originally a genetically normal asura, Geccko was convinced by her best friend and crush to join the inquest together. It was unsure about it but ultimately didn't want to go to a different college all alone.

Inquest hazing being probably pretty brutal, they somehow ended up upside down stuffed inside a barrel of goo from the genetic experimentation lab for at least a few days. When she came to weeks later they found they'd grown a semi prehensile tail and was being observed from the other side of the glass by its best friend/crush. What Geccko thought was a sweet rescue at first actually turned out to be an Inquest project her (now former) friend happened to be assigned to.

A few months of being (boringly, invasively and often painfully) studied later, it was ultimately discarded as a research specimen. Right before her scheduled termination, they were freed from containment by a Whispers agent working undercover at the lab, which led to her directly becoming an Initiate for the order.

Trivia:

Very skittish, but is social butterfly nonetheless!

Can stick to and climb walls/ceilings

Constant toothache; her old teeth fell out and many new tiny teeth grew in. Mostly eats mushy food bc of this

Has a hard time talking with altered/damaged vocal cords, is learning sign language (required learning in Whispers anyway I imagine)

Very good at knocking people out without anyone noticing

Lives in the Chantry of Secrets

A TERRIBLE judge of character, leaves that to its mission partners/fellow agents

[hard-core-super-star]

OWN MY MIND [wandanat]

pairing: top!wanda maximoff x bottom!natasha romanoff

summary: wanda's crush on natasha has grown to nearly unbearable levels. instead of pining after her, she decides to do something about it during a party.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! -> porn with plot; wanda has a crush and she's about to make it EVERYONE'S problem; semi-public sex; slightly obsessive wanda go brr; so much teasing; the clothes stay on because i say so; thigh-grinding; fingering [nat receiving]; neck kisses; i got hooked on the idea so there's a lot of expostion; shitty dirty talk; so much bickering

wordcount: 3.8k

a/n: I'M ALIVE! i did not mean to disappear again but life had other plans 😅that being said, I'M OKAY! i survived a very stressful january and my writer's block seems to be easing somewhat. every year i say i'll be more active on here and it doesn't always work very well BUT i'm trying! anyway, i hope you guys are doing well, my askbox is always open for you all. that being said, i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

There wasn't much Wanda was sure of anymore.

At some point, she'd been sure her and her family were going to be safe. She'd been proven wrong the day a Stark Industries missile crashed into her living room, sending all her childish hopes of safety with it.

After that, she'd been sure she'd never leave her brother's side, even agreeing to become an experiment for HYDRA to guarantee their safety. Their powers had helped and even when Ultron appeared, she was sure they'd figure things out together.

That dream had instantly been shot down, along with Pietro and the remnants of her home, after Ultron's attack.

She hated thinking about it. About everything she lost. About the dreams she'd held onto for most of her life that were meaningless now. That didn't serve any purpose other than reminding her she was alone.

Sure, she had the Avengers now but...they didn't understand her. Not the way her brother had.

Clint tried his hardest to be there for her before he left to be with his family, do doubt feeling guilty over something that wasn't his fault. He wasn't to blame for Pietro's sacrifice and they both knew blaming him wouldn't bring the speedster back anyway.

In a weird way, though, the archer was the only one who truly understood her grief so when he left...Wanda did what she had always done. She retreated into herself, ignoring the looks of the rest of the team and Vision's borderline annoying insistence that she talk to someone.

She didn't need to talk about anything. There was nothing to talk about. Nothing that could change the pain she carried every day.

Nothing...except Natasha Romanoff.

Their friendship hadn't come out of nowhere despite how hard the older woman liked to act otherwise. Even without her powers, she knew Clint had been the one to push Natasha in her direction. It was also obvious that the Widow had no idea what to do.

It was weirdly charming.

Despite how hard she tried to act like she cold and heartless, Natasha cared. She cared a lot more than she wanted to. Especially about Wanda.

So, when the older woman started appearing outside her door at ungodly hours of the night, seemingly unaware of the tear that stained the witch's cheeks, and inviting her to train with her...Wanda decided trusting her wouldn't do any harm.

That much was true. No real harm came from getting close to Natasha. If anything, she helped more than anyone at the Tower had even tried. She didn't care that Wanda didn't want to talk about what happened in Sokovia, that her inner demons showed their face every night and left her with nightmares too intense to ignore, that her powers grew stronger every day.

The Widow didn't seem to care about the details. She simply cared enough to be there. Sometimes she showed up earlier, before any nightmares could haunt her dreams, other times she showed up later and with a tea in hand that she quickly offered to her. There were no words exchanged but she knew.

And that meant more to Wanda than she could even put into words.

Those feelings, though, quickly grew out of her control. It happened almost on accident, practically without thinking. All she knew is that one day she felt...drawn to Natasha in a way she hadn't noticed before.

To the curve of her neck, the flex of her biceps, the tension in her jaw when she throws a punch. All the little details came together and left her feeling far too confused for her liking.

Confused and yet far too in control.

And to say Wanda was slowly becoming obsessed with control would be an understatement.

This flurry of thoughts is what leads her to do something too far out of her comfort zone. It's a shitty idea, she knows that, but when Vision off-handedly tells her of the party Tony will be throwing later that day, a plan slowly starts forming in her head.

A plan that involves a certain redhead and the confusing feelings that settle low in her stomach when they're alone together. Of course, she's not a stranger to desire, she knows what her feelings really are, but that doesn't mean she's exactly okay with them. With the suddenness and the intensity of her thoughts. Of the fantasies she longs to make a reality.

She's just as patient as she is stubborn, though, so she waits. Waits until the party is in full swing, until she's all dolled up in her favorite dress, paired with the leather jacket she never gave back to redhead, and then she strikes.

It must look weird. It certainly feels weird, stepping out into the crowd instead of avoiding everyone in her room. She has to step out of her comfort zone if she wants to go after what she wants, though, and she's determined to sink her teeth into Natasha before the end of the night.

Thankfully, she doesn't have to wait long for her opportunity.

As soon as she makes her way into the bustle of the party, she scans the room for the Widow. She finds her by the bar, chatting with Tony and Rhodey with a drink in hand.

Even though she wants to waste no time, she decides to linger. To let the anticipation build and see how long it'll take Natasha to bite. It's both torturous and enticing. A borderline perverted mix of longing that makes her heart threaten to burst out of her chest.

When Natasha's eyes finally meet her gaze, she sends a soft smile her way before pretending to be incredibly interested in her drink. It's a cheap strategy, she knows that, and yet it's one that works in her favor.

She only has to wait a few more minutes before the Widow untangles herself from Tony's drawn-out (although probably annoyingly entertaining) story and makes her way over to her.

"I didn't take you for a beer girl," she says, raising a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at her.

"There is a lot you don't know about me," Wanda replies, her accent coming out strong. It's half on purpose and half on accident. It tends to slip out easier when she's around people she's genuinely comfortable with.

And Natasha is right at the top of that list. Even if she doesn't fully know it.

The Widow lets out a soft huffing sound in response. It's not quite a laugh, but there's an edge of fondness to it that neither of them can fully ignore. It's not every day she allows herself to be so unguarded.

"You're pretty and witchy, what else is there to know?"

The teasing remark only makes the younger woman's smile grow wider. "Does that mean you think I'm pretty?"

Wanda accompanies her question with an alluring tilt of her head, watching in amusement as Natasha takes a long sip of her drink to avoid answering. Even if she doesn't say the words, she's been caught red-handed and the witch couldn't be happier about it. Maybe her sudden desire for the woman isn't as one-sided as she'd allowed herself to believe.

"What are you even doing here?" Natasha asks, her tone far too casual for the intensity in her gaze. "You hate Tony and you hate parties."

The witch in question simply shrugs. "I was tired of sitting on my ass."

This time, the Widow actually laughs. "Clint should have never taught you that phrase."

"I don't know, I think it's quite fitting." She pauses for a moment, letting the air between crackle with a hard to define energy. One just as powerful and unpredictable as her own powers. "You seem to like looking at my ass."

The older woman's eyes widen before quickly darting around them. Sure, they're leaning up against the ridiculously placed bar but no one around them is paying attention. Tony and Rhodey left to find someone else to bore with their competitive stories and everyone else is scattered around the room, too engrossed in their conversations or their drinks to pay them any mind.

Not to mention, Wanda would never allow them to notice them. It's not mind control, not really, which means she feels no guilt at manipulating reality for a few moments.

"Since when are you so bold, Maximoff?"

"Since I decided to start going after what I want." 

This time, she pairs her words with a subtle step forward. It's not enough for their bodies to press together, but the intention is more than clear. It's a hint and a warning all wrapped up in one. One the Widow could easily ignore if she wanted to.

Wanda almost expects her to, considering how shifty her eyes are. How her attention seems to bounce around the room more and more. She's sure she's never seen the older woman so nervous before. It's as cute as it is enticing.

Finally, Natasha relents. She lets out a long sigh, her gaze shifting back to Wanda's. "You couldn't find a more appropriate time for that?"

The younger woman's smile turns into a smirk. Her free hand reaches out, manicured fingers running down the length of the redhead's arm. "We could always...sneak away, just the two of us..."

Natasha lets out a soft chuckle at that, her resistance clearly wavering, even as she tries to hold strong. "I don't think that's a smart idea, princess."

Wanda's pout is almost enough to make her melt. Almost.

"Why not? Aren't we on the same page about this?"

"It's not that simple."

The witch knows she should at least ask why. That she should pretend to care about the hesitations she knows are swimming around in Natasha's head. She doesn't need to read her mind to know what they are, why they matter. But it's hard to think straight when her advances aren't being rejected. When she's so close to getting what she wants.

So, instead of doing any of the rational things the Widow seems to be struggling with, she wordlessly grabs her hand and leads her away from prying eyes. They're a few ways away but still near the hustle and bustle of the party. Far away to fully hear each other but close enough to be caught if someone decided to wander around.

She's not fully thinking about that possibilty, though. All her focus is on Natasha and getting her to admit how much she wants her. How much she needs this too.

Without thinking about the consequences, she pushes the older woman up against the wall, their eyes meeting once more. The bright green flecks of Natasha's eyes seem to sparkle almost dangerously. Unfortunately, Wanda is too far gone to heed the warnings.

"Wanda, we can't." There's no real discomfort in the Widow's voice. No real attempt at getting the younger woman to stop.

So, she doesn't.

Wanda merely lets out a soft hum but makes no attempt to step away or fully listen to the older woman's complaints. Instead, she leans in more insistently, her lips trailing up Natasha's neck and leaving heated kisses on her skin.

The redhead wants to pull away. To tell Wanda to stop and let her walk away before they do something they'll regret. It's impossible to fight against her, though. Especially when her hands join the slow exploration.

"Why can't we?" The witch asks, her hands settling on Natasha's hips. "Why do you want to pretend like you don't want me?"

The sound the redhead makes is somewhere between a huff and a groan. "That's not what I'm doing. I'm just trying to be smart about this." 

"There's nothing smart about this," she replies. "But I want you and you want me. What more do we need?"

Natasha opens her mouth to answer but Wanda doesn't give her a chance. In one swift move, she hooks the redhead's leg around her waist before pressing herself against her, drawing a soft gasp from her parted lips.

"You were saying?"

"You're so annoying, little witch."

The teasing nickname makes Wanda huff. Sure, it also makes her heart skip a beat but mostly, it annoys her. "Then tell me to stop, 'Tasha."

"Just shut up and kiss me already."

There it is. The permission she'd been waiting for. The clear admittance that their feelings were the same. That the sparks of desire she'd been feeling during training weren't one-sided delusions.

The witch wastes no time in connecting their lips once the realization hits her. Despite the intensity of their desires, the kiss is surprisingly soft. 

It's still more than a little desperate and yet there's an edge of affection that makes them melt. That leaves them craving more.

Thankfully, they both have more than enough ideas on how to fix that craving. The youngest of the two takes the leap first, though, not one bit embarrased of showing how desperate she is for more.

 Wanda grinds her hips up against Natasha's, slowly hiking her dress up to reveal the smooth skin underneath the fabric. There's something about both the setting and their outfits that drives them both mad. Something about being so exposed and yet so composed at the same time. Something about the matching black fabric of their dresses that turns them on more.

Her lips leave the Widow's just to trail down her jaw, her hands moving down her body with purpose. She grips her hips hard enough to move the older woman against her as she easily slots one of her thighs between her legs, giving her the perfect surface to grind against.

"You're so quiet, 'Tasha," the witch teases, unable to stop her flourishing dominant side for rearing its head.

Natasha knows she's allowing herself to slip. That she shouldn't be letting her guard down like this. Shouldn't be giving Wanda this much control over her.

It's not like she can help it, though. There's an intensity behind the younger woman's movements that she doesn't want to fight against. She wants to let it consume her until there's nothing left. No trace of her fears or hesitations.

She's not about to admit that any time soon, though. Even as her bucking hips give her away.

"That's because we're in public," she replies, keeping her voice as even as she can. "I can actually control myself unlike some people."

Wanda chuckles, keeping up her slow movements. "That's not what your hips are telling me."

"You're the one moving them," she shoots back.

The witch leans back slightly, a smirk forming on her face and pairing beautifully with her dialated pupils. "Is that so? If I move my hands away, you'll stop trying to hump my leg?"

Without waiting for an answer, she moves her hands away from the redhead's hips, allowing her fingers to trail up her torso toward her chest. She keeps her touch light and teasing, using it to further draw out the other woman's desires.

"That's not fair," Natasha huffs, her cheeks flushing a light shade of pink as the attention piles on. "You're the one that started this, you have to finish it."

"But we haven't even started yet, have we? You still have too many clothes on."

Wanda's fingers linger on the strap of Natasha's dress, sliding it down just enough to allow her lips to connect to the exposed skin. She focuses her attention on that spot just enough to make the older woman's hips buck against her.

"Fuck," she groans. "This is so unfair."

"I think it's more than fair. I can feel how much you want me. You're soaked, aren't you?"

Her question is met with another groan, this one in a sightly higher, more desperate, pitch. The witch is right, of course. She's already drenched and all she's done is lazily grind against her thigh.

It's practically impossible to stop her body from responding to her, though. Even without reading her mind, she knows her cues all too well after spending so much sparring with her.

Then again, she's pretty sure she wouldn't mind allowing her to invade her thoughts. Something about the lack of control makes her gush.

The low chuckle Natasha's thought is met with makes her eyes widen in response, her hands coming up to grip the younger woman’s shoulders. “Are you seriously reading my mind right now?”

Wanda knows the redhead is trying to sound intimidating but she’s far too breathless, far too wet against her thigh, for her to feel anything but satisfaction. “I couldn’t help it, your thoughts are so loud.”

The response is exactly what she had been expecting and all she can do is huff. “Don’t make it a habit.”

Her words only make Wanda bolder. With her words, her touch, her unbearable need to make the other woman fall apart just for her. “I thought you wanted me in your mind, ‘Tasha?”

The Widow knows she's been caught. That even if the witch didn't spend much time in her head, she knows how much she loves this. How much she wants this. This back and forth dance that will no doubt end with her on her knees.

And still, she's far too stubborn to admit it.

"Shut up." It's a weak remark but it's the only one she has. The only two words she can coherently form as her hips roll against the hard muscle pressing so insistently against her heat. "If you wanted to talk so much, you should have taken me on a date."

"If you don't like me talking so much, why are you so wet?"

It's infuriating. For every snarky response she can form, Wanda has two more waiting for her. It's like she knows exactly how to work her up, exactly how to meet her where she's at instead of trying to change her. It's more than infuriating, it's...it's sweet. In its own complicated, slightly fucked up way, the witch is being sweet.

Maybe it's that realization that makes her melt. Or maybe she's just too pent up to care anymore. She knows what the answer is, but she ignores it in favor of gripping Wanda's wrist and guiding it between her legs.

"I'd prefer it if you stopped talking and started doing, princess."

The witch's body tenses for a second, almost like her brain is struggling to catch up to reality, but then her fingers are working their way into Natasha's underwear and they both let out twin moans at the feeling.

Instead of taking a moment to tease her, Wanda dives right in, her patience fading with every buck of the older woman's hips. She sinks two fingers into Natasha's aching cunt, barely reminding herself to take it easy. To draw her pleasure out until she's writhing and groaning.

"Is this better for you, 'Tasha?" She asks, her lips making their way to Natasha's neck once more. She knows better than to leave too many marks behind, but she can't help her urges and she sinks her teeth into the side of the older woman's neck.

Natasha's walls clench around her fingers, nails digging into the witch's jacket as sparks of pleasure shoot up her spine. She arches her back into her touch, her hips bucking a little too wildly for her taste. It's not like she can help her movements. Not when it feels so good.

"Wanda," she moans, her cheeks heating up as she realizes how desperate she sounds. "Fuck, don't stop."

If Wanda was slightly more sadistic she would push her to beg. As enticing as that sounds, she'd much prefer to show her how good she can make her feel instead.

"I won't," she says as her thumb finds its way onto Natasha's swollen clit. "Not until you fall apart for me. Until you admit how good I make you feel."

Her pride seems like a small price to pay for the pleasure that's turning her brain to mush. She opens her mouth to stroke Wanda's ego some more when the younger woman speeds up her movements, her fingers curling just enough to leave her gasping.

She pushes her hips into her fingers with every thrust, looking far more needy than she ever allows herself to be. "Right there, fuck, feels so good."

Natasha's never really been one for talking during sex, far too accustomed to selfish lovers who don't need her approval to feel like they're doing things right. It's different this time, though. Not just because she genuinly feels good, but because it's so clear that Wanda feels good. That this is what she wants. Touching her, pleasing her, driving her to the brink of madness. The witch has never looked more comfortable, more in her element, than she does right now.

"You gonna cum for me already?" The witch teases, pretending she's not doing everything in her power to make the older woman fall apart. "Here? Where anyone could see you? See how desperate you are for my fingers?"

The slight degradation shouldn't turn her on more, but it does. It makes her head fall back as an incoherent string of curses leave her lips. She knows she should at least feel a little emberrased but she can't. Can't think about anything except Wanda's fingers pistoning in and out of her wet pussy.

"Yes," she replies breathlessly. "I need- need to cum."

Wanda doubles her efforts as soon as she hears Natasha admit how close she is. Her thumb presses down on her twitching clit, rubbing fast circles against it until the Widow's walls are spasming around her fingers. 

"That's it, let go for me, 'Tasha. Make a mess on my fingers."

She doesn't have to be told twice.

The coil in Natasha's stomach snaps almost instantly, leaving her clinging to the witch as the pleasure crashes into her all at once.

Wanda watches her with wide eyes, greedily drinking in every twitch of her face, every desperate sound she can't hold back. She's sure she's never seen anything so breathtaking in her life.

All it does, though, is make her realize how much more she wants. How badly she needs Natasha. How her mind has filled up with fantasies she's not sure she can live without.

After losing everything she's ever had, she has to have the older woman.

That will come later, though, right now, she has more important things to focus on. Like making sure Natasha can walk long enough for them to retire to her room for the night.

* * * * * * *

taglist: @boredandneedfanfics

[paperbackpanic]

Hiii, if you’re still open to requests, may I suggest either Tim/masky or EJ (or anyone you prefer really) with a super femme S/O who’s just really crass. Like they love all things cute and pink but they’ll take every opportunity to say the most outrageous thing they can think of

EJ and Masky with a hyper fem s/o who says outrageous stuff

A/n: hii!! Omg I loved this request specially because I'm kinda like that? I mean my mouth sometimes runs faster than my mind and I end up saying outrageous things but it is not, like, on purpose most of the time and I really like dressing super fem! I also really love writing for EJ and Masky :D. Sorry for the long rant I'm kinda lonely and need to run my "mouth" out a bit, anyway I hope you enjoy!!

A bit of a content warning for NSFW and generally gross topics but nothing too explicit.

Eyeless Jack

🎀 honestly you too contrast so much is kinda comical. EJ is the dark serious silent type and you are a cute and pink agent of chaos who honestly can talk a lot, specially considering you take every opportunity to say absurds.

🎀 Is pretty hard to surprise/get him off guard but when he first meet you he was pretty surprised, he thought you would be the shy "feminine energy" super polite girl you being really crass caught him a lil bit off guard

🎀 He isn't bothered by the things you say, he honestly find the fact that you're crass quite interesting

🎀 Yap sessions Yap sessions!! You'll let all of your wildest thoughts run out of your mouth and EJ will sit and listen. He won't judge but sometimes a thing you said will generate a long philosophical discussion about why you think that and he usually says something like "you do/say that just because you like to go against the norm or is it something deeper?" to start it off

🎀 You asked him once if his semen could be dyed with food dye BEFORE it came out of his body. It technically can? But like only because you can "tint" the urethra a bit with the dye but it involves a catheter and he's not going to put one in his dick because you want to see how much food dye would take to make his cum neon green. No matter how much you tried to convince him he won't budge ☹️☹️

🎀 You know that scene in some random old movie that I don't know the name with Marilyn Monroe that goes something like that:

"I know more than 200 ways to kill a man"

"You could glue a jar filled with rats to someone's face and then light a torch on the bottom so it would start to heat up and the rats would try to run away by chewing the person face off ☺️"

"201"

That's you two.

🎀 The only time when he will ask you to shut up and be polite is when you need it for your safety. I mean not everyone likes crassness and the most violent creepypastas would kill you without a second thought if you irritate them too much so he'll make sure you know beforehand when it's dangerous for you to be your true self

🎀 As I said in previous headcanons Jack doesn't really see stuff so he doesn't have a solid opinion on your style of clothing, he likes the texture of it though. Ruffles are great to run his hands through

🎀 Over time he just kinda stopped listening your crassness like, not in the literal sense but sometimes people around him point out and he's just "oh I didn't notice" he just filtered out that what you were saying was crass and just registered "my s/o is talking"

🎀 Overall a pretty good relationship, you two balance each other very well

Masky

🎀 He doesn't really like people who are crass or being crass himself. He's too old for that, but he will put up with you out of love.

🎀 Overtime he grew used to how you are, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't look at you like you're insane when you say something particularly out of pocket. Like creeps usually do stuff that's not really polite or demure but they don't typically say stuff out loud (or at least they shouldn't)

🎀 Your cute style is really a pro in his list on why he put up with your bullshit. It might not look like it but he has a soft spot for cute things

🎀 yapping with him might be a little difficult, he will listen to you of course he's not a bad boyfriend but he will shut you down pretty quickly if you're trying to convince him of doing some weird experiment or saying something particularly absurd.

🎀 He will use stuffed animals, cute clothes, nice dinner dates etc. to bribe you to be at least less crass when the situation call for it. You will shut up and be polite and not crass if he just asks nicely but you can't help but exploit him a little on this aspect and I can't blame you

🎀 if you ask him, he will gladly give you some lessons on good manners. He likes you however you are but this is something he thinks you can work on...

🎀 shuts you up with kisses. I will not elaborate

🎀 He has a secret ranking of most outrageous stuff you said to him/near him is only 5 itens long but he likes looking at it from time to time when he's missing you.

🎀 Assuming the Creeps exist in the same universe as us and not in a separate one: you told him about Twink Masky. He did not like it. It was funny

🎀 Despite everything he loves your personality, even if your crassness can be considered a "flaw"

[bitethedevil]

A House of Hope (Modern!AU Raphael x Tav): Chapter 3

Read this fic on AO3

Last Chapter

Fic summary: Tav lives at her mom's place after a tough break-up with her former boyfriend. Rent isn't cheap anywhere, but one day her mom finds her someone online who presents a tempting new living situation that won't break her bank account.

Tav moves into the Haven estate and becomes a part of Raphael's House of Hope project: a project that helps unfortunate souls to get back on their feet. Although, something is not quite right about the house and her fellow tenants. That's not to mention her odd landlord who seems to be hiding something...

AN: There's smuuuut.

WARNING: NSFT Content, Somnophilia, Non-Con, Oral

Tav felt hands move slowly up her legs and then settle on her hips. She was still half asleep.

The hands moved up under her shirt. They were delightfully warm, making her utter a content moan. The fabric of her shirt was pushed upwards, and she felt equally warm lips press against the skin of her stomach. Her breath hitched ever so slightly.

Kisses trailed up to one of her breasts. A hot tongue licked at her nipple, making her shiver and arch her back. The owner of the tongue took the hint and lowered their mouth over her breast, sucking and nibbling at her skin. It felt amazing.

Tav’s eyes only fluttered open when her nipple was released with a wet pop. They quickly fluttered shut again when she suddenly felt lips against hers.

Whoever it was, they smelled better than anything she had ever smelled before.

Almost instinctively, she parted her lips for them, eager to taste them too. Their tongue invaded her mouth. The taste was sugary sweet.

When they broke the kiss, she almost whined at the loss and her eyes finally opened to see who this mystery person was.

It was Raha, the beautiful woman she had briefly met the day before.

Tav’s mind was too hazy now to think it was odd. Raha gave her a toothy grin, flashing her sharp canines. Tav couldn’t pry her eyes away from her sharp teeth.

“I thought you might appreciate a warm welcome,” Raha purred.

“Hmhm…” Tav responded with something between a drunken moan and a hum, still mesmerized by the young woman’s sharp teeth.

Raha spoke again, but this time an entirely different voice came out of her mouth when she spoke.

“Shhh-shh-shh. Just relax, darling,” they said in a voice that sounded exactly like Raphael’s, though the tone was all wrong. “You’re home~”

She looked up at Raha’s face and found that it was no longer a young woman hovering over her. It was a devil with orange, glowing eyes and huge horns. The features were Raphael’s. Tav began to squirm, a sense of panic pushing its way through the haze of her mind.

Raha-Raphael shushed her once again and lowered themself between her legs. The second their tongue found the wetness between her thighs, her panic faded into the background of her mind as pleasure took over instead.

Her eyes fluttered shut once more and her breath grew shallower as they hungrily ate her out. The hungry groans of the devil between her legs mixed with the sound of their tongue exploring her dripping wetness were downright sinful.

Tav felt a strand of hair tickle her now sweaty brow. She absentmindedly moved her hand up to brush it out of the way.

Although…her hand got stuck on something foreign. Something hard and almost bone-like was protruding from her head. She grasped at it, yanked at it and found that it was a part of her.

Her breathing got quicker as the panic started pressing its way to the forefront again.

“No, hey…mm…stop, what—” she mumbled. “What’s happening?”

Tav moved her hand to stop the devil between her legs. She froze when she saw her own hand. Her skin was scaly and red, and her nails were sharp, dark claws. Her mind became crystal clear just like that.

She was suddenly able to take in her surroundings.

The bed she was in, and all of the furniture around her, was red and gold like most of the furniture at Haven but she had never seen this room before.

Her eyes were suddenly caught by the landscape outside. She could see it over the railing of the balcony: a barren, hellish landscape.

She screamed.

Tav woke up in a pool of cold sweat, breathing hard. She quickly noticed that it was a bit too bright outside and picked up her phone.

10:26

Slight panic rose as she realized that she should have been at work over an hour ago. Her alarm should have gone off at least three hours ago so that she had time to figure out how to get into the city. She must have slept through it somehow.

She quickly pulled on her clothes and ran a brush through her hair, before running to the main house.

She knocked on the door and John opened it shortly after.

“Morning, John,” Tav said with a quick, polite smile. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. Is Raphael still here?”

John gave her a nod and opened the door for her.

“Alright, great,” she said hurriedly. “Where?”

John made a gesture for her to follow him. She held in a frustrated groan. She had hoped she could just find him herself instead of following John’s snail pace around the house.

She was led into a room that was brightly lit by the sun. It had big windows that you could see a good part of the garden from. Raphael was calmly painting something in the middle of the room.

“I thought I very specifically said that I did not want to be disturbed,” Raphael said in a tight, but still calm tone, not even moving his eyes from the canvas.

“Maria wished to speak with you,” John said in a quiet, apologetic tone.

That made Raphael turn his head. His eyes lit up when he saw her and the tightness of his features at getting disturbed vanished in a heartbeat. Tav was bouncing on her legs, eager to get a move on.

“Tav, dear. What can I do for you?”

“I’m really sorry about barging in like this, but I really need to know how to get back to the city from out here. I slept through my alarm, and my shift started at 9. I heard there was something about a bus?”

Raphael made a dismissive gesture.

“I’ll drive you,” he said. “It will get you there sooner than the bus. Give me a moment to change my clothes and I will be right with you.”

She let out a small sigh of relief.

“Thank you so much…”

She watched as he wiped his paint-stained fingers on a rag behind him and then unbuttoned the shirt he was wearing. She couldn’t pry her eyes off him as he shook it off. She got a good glimpse of his bare back.

Her thoughts involuntarily went back to the dream.

Raphael was handsome, there was no doubt about it, but he was definitely not the usual type she went for. He was too old and took himself too seriously for her tastes. Still, that odd, terrifying dream must have awakened something in her.

She adjusted her gaze when he turned to face her.

“Come,” he said with a smile.

He gently put his hand on her shoulder when he passed her, sending a slight jolt of something through her.

She watched as his long fingers moved over the screen of the GPS, typing in the location. She followed their movements as they started the car and then gripped the steering wheel. The car purred and came to life.

“A kindergarten, hm?”

She snapped back to reality. She suddenly noticed that she had been staring and looked out through the window instead.

“Yeah.”

“Surely there are no children being sent there on a Sunday,” Raphael said.

“No, but I don’t work on Fridays,” she explained. “The mess from the week luckily stays put until Sunday.”

“It seems slightly unsanitary to leave said mess over the weekend, no? Children can be…”

“Disgusting? Yeah. They are.”

Raphael chuckled.

“Good thing is that the staff who with the kids usually cleans up a bit too,” Tav explained. “In the weekends I mostly do the floors, walls, windows…Any kinds of surfaces, really. Those little buggers put their hands and faces on everything…”

“I can only imagine,” he said, his nose crinkling in slight disgust at the thought. “Will you get in trouble for being late?”

“Probably not,” she answered. “I rarely get a visit from my boss and there’s no security cameras to prove that I was there or not.”

“I see.”

The small talk came to a lull. Tav looked out the window as they drove. She could not get that damned dream out of her head. It wasn’t unusual for her to have some odd dreams every now and again, but this one had been so vivid.

“You seem tense, dear,” Raphael noted, pulling her from her thoughts. “I hope that I am not overstepping any boundaries, but is it only about the job?”

She looked at him in the rearview mirror. He looked back with a glint of something in his eyes that didn’t seem like worry, but something else entirely. She brushed it off and looked away.

“Just…some weird dream I had…”

“Ah, I see,” he said. “Those are not uncommon amongst the residents at the estate, I hear. I believe it may have something to do with the sounds the house makes. It does something to the imagination.”

“Yeah,” Tav mumbled. “Must be that.”

The car stopped outside her workplace.

“Here we are,” Raphael announced. “When are you off from work?”

“Around two.”

“I will send a car to retrieve you then,” he said with a smile. “Have fun with your cleaning.”

She gave him a bright sarcastic smile, followed by a genuine one before getting out of the car.

“Thank you for this.”

“You are very welcome,” he purred. “Any time.”

She shut the door, and he drove off. She dug out the keys to the building from her bag and unlocked the door. Just as she swung it open, her eyes met with the disgruntled face of her boss who had come to visit.

Just her luck.

She was exhausted. Not only had her boss been over her like a hawk while she worked, but when she got home her mother came with her things and hovered over her with the same intensity while she unpacked.

She had finally got rid of her and was granted a moment of solitude, when she heard a knock on her door. She made a long, frustrated whine and then opened it.

It was Linda.

“I made too much food,” Linda said. “I gathered that you might not have had the time to fill your fridge yet, so if you want some, you can join me.”

Tav smiled and rubbed her face tiredly with the palm of her hand. She hadn’t had a moment throughout the day to even think about feeding herself. She suspected that the offer might just be an excuse to have some company, but it was a really nice thought regardless.

“I’d love some,” she muttered. “Thank you.”

Linda led her into her apartment. It was surprisingly homely. All of the red and gold furniture had been replaced with Linda’s own, she noticed. The new furniture wasn’t fancy by any means, but it looked comfortable.

“Just sit wherever. I’ll bring you a bowl.”

Tav sat down on the soft, turquoise couch and melted into it immediately.

“Love what you’ve done to the place.”

Linda huffed, thinking she was being sarcastic.

“Oh, no-no, I mean it,” Tav quickly said. “It’s really nice. Homey. I haven’t bothered making my place my own yet. I just kept the furniture it came with.”

“Yes, well,” Linda said and filled a bowl with stew. “When you’ve haven’t had a home for as long as I, you learn to appreciate being able to choose your surroundings. Everything here, I’ve bought with my own hard-earned money.”

She had wondered what Linda’s deal was. Everyone she had met seemed to have something that made them end up at Haven.

“You were homeless?”

“For most of my twenties through my forties,” Linda replied and handed her the bowl. “Here.” She sat down beside her. “Raphael found me and offered me a job and a home. Who could refuse that?”

Tav smiled. The stew smelled great, despite her not really being able to discern what it was. She took a spoonful of it and blew on it before taking a bite.

“Do you like it?”

Tav nodded eagerly and her smile widened.

“Good,” Linda said. “It’s my mom’s recipe. It’s cheap to make too. I can teach you.”

“I’d like that,” Tav replied. “Cheap is good…Especially since I might soon be out of a job…”

Linda dug into the stew herself.

“John told me you were late this morning,” Linda said. “For someone who can barely remember his own name, it’s impressive how gossip sticks to that man’s brain. If all else fails, you can work with the rest of us. God knows I could use help with the cleaning of this place.”

“Yeah I’ll…think about it,” Tav mumbled.

There was a moment of silence. Tav noticed a distant sound of some kind of ruckus coming from the main building, which made her ears perk up a bit.

“What is that?”

“Raha and Raphael,” Linda explained tiredly. “They fight like cat and dog constantly. Give it half an hour though and they will be making up loud enough for the whole estate to hear.”

Another vase flew past Raphael’s head and smashed against the wall. He gritted his teeth and looked at them.

“You give me the same lousy excuses for not going home every single day,” Raha hissed and picked up another vase. “’Soon Haarlep, have patience Haarlep, I don’t like it any more than you do,’” they said, mocking Raphael’s voice. “Which we both know is a lie! You are right where you belong, aren’t you, darling? We are really indulging in that human side of you.”

“Mind your tongue, Haarlep,” Raphael said in a low, dangerous tone. “Lest I cut it out.”

Raha threw another vase in response. This one almost hit him. Their aim was getting better every day.

“Why? Isn’t that what we’re doing? You are not even playing pretend at this point! You are fully like them. Driving cars, doing taxes, checking your phone, using hours on the fucking Face-thing!”

“Facebook,” Raphael corrected tiredly, having tried for months to convince Haarlep to blend in more by using the technology available in this realm.

Another vase flew by his head.

“What are we doing? Did you forget why we’re here? We were supposed to go home ages ago!” Raha hissed at him.

Raphael walked over to them. He was towering over the form of Raha that Haarlep had taken.

The real Raha had been dead for over a year now, strangled in the dead of night when she did not prove as malleable as Raphael had thought her to be, but not before Haarlep had taken her form.

“I do not need to explain myself to you,” Raphael growled at them. “A dog does not need to understand the motives of its master, it simply needs to obey his whims, or it will be deemed useless. Useless pets get put down, my dear.”

“Oh, you are fucking one to talk, dear,” they countered in a mocking tone. “That’s why we are running from daddy, isn’t it? So, he doesn’t steal back your new toy and put you down. And here we are: two useless strays running in circ—”

Raphael’s hand shot out to close around their throat. They narrowed their eyes at him and changed into their usual shape of Raphael’s cambion form. Now they were towering over him with a challenging look in their eyes.

A flash of fire surrounded Raphael as he changed into his cambion form too. He pulled them further into the room, away from the windows. Haarlep got a lot less cocky at that. Raphael turned them around and shoved them hard against a wall, face first.

There was a low growl in his chest with every breath he took. Haarlep knew that he was pissed. He leaned in until they could feel his breath against their ear.

“We are done here, when I say we are,” he growled into their ear. “If you want to return to Avernus, that won’t be a problem, Haarlep. Just say the word, and I will happily send you home,” he said in a mocking, lighter tone. “Who knows? Perhaps the demons of the Abyss might recognize you as kin and spare you when I drop you off at the front lines. Or perhaps they won’t…”

Haarlep huffed in defeat. Raphael let them go.

“You are not to use that form here,” he reminded them. “Do not let me see you in it again unless we are in private. I will not tell you again.”

Haarlep sneered and turned around to face him. They took a couple of deep breaths, gritted their teeth, and tried to control their temper.

“What form would you prefer tonight then, master?”

Raphael gave them a satisfied smirk at their change in tone. He transformed back into his human form. He sat down on a plush chair that was facing the bed.

“The new one,” he said and made a lazy gesture to the bed behind them. “She intrigues me. Let us see her.”

Haarlep crawled onto the bed. Their orange eyes turned light brown, and their sleek dark hair turned into Tav’s thick and unruly mop of brown hair. Once they had transformed, they stripped themself of their clothing and threw it on the floor beside the bed.

Raphael was watching their every move with dark, dilated eyes.

“How was she?” he asked.

“Surprisingly eager, even before she tasted me,” Haarlep purred back in Tav’s voice. “I didn’t get to fuck her, but she tasted delicious.”

Raphael gave a hum as he was feasting on their bare form. Haarlep smiled and teasingly spread their legs a little bit, earning them a low growl from him. He got up from his seat to look down at them. They looked from the very obvious bulge in his pants to his face with a smile.

“Spread them wider,” Raphael commanded.

Haarlep laid back and spread their legs fully for him, giving him a full view of her physique. Raphael looked at them with heavy-lidded eyes. A smile tugged on his lips as his attention was caught by her piercings.

“Quite a naughty girl, isn’t she? Our dear Tav,” he muttered.

His fingers brushed over one of her pierced nipples and slowly traced them down to the piercing she had through her clitoral hood. Haarlep made a show of uttering a breathy moan at his touch.

Raphael lowered his head between their legs. He dipped his tongue into her and slowly licked upwards until he reached her clit. He closed his mouth over it and swirled his tongue around the piercing there for a moment before moving back from her form.

“Mm,” he said in a deep hum of satisfaction. “Change back. Tempting as she is, let’s not risk scaring her away. I have plans for her.”

They had just finished eating. Her and Linda had been chitchatting when she suddenly felt a shiver out of nowhere. He nipples hardened and she felt herself grow wet. She squirmed a bit in her seat and cleared her throat. Linda noticed her odd demeanor.

“Something wrong?”

Tav quickly frowned and shook her head.

“No, no,” she said. “Go on. there was a breeze or…something.”

“It’s the ghosts,” Linda said completely serious. “This place is haunted, I’m telling you. Do you know that when I got here—”

Linda kept speaking but Tav was busy trying to ignore whatever the hell her body was doing. She physically jumped from her seat and gasped when she felt something move between her legs.

“I need to go, I think,” Tav said suddenly in a high-pitched voice and shot up from her seat. “Thank you for the dinner!”

Linda looked at her with a puzzled expression as she hurried out the door.

Tav practically ran to her own apartment, almost dropping her keys in her eagerness to be in private. She unlocked it with some difficulty. She leaned her back against the door when she got inside and took a deep breath. She stood still. The feeling, whatever it had been, seemed like it had passed.

This had been such a weird day.

[arcadia-smith]

You gave everything for him, but when it came down to it, love was never simple. It was never enough, not for him.

“Did you love him?”

It’s the question that hangs in the air between you and Steve, the one that comes out of nowhere and slaps you across the face like a cold wind. He watches you carefully, his eyes searching for something, but you know better than to give him the answer he’s hoping for. He already knows the truth, anyway. He knows the weight of it. He’s seen it in the way you’ve lived since Bucky disappeared—broken, fragmented, clinging to memories that are starting to feel more like ghosts than anything real.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word like a stone falling from your chest. “I loved him.”

Steve nods slowly, like he expected that answer, but the next question comes quicker than you’re ready for.

“Did he love you back?”

You never got the chance to hear him say it back—not fully. Not in the way you needed him to. He’d show it, in small ways, in the moments when his eyes would soften or when he’d pull you close and bury his face in your hair. But in the end, it was never enough

Your breath catches in your throat. The answer feels like a knife in your gut. Because it’s not a simple “yes” or “no.” It never was with Bucky.

“Sometimes,” you say, your voice faltering, but you don’t look away. You won’t. You don’t have that luxury anymore. “Sometimes he did.”

There’s a silence that follows, one that stretches too long, too deep, and you can feel it all—the years of heartache, of wondering, of waiting for him to come back and finally love you the way you loved him. The way you needed him to.

It was never that simple, was it?

When you first met Bucky, when you first fell for him, you had no idea what kind of man he would become, no idea what would be left of him after Hydra got their hands on him. But you loved him anyway. You loved him with everything you had, with every part of you that had never felt quite whole.

He was your anchor, your everything. And even when his eyes grew distant, when he pulled away from you, you didn’t stop loving him.

You couldn’t.

But sometimes, that love was a curse.

There were nights when Bucky would stare at you like he was drowning, his mind trapped in memories of things you could never understand, of things you couldn’t reach. There were nights when he would pull away from you, his hands shaking, his words broken, and you would hold him, but never quite enough. Because he didn’t know how to let you in.

And you? You loved him through it all. You loved him on the nights when he would whisper apologies into your hair, when he would tell you that he didn’t deserve you, when he would break down and crumble under the weight of his own demons.

But some nights, he wouldn’t say anything at all.

And on those nights, you hated the silence between you, hated the way he couldn’t find the words to tell you he loved you. But you kept loving him anyway.

Sometimes, he would look at you with those stormy eyes, soft and filled with something that felt like love—but only sometimes. And that was all you could hold onto.

But there were other nights.

Nights when his gaze would harden, when the man you knew would disappear, swallowed up by whatever darkness still lingered inside of him. On those nights, you didn’t know who he was, who you were, or if any of it was real.

You learned, over time, that love didn’t always have answers. And sometimes, it wasn’t enough to hold someone together, no matter how much you tried.

“Sometimes,” you whisper again, as if trying to convince yourself it wasn’t a lie. “Sometimes he loved me back.”

Steve’s face softens, but you can tell he understands. You don’t need him to say it—he knows how complicated love can be, how it can slip through your fingers when you least expect it. How sometimes, no matter how hard you fight, no matter how much you give, love just isn’t enough.

And you loved him. You always did.

Even when it wasn’t enough for Bucky.

[kuronanerd]

…cupid’s garden . ݁₊ ⊹

જ⁀➴ valentine’s special with Haru Hayate!

fluff, very slight angst, established relationship, slightly suggestive at the end if you squint, x f! reader.

a/n: this was a silly request from my bsf, so I hope she likes it. Also, I felt as if there needed to be MORE haru fics/appreciation. (All the 3 haru fans scream in joy.) But seriously, whoever sees this, enjoy, & feel free to request other characters.

The atmosphere in the air was thick and tense, almost suffocating. It was the kind which made the hairs on your neck stand up. Haru was standing across from you, a faint frown tugging at his lips as you stood in front of him, arms crossed, and a scowl adorning your features.

You had been holding everything back for weeks—the way he seemed to slip further away from you, always busy with practice, and too wrapped up in his career, leaving you waiting for whatever scraps of time he had left. Of course, you tried to be understanding, but no one likes being put aside and forgotten.

“You’re always so busy Haru.” You said, trying your best to keep your voice steady.

“I understand it’s your career, for gods sakes—it’s your livelihood! but I’m tired of being set aside to sit still and look pretty for you. I’m not asking for everything, I just want you to try and make time for me, please?”

The words stung as you verbalized them, they were like salt in the wound for Haru. The pain in your voice was evident, the hurt was clinging onto your words, despite your best efforts of trying to hide it.

Haru’s gaze fell to the floor. The space between you two grew further, the silence, heavier. He absolutely hated seeing you upset, and even worse, he hated being the cause of it. He knew you were right, he had been neglecting you for soccer, and the reality of it all, crushed him. There was no excuse, no alibi he could give you, just the painful truth that he had been absent, and it had hurt you.

“I’m sorry.” Haru finally muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His expression softened with guilt, as his shoulders only slumped in defeat.

Haru was never the best with words, especially when it came down to his feelings. But even so, he knew you deserved more than what his lame excuse for an apology could give you. His little gestures of affection wouldn’t be enough this time, he knew that. So he made it his mission to make it up to you, by any means necessary.

“it’s just hard balancing everything…but I’ll try harder. I’ll make more time, just for you. I promise.” He didn’t know what else to say, but he meant what he said. Haru’s heart ached with the disappointment he had for himself.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat becoming unbearable. You knew Haru meant what he said, but it didn’t change the reality of the situation. It didn’t change how your bed, which was once fit for two, would only ever be occupied by one, how you would spend your nights eating at a dinner table alone, and how the empty space of it all, began to consume you. You wanted to believe him, you really did, but your frustration still hung in the air.

“That’s all I’m asking for Haru. I don’t want to compete with your career, since I know that’s a fight I’ll lose every time...”

The words left your lips, filled with raw and intense emotion, and it left a sour taste on your tongue. But there was nothing else that said from either of you, just the weight of your words echoing in Haru’s mind. His eyes watched as you walked out of the room, but he knew you needed space, he knew you needed to think, so he didn’t stop you. Instead, he began to think on how he could ever make it up to you. But would his efforts be enough? Could his actions ever fill the growing gap between you two?

—

In the days that followed, Haru found himself thinking of ways to make it up to you, and he managed to conjure up the perfect plan. Of course, It was all thanks to the small garden he had in the backyard of your home. It had always been his sanctuary, it was his place to unwind after his soccer practices, and now, it had turned into his master plan to win you over.

Haru’s love for gardening and all things botanical, was passed down to him from his grandfather. He would always share his life before the U-20’s and NEL with you. He’d tell you stories about the different kinds of plants he would tend to, his life on the farm, and how if he hadn’t gone down the path of soccer, he’d live his life dedicated to plants. He even once shared with you a dream, that if you both chose to have kids, he would also pass down his love for gardening to them, just like his grandfather did with him. That dream Haru shared with you always warmed your heart, since it gave you insight on the type of man he was.

So everyday, once Haru would get home, he’d greet you with a warm smile, obviously still giving you your space, but making an effort to shower you with as much affection as possible. He’d also find himself in the garden after hours, planting all sorts of surprises for you. His body would ache from practice and his intense stretching workouts, but it didn’t matter to him. The thought of making things right with you, pushed him forwards. He’d work quietly and deliberately, and with every pull of a weed, every stroke of his hand through the soil, his mind would wander back to you. He would think about the words you spoke to him that day, the way you pleaded with him to make an effort, to be present in your life. So he worked harder, not just in the garden but also in your relationship, making sure you finally had a bed fit for two.

Of course, this wasn’t easy for Haru. The demands of his career were constant, his schedule was always tight and unpredictable, not to mention, he hadn’t gotten a good nights sleep in days. But no matter how much his body protested, Haru couldn’t stop, you could say it was his way of rebelling against the things that caused him to stray so far away from you.

But whenever he did find himself at his wits end, he would think back on the times you would sit with him in the garden, your laughter filling the air, and the way you so perfectly complimented his flowers. He appreciated your warmth, your kindness, your patience. How you never asked him for anything expensive or extravagant, just his presence, a shared moment between you two.

And he wanted all of it back, no, he needed it back.

So as Valentine’s Day approached, Haru would finally and officially, apologize to you. He wasn’t the most romantic, not by a long shot, but he knew the things you loved, the things that mattered to you. The flowers he had planted for you with such care, over the past few weeks leading up to this day would finally become a symbol of his love towards you and his commitment to change.

The days continued to fly by, and Haru would continue to carefully select the flowers he knew you’d adore. He even made you a bouquet out of them, simple yet beautiful as ever—just like you. With every delicate petal he’d arrange, he also left meaning and love behind them, and he’d think you every step of the way.

—

When Valentine’s Day arrived, Haru was more than ready for you. Obviously, he was nervous. He didn’t know how you would react, or if this would be enough of an apology for you, but he knew he had to do it. So discreetly as ever, he went about his day, and you went about yours. ‘Both’ of you had gone to ‘work’, but little did you know, Haru had other plans. Instead, he made his way to the local corner store, and bought all types of decorations for your big surprise. It was simple really, all he did was buy the prettiest rose petals he could find, and heart shaped candles of course. Upon getting home, he immediately got to work, neatly placing them from the front door to the backyard.

He waited for you to get home, his anxiety gnawing at his confidence with every minute that passed. His heart was racing and he tried to calm his nerves, he wasn’t used to this kind of vulnerability, but for you, it was more than worth it. So when Haru heard the jingle of your keys, he quickly took in a deep breath, and without thinking, sprang off the couch. His fingers brushing delicately against the bouquet he had spent weeks crafting with his own hands.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed throughout the house, and Haru didn’t waste a single second. He carefully grabbed the bouquet and quickly moved to the backyard. The garden was bursting with color, and most of all, the symbol of love Haru had been working so hard on to show you. He paused for a moment, looking around at his creation, and everything was perfect.

You stepped through the front door, a tired sigh escaping your lips as the weight of the day had left you feeling drained. You placed your keys onto the entryway table, before you noticed the scattered petals on the floor. There was a trail of them and candles. It was something so simple yet beautiful. No way Haru did this, he was never the type to do some grand gesture like this. So your curiosity piqued, and you followed the path of the gorgeous trail.

You couldn’t help but smile softly, your gaze lifting to each one of the candles which flickered as they lined the way to your destination.

“Haru?” You whispered, your voice filled with curiosity.

“Where are you?”

You continued to follow the trail through the living room and out the backyard, and at first, you thought you were dreaming when you saw what was in front of you. The backyard had been completely transformed, the beautiful flowers and greenery left you completely speechless. But the best part of it all, was Haru. He was standing right in front of you, with a bouquet of flowers, but not just any flowers, your favorite flowers.

Haru walked towards you, slowly, deliberately, and quietly. Each step closer to you was filled with purpose, as if he was trying to savor each second of the moment. But once he reached you, everything else faded away, he lifted the bouquet out in front of you, and gave you the most sincere gaze.

“I’m sorry for always being so distant towards you.” Haru croaked, his voice was low, but filled with so much emotion for you.

“I know this will hardly make up for it, but I wanted to show you how dedicated I am to you. I never want to make you feel alone, ever again.”

You stood there completely stunned and speechless, as Haru’s words slowly sunk in. Words couldn’t describe how deeply you appreciated everything he had done for you. The sincerity in his eye, the care he had put into everything—it hit you right in the heart.

“Haru… this is more than enough.” You sweetly replied, your heart swelling with love.

Your hands softly reached out towards the beautiful bouquet, taking it out of his hands. Your fingers brushed against his, and it was an innocent, yet electric touch you both had been wanting. Haru’s hand gently cupped your cheek, and he met your eyes with so much warmth and love.

“This is for all the times I didn’t show you my love. I want to make things right, starting now.”

Your heart felt as if it were blossoming, and you stepped closer to Haru, wrapping your arms around him. The garden, the flowers, the emotion it all invoked in you, none of it mattered more than the feeling of standing there with him.

“I love you so much Haru.” You whispered against him, breathing in the sweet scent of his cologne.

Haru’s arms only tightened around you in response, pulling you in closer, as his lips found his way onto yours. It was a slow and tender kiss, but beneath it, was passion and a need for more. The love Haru had kept hidden all along came undone in your shared kiss. It was as if time stopped, and the only thing existing in that moment were his lips on yours. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck in hopes of getting more out of the kiss. Haru knew you well, and so, he followed your league, his hands slightly trailing lower from your hips, yet pulling you closer.

When you two finally broke away from each other, both of you were breathless, and a small giggle escaped your mouth as Haru leaned his forehead against yours. The moment hung in the air, the flowers Haru worked so hard on planting and taking care of, surrounded you.

And as Haru picked you up into his arms, placing his lips back onto yours—you knew this moment was the beginning of a new Haru Hayate.

I really hope everyone enjoyed! This is my first time ever writing a fanfic on here, so I was really nervous to post this. I’m very new to this (if you can’t already tell), so I can understand if my writing isn’t the best. But i’ll try hard with working on improving.

Once again, thank you all for reading! and till we meet again (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

[sweetcherriexs]

missed you s'much; b.e.

smut...

billie shut the door of her car behind her with a sigh. she looked up at the house in front of here, a mixture of excitement and nerves bubbling deep down in her as she awaited your reaction. she had told you she was going to be home by saturday, only now it's thursday and she is already standing at the entrance of your shared home with her bags in hand.

she took another deep breath before stepping forward, walking to the front doors and opening then with her elbow and stepping inside. she heard the faint sound of music coming from upstairs and and she walked further inside she could recognise it as one of her own. a smile grew on her lips and she dropped her bags, making her way up the stairs as she fixed the cap on her head and the baggy tee on her torso.

she opened the bedroom door, finding you sitting by the computer, playing some kind of game with the TV playing your shared playlist on Spotify. her heart fluttered in her chest at the sight, but she still felt the lingering feeling of her previous attempts of pleasuring herself just before her flight. it's be so long, so long since she's touched you ans she needed it right now. she was needy and frustrated.

you didn't notice her presence until her hands made contact with your shoulders, pressing down and squeezing them. she leaned down, her hot breath hitting the shell of your ear. "hey, baby" she purred, fingers still massaging your shoulders. the hardness of her rings were a delicious contrast against the softness of her hands as they worked. "miss me?"

your eyes widened, head whipping around in a flash and your eyes met. "BILLIE" you exclaimed, ready to shoot up from the chair but your girlfriend’s hands held you down.

"surprise" she chuckled into your ear and you knew. immediately from the tone of her voice that she was not in the mood for sweet 'I miss you's and 'welcome back' kisses. no, she wanted to ravish you whole. "get up" she commanded and you didn't have to be told twice. as soon as her hands left your shoulders, you stood, spinning around to face her.

billie smiled, reaching out and pulling you closer by the hips. "get on the bed, pretty, I'll be right back" she hummed, running her hands up your sides and squeezing your waist before stepping back.

she disappeared downstairs and you shivered at the anticipation that flooded your senses. you didn't waste time, stripping of your — basically billie's — clothes in the flash of seconds and getting on the bed, waiting patiently, but with the desire in the pit of your stomach getting stronger by each passing second.

soon she was back, her hand was behind her back and the other by her side as she walked to the foot of the bed. when she stopped, your eyes fell to the front of her baggy jeans and you squeezed your thighs together when you noticed the outline of something huge. clearly she's been shopping on tour.

she knelt on the bed, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with a chuckle. her hidden hand came in view, the pink ribbon in your line of sight for a brief moment before you felt it wrap around your wrists.

"missed you s'much, pretty" she husked out, leaning down to kiss and bite your neck as her hands came down, hooking into the bottom of your shirt and pulling it up in a swift motion, revealing your perfect tits to her hungry gaze. in a blink of an eyes her ringed hands were gripping them, fingers pinching and pulling at your erect nipples, making your back arch, pushing your breasts more into her hands.

"fuck..." she let out a low, needy whisper and withdrew her hands, this time grabbing your pants and pulling them down along with your underwear. she looked at you, eyes locked on your wet pussy. she reached out, running a finger up your slit and making you whimper.

"please, billie" your hips bucked, you missed her touch so much, you've been craving it so long.

billie smirked, pulling her hand back once more and reach for her own belt, unbuckling it and pulling her jeans down just enough to reveal the sliver of the harness attached to her hips. she chuckle, eyes raling over your naked body with a burning desire deep in her stomach. then she finally revealed it, the pink strap-on that's most definitely bigger than any of the ones you own, attached to her hips and it was so hot. your body went rigid for a moment, breath growing shallow at the thought of that being inside you.

"like it, baby?" billie muses, wrapping her tattooed hand around the dildo while her eyes remained locked with yours.

you swallowed, your eyes locked onto the dildo. then you nodded and a second later spoke in a hushed voice. "is...is it gonna fit?"

billie's smirk widened, chuckling darkly. "oh, it will" she leaned closer, spreading your thighs apart and looking away from your eyes to look at your dripping pussy, clenching around nothing. "I'll make it fit" she glanced back at you for just one moment then she reached down, running a finger between your folds.

you gasped, mouth falling open at the single touch on your sensitive flesh. "p-please" you begged, feeling billie's finger dip inside your dripping hole for a moment. your hips twitched but her other hand held them down while she grinned and pulled her finger away.

"so wet" she said before grasping the dildo in her hand, lining the pink tip up with your entrance. "still as tight as before, baby?" she murmured, pushing the tip harder against your hoke, though it's still not quite inside, making you whine.

"yes..." you whimpered, desperate to have her inside you, to have her filling you up to the brim.

"mmm, yeah? interesting" she hummed "if I recall, you sent me a couple of...things while I was away" she raised her brows, pushing the tip in just halfway. you gasped, mouth falling open. "didn't stretch yourself out...at all?" she shook her head, sighing softly. "oh, well. I'll just have to be the one to do it" with that, with one harsh trust she plunged into you, making you scream at the intense stretch.

a mix of pleasure and pain slithered up your whole body as her hands kept your hips in place. "how's that feel?" she hummed, stroking the skin of your hip bones with her thumbs.

"s'- s'good" you moaned loudly and billie smiled with satisfaction before her left hand left your hip, slapping over your mouth. you could feel it. so fucking deep ans it made your head spin, the tip hitting places it hasn't ever before, the slight curve of the strap making it even better.

"then just stay quiet and take it" she started trusting, hips slamming against yours at a fast pace. your eyes rolled back, pleasure filling your entire body as her cock stretched you out so deliciously. "such a good girl" she panted out as she fucked roughly into you.

"I've missed you s'much" she moaned, rutting into you desperately as the entire mood shifted. she was needy. needy for you and your pussy as she trusted repeatedly.

her hand slid from your mouth, trailing down to wrap around your throat and she leaned close to your face. "been thinkin' 'bout you s'much" she breathed out, her warm breath hitting your face. "fuckin' you" her hand tightened around your throat, and you were barely making sense of her words as her pelvis began rubbing against your clit. "shit, you're s'pretty f'me" she straightened up, grabbing your hips once again and pounding into you.

"fuck fuck fuck" she muttered as she watched your pussy swallow every inch of her cock like it was nothing. "such a slut" her hand came down on the flesh of your thigh harshly before gripping it, leaving marks.

"y-...your slut. I'm your-" you tried to speak, head clouded with the pleasure you were receiving. "Oh my god, billie!" you moaned when her pace increased

you've never seen her this needy and desperate before and it was such a fucking turn on.

"yes, yes" she panted, throwing her head back while she continued to fuck you. then she tilted her head forward again and looked down at your drenched, ruined cunt. "s'all mine" she reached down, rubbing at your sensitive clit at a fast pace. it made you cry out, breath picking up pace.

"fuck, billie. i- I'm s'close" you whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt the knot in the pit of your stomach tighten.

"oh yeah?" she chuckled breathlessly, watching with wide eyes, pupils blown as your hips bucked into her touch and cock.

"mhm" you nodded quickly. the feeling was so overpowering and exhilarating that it made you want to burst.

billie hummed, hand still furiously rubbing at your pulsing clit while her cock drove into you over and over again. "beg for it"

you whined pathetically. you felt the tips of your toes tingle from how close you were and she wanted you to beg? "fuck" you cried out, heart beating loudly in your ears.

"please, billie" you breathed out, eyes rolling into the back of your head as she didn't stop her ministrations."please, please, I wan' cum f'you" you babbled. billie felt your pussy clench around her, making her hips slow the tiniest bit but her hand didn't.

"hmm .."

"p-please..." Your voice dropped lower, eyes filling with tears as you felt it so close. it was on the tip of your tongue-

"cum" she commanded, a harsh slap being delivered onto your pussy by her hand before she watched you gush all over her pelvis, hand and pink silicone cock.

"fuck, so fucking pretty" she moaned, scrunching her face uo in pleasure as she continued to trust. she reached up with her wet hand when you began to whine and protest, feeling sensitive. she placed 3 wet fingers against your lips and when you whined again, she pushed them in. your eyes widened before the feeling of her fingers on your tongue registered and you began licking your own juices off them.

"again..." she gasped out, rutting into you. "gon' make you cum again" she said in an almost whiney voice and you moaned around her fingers. "and again, and again an-..." she panted.

billie paused her trusts, using her free hand to close your legs in the air before letting them rest on one shoulder then continued fucking you, feeling the flesh of your ass slap against her thighs with each trust. the action made you moan louder, crying out as she set a rougher pace.

boy, you were in for one hell of a "welcome home' night...

[leaawrites]

All I got is you

Eli Hewson x fem!reader

Summary: In which, they both got what they wanted for so long. Each other.

Warnings: pining, fluff,

Wordcount: 1.2k

Masterlist

The apartment was quiet only the clutter of the dishes in the sink keeping his thoughts from drifting too far away from reality. The bottle grew warm in his hands as Eli was sat on the couch, watching the dark screen of the TV. Soft music was playing in the background. Grounding him for a second in time before the morning would come again and the stress of the new album would return.

His eyes flew over the room. The dirty plates were cleaned and put away hours ago, when everyone was still around. They’d done it together. It was one of the first conversation they had that evening, besides the usual greetings.

It was a get together, a quiet evening, to find peace in all the chaos and catch up with old friends who were left behind the last couple of months because of the album. She had offered to stay a bit longer than the others to help him clean up and then he got a text from Bobby: ‘It’s your chance, man’

Sighing and throwing his head back at the thought of what this meant now, Eli let his eyes wander further. Her shoes were still messily thrown on the floor in front of the door. Footsteps came nearer and soon enough, she plopped down next top him. Right in the middle of his vision.

“You alright, rock star?” she asked, giggling slightly at his tired look and lulled back head.

“All’s good,” he answered, not looking away from her.

“What’s on your mind then?” The room went quiet and for a moment he thought that dying would be better than speaking in that moment. So much could go wrong, so much could fall apart. But Rob’s words still hung in his head and the other lads agreement were slow backing vocals he couldn’t get rid off.

‘She likes you too, man,’ Rob said on one late evening in the studio as they tried figuring out a section of a song.

‘How would you know?’

‘Talked to her the other night and well, she said, that you were way too cool for her. I guess that say enough.’

‘What you talking about?’ Ryan came in just as Eli was about to answer and dismiss Rob’s words. Sitting down next to them with fresh coffee in his hands, Josh carrying in the other two cups.

‘Eli fancies Y/n and he doesn’t want the possibility to be true that she likes him back,’ Rob answered, making Eli groan in frustration of his words. They were true, still haunting.

‘Oh, she definitely likes you,’ Josh cut into the conversation. ‘Why else would she willingly spent two months on tour with us?’

‘Because we’re all friends?’ Eli suggested.

‘Because she wants you to notice her as more than that,’ Ryan corrected him.

‘Think about it,’ they all said before going back to the song, but his mind was still stuck there.

He was still stuck in the same conversation as she sat down next to him, watching with curiosity of what was going through his head, when all he was thinking about was her. She wanted it to know too, when she couldn’t forget the way they laughed together earlier that evening and how he didn’t ask her to leave yet.

It had to be something, right?

It had to mean something more than boredom to him, right?

“Do you ever -” Eli started, looking away and down to his fingers. “Have you ever thought of doing the most stupid thing in your life that you hope you won’t regret?”

“How do you mean that?”

“Nothing, it’s stupid,” he pushed the question away.

“No, it’s not. What are you talking about?”

“What if one person is all I have in life but I don’t even know if I have that person fully?”

“You’re in love?” she guessed, averting her gaze from him now too. If he was to confess, she didn’t want to see his face while thinking about it. She couldn’t see the happiness in his eyes if it wasn’t because of her.

“I guess, yes. I just-” he swallowed hard like the words he wanted to say were ought to be put away, still they came tumbling out seconds later. “I can’t stop thinking about what life would be like if- if I got to call her more than a friend.”

“We’ve been friends for so long and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that before,” she joked, nudging his shoulder and trying to lighten the tension that hung between them.

“They say the prey is always the most oblivious.”

Silence.

He was met with nothing but silence and it seemed like they were back at the beginning. Back then, when she was too shy to talk to him properly and every time he tried to make conversation it wouldn’t last longer than a few sentences.

“What?”

“All I got is you and I don’t know what to think of it,” he said, turning to her. Cursing himself for trusting Rob when seeing the shocked look all over her face. “What do you think about it?”

“I’d call it old news,” she started, heart thumbing in her chest, “but I wouldn’t mind being called more than your friend.”

“Old news, huh?” He laughed, recalling the conversation once more, laughing at the version of him who was too afraid to admit anything to even his closest friends. “Well, new headline: What about I call you mine from now on?” Winking at the end of her sentence and cringing at his own words, but it came to his head and at that moment he wasn’t afraid of saying anything anymore.

Doubling over in response and laughing at his attempt of flirting like they were strangers in a bar, she couldn’t help herself but lean forward. Closer to him.

As out of instinct, Eli wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his lap as he started laughing too. Holding her close and letting himself fall into the melody of her happiness. He couldn’t believe himself, but it worked better than he could’ve imagined. Because now, she was laying in his lap, looking up at him with the biggest smile he had ever seen directed towards him.

“I wouldn’t mind being yours,” she whispered, cradling his neck and pulling him down. Closer to her face, closer to her lips. Until they met and all fear was forgotten between them.

It was just them now, in an empty apartment late at night with the whole city asleep. Letting themself love the other uncontrollably for the first time in their lives. And neither planned on stopping anytime soon.

Definitely not when they pulled away and smiles spread on both their faces at just the other being so close. Her hands running through his hair, slightly tucking at the ends to make him notice her want for more. She wanted him and wanted her.

They were all they needed.

[st4rfckerz]

mdni 18+, boot riding (?) + licking, that’s it really

Negan sits above you, his dark eyes gleaming as he watched you on your knees before him. He had that damn smirk on his lips, the one that sent a shiver through your spine and made your stomach clench with need. He was taking his time, reveling in the sight of you like he always did, knowing just how much you wanted him.

Your breath hitched as you clutched at his belt, your fingers trembling slightly. “Negan, please,” Your voice was soft, desperate, thick with the kind of want that made your whole body ache. “I need you so bad, it hurts.”

His chuckle was low and deep, laced with amusement and something darker. “S’that so?” He tilted his head, crossing his arms against his chest, deliberately holding back. “Because I gotta say, sweetheart, you look real pretty beggin’ like that.”

You swallowed hard, your lips parting as you searched his face, trying to find the hint of mercy you knew he wouldn't give so easily. He liked to see you like this—needy, desperate, willing to do whatever it took to have him. And you were more than willing.

Negan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head in faux disappointment. “You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?” He leaned down, his fingers brushing under your chin, tilting your face up until you were staring into those sharp, wicked eyes. His smirk grew. “Beggin' like this for me? Christ, sweetheart...makes a man feel real powerful.”

His thumb traced over your bottom lip, his touch featherlight-teasing. Your breath hitched. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of leather and musk and something uniquely him filling your senses.

You were completely at his mercy. And he loved it.

“Alright. Since you asked so nicely, go on. Use my boot. Show me how much you need it.” Negan watched smugly as you hesitantly sat down on his boot, your body trembling slightly at the unfamiliar sensation. Slowly, he raised his foot, pressing the hard sole against your clothed pussy. He could feel you squirming, hear your breathy little whimpers as he rubbed the firm leather against your clit. “That's it, baby. Grind on it. Show me how bad you want it.”

You could feel your body shuddering, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you fucked yourself on his boot like a bitch in heat.

Negan leaned forward, his intense gaze never leaving your face as he reached down and hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties. With a small tug, he roughly pulled them to the side, exposing your glistening, needy cunt to the cool air of the room. “Look at her. So wet and ready, just for me.” he groaned, feeling your arms wrap around his leg. Your fingers digging into the denim of his jeans as you clung to him desperately. He watched your hips grinding harder, more urgently against his boot, your slick arousal now collecting around your pubes and coating the dull leather of Negan's boot.

With a sharp cry, your body convulsed and shuddered against Negan's leg as you came undone. Your hips jerked and spasmed, grinding your dripping cunt hard against the rough leather of his boot as wave after wave of euphoric bliss crashed over you. Negan watched with a self-satisfied smirk as you rode out your orgasm on his boot, using it like a toy to bring yourself to a shameful, desperate peak.

“Look at the mess you made baby,” he taunted, his voice dripping with mocking amusement. “Now, why don’t you clean it up for me?” You stared up at him, your cheeks flushed with humiliation. Slowly, you lowered yourself to your hands and knees, your movements hesitant and reluctant, but undeniably obedient.

When your tongue finally extended to lap at his boot, tasting the bitter mix of your own arousal and the rough, weathered leather, Negan let out a dark, rumbling laugh.

“Thaaat’s my girl, always listenin’ so well,” he praised, his voice a low, teasing purr. He tucked a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

“But don’t think we’re done yet, you owe me now.”

[m0usehouse]

~☆screaming just to see who's louder

k.bakugou x tough!reader

based on why try"by Ariana Grande

"I've been living with devils and angels"

You grew up in a harsh environment. Paying bills was always a scramble. Mean kids at school were never interested in your company or the social rejection that would come with it due to your 'ratty and disgusting' used clothing. It didn't help when you had to go without a shower cause the water bill was too high the previous month. The daily stress fights didn't help soothe your young mind either. You grew up quick, knowing that you either own the world or the world owns you

He grew up in a nice home, two parents who loved each other, constantly being praised and adored. He was strong and secure in what he wanted to be. He eventually had to process the weights such perfection came with, but his blonde hair always had a halo glow from the bright sparks in his palms. .

"Realize you and I are in the same boat"

After meeting at the entrance exam, both of you had a resolved hatred for the other. you were kind and gentle, a contrast to what you always knew. He was harsh and abrasive, a trait developed from his mother's firey personality and his own inflated ego. The first interaction was an immediate clash of heads when you politely asked him to lean over so you could see the presentation better. He took that as you trying to insult his existence and that you decided he didn't deserve to be there. It ended with you both in the same arena.

Over time, being in the same class softened spikes enough to realize you both were just hungry to become the best versions of yourselves for yourselves. Weighed down by desperation and a lack of patience.

"Kills me how you love me, then you cut me down, I'll do the same"

No one knew how to handle you two. Even teachers were conflicted. At the USJ incident, and the camp attack, you and Bakugou worked in perfect sync. Almost crazy looking smiles on your faces. The Pussy Cats even assumed you were "mates".

When Katsuki was kidnapped, you were the first to agree to saving him. You had been right alongside Midoriya when he had been taken, reaching out with that same desperation. The desperation was what burned you alive.

You two spent so much time together, bickering but with smirks and sweet smiles thrown in. Then, he'd say something cruel, and you wouldn't put up with it, always spitting a vile reply back in his face. Once the dorms were established, you both got into so many violent screaming matches that Aizawa had to switch your rooms. The fights always ended with you crying and him overworking himself because, as agonizing as the other could be, you both wanted each other close. You wanted to burn, and you wanted him to burn with you.

"We've been living like angels and devils"

He was powerful, smart, talented, and attractive. He was worshipped like a God, but crumbled like false idols always do. His wings slowly lost their pristine whiteness as he clawed for success. His anger was a weak cry for 'more, more, more'. Yet, Angels can never be God, and he wasn't even God's favorite.

You were strong but never shiny enough. Always in the shadow of bright halos, electric bolts, shining smiles, and golden hearts. You spend hours every day after class, wrecking your body to gain at least a little more strength so you'll finally be able to own the world instead of being a slave to its bitterness. Everyone knows devils work in secret. otherwise, they're cast out entirely. Devils have to steal every bit of recognition and success they get. Their hard work will never be acknowledged or seen as worthy because their desire is deemed as ugly.

"I'm loving the pain, I never want to live without it"

You and Katsuki finally became official when you both realized your anger was passion. It was that same fire inside, and it was being mutually stoked by your similarities and drive. You fought constantly. Over stupid things that would turn into big things. A regular back and forth, tit for tat but with bursts of rage that left your ears ringing. However, the fights always ended in a rough kiss. Both of you are just so pent up with existence and goals that you have nowhere to put your uncontrolled anxieties onto each other. It always ended with Katsuki making you both an overly spicy dinner to irritate you while you huffed and found a movie you knew he hated, falling asleep in each other's arms halfway through.

"Through it all, you could still make my heart skip"

Sometimes, there'd be days on end of cold shoulders, silent treatment, passive aggression. It was confusing for everyone watching, but you always ran back to him because you knew he loved you more than anyone ever could. Anyone who has a lot of love could give you more, but he gave you all of his everything. He gave you his flaws, his attention, his support, his adoration, and his respect. He saw how capable you were and the strength you earned through hard work. Those quiet days were never lonely. Other people were blind to the quick love filled glances, the random dinners left in front of your door, and the perfectly prepared protein shakes left on his nightstand when he got back from training. They didn't see the single text you'd get during those times, "still love you, pretty."

"So why do we try?"

You asked him this question once during your post-fight ritual, and he looked down at you with an incredulous smile, his furrowed brows making the playful disbelief clear.

"Baby, look at us. You drive me insane."

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 40

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1200

Masterlist

———————————————————————

It’s often said that you truly realize how much you love someone when they leave you, by the emptiness it creates.  

So yes, I loved Lucy, without a doubt.  

When she left, I was seized with spasms and uncontrollable sobs, feeling as though I was falling into an abyss.  

That night, I went to Alexia’s place. I explained everything to her, from beginning to end, pouring it all out in a flood of words, between tears.  

She was silent, listening, clearly shocked by what I was telling her. She hadn’t seen it coming. As a friend, she didn’t judge me, but held me gently, and gently scolded me for not telling her earlier.  

I stayed at her place that night, struggling to fall asleep, immersed in my dark thoughts.  

The next day, Lucy sent me a message. A message of formality, repeating what she had said the day before:  I care about you but...   I’m sorry for making you unhappy...  and the infamous  I hope you can forgive me.   

That same phrase I had said to Alessia a few months earlier. The irony of it all.  

The initial feelings of sadness and confusion were soon joined by anger and bitterness.  

I was angry at her, pure and simple. She had handled our relationship like one of her political cases. I had offered her time, the expression of my feelings, and what I truly felt. She had rejected me. And the fact that she kept insisting she made this decision  for me  drove me crazy. I had immense resentment toward her, which only grew.  

To try to forget all this, all the pain, all the frustration, and to try to forget her, I threw myself into work.  

I used to spend a lot of time in my office or on construction sites, but now, I spent all my time there, only going home to sleep.  

I had lost my appetite; I’m not one of those who eat excessively after a breakup like Bridget Jones. Instead, I just smoked more.  

 "Not in the office, Ona, and think about your lungs!"   

It was Alexia scolding me that Tuesday at noon as I was smoking a cigarette, busy sketching.  

She continued:  

 "Come on, I’m taking you out to lunch!"   

Alexia had been amazing with me over the past two weeks, supporting me, comforting me without being suffocating.  

 "I’m not hungry, I’ll eat something later!"   

 "Sure, sure! I know you! You won’t eat anything! I swear, if you don’t come with me right now, I’ll bring Jeanne’s bottle tomorrow and feed you by force!"   

I smiled and nodded, giving in.  

 "I didn’t tell you! I bumped into Lucy at the supermarket yesterday!"   

I looked up at her. Alexia continued:  

 "Well, she knows I know everything now, I think! I was with Jeanne in the same line as her, hard to miss her! She came up to me with a big smile, a little embarrassed. I wanted to tell her off so badly! But I just kept it cold..."   

I smiled to myself, imagining Alexia being cold. It didn’t suit her at all.  

 "How was she?"   

I blurted out the question without thinking.  

Alexia bit her lip.  

 "Maybe I shouldn’t have told you..."   

 "Don’t worry, Alexia, it’s fine..."   

Even though my heart was still raw.  

 "If it helps, she’s let herself go! I think she’s gained 20 kilos, and she had some fuzz on her coat, dressed in the most outdated tracksuit!"   

I laughed now. My Alexia, that ray of sunshine.  

That evening, Philippe showed up at the office. He had called over the weekend to ask if he could drop by.  

Philippe Arous was an old friend. We were neighbors when we were kids, and our parents were friends. They used to go on vacations together, so we spent a lot of time together even with our five-year age difference. He had studied journalism at Sciences Po and worked in Paris for several years. A political enthusiast, he moved back to his hometown to try his luck first as a advisor, then as mayor.  

He was quite a character—intelligent, cultured, altruistic, but also loud-mouthed, which could get him into trouble.  

He had asked me to join his campaign list in support for the latest elections, knowing of my involvement in associations. I enjoyed getting involved in concrete projects, especially when they were related to my city. That experience had been enriching, though it ended in a rather predictable loss to… Lucy.  

He arrived around 8 PM. I was alone in the office.  

I made him a coffee, and we talked about trivial things, before the subject turned to the elections:  

 "Have you heard that Lucy Bronze is running after all?"   

 "Yeah, yeah... I heard about it 15 days ago!"  I replied with a tired tone.  

 "What a surprise! This doesn’t really help our cause; she’s a political beast, that one... I’m fine-tuning my list now..."   

It’s quite a job, putting together a list.  

 "Is it going well?   

 "Yeah, we have to present it in a few days! Well, Ona, I’m here to ask if you’d like to join it! I didn’t want to at first, with the whole Mojito situation, since you were working on Lucy Bronze’s campaign too..."   

I was taken aback. He continued:  

 "But we talked about it with the team yesterday. They loved your personality, how you were involved even though you were just there in support! A real ray of sunshine, insightful and effective!"   

 "Uh... thanks..."   

I didn’t know how to respond.  

 "I’m offering you a spot on the list, possibly in an electable position if we win, and even possibly eligible if we lose with a good result. You could be a city councilor, or just be supportive if that’s too much for you!"   

This was the best! I was already dreading the election period, with Lucy’s giant posters all over the city. But this...  

I began to laugh nervously:  

 "I’m sorry, Philippe, I really can’t. I worked with Lucy for 6 months on that project, that’s enough for me!"   

I smiled inwardly at the double meaning of my words.  

 "Exactly, you know her well, and she doesn’t seem like someone you like!"   

He tried, as best he could, to convince me, listing all the arguments.  

 "Sorry, Philippe, it’s a no. But I wish you all the best of luck! I’m behind you, no doubt!"   

I wanted Lucy to lose the election, to have nothing but tears in her eyes. My resentment went that far.  

Philippe seemed disappointed as he left the office. Even if, under different circumstances, I would have jumped at the opportunity, the situation made it impossible.  

I returned to work, a new project downtown. That night, under my pencil strokes, I thought about Philippe’s offer, laughing at the irony of the situation.  

I imagined myself running in those elections, on that list. I pictured Lucy’s face, enraged and beside herself...  

Little by little, this possibility, which seemed impossible just an hour ago, took shape in my mind. Why not, after all? I wasn’t going to hold back for her!  

I grabbed my phone.  

 "Philippe? Yes, I’ve thought about it! I want in... What position? Electable!" 

[thesixthplaneteer]

OC Kiss week 2025! Day 1 - Desperate

For this one I present my sad cowboy Clive! He like pretty much all my OCs are set in VtM so there are blood mentions and this one is a bit of a downer.

I hope you enjoy!!

Spurs ring with every step of his bow legged gait. He knew the buildings that flanked the cobblestone street as well as anyone, even through the thick fog. Out ahead, piercing through the grey and gloom was a yellow light, flickering defiantly in the opaque moist air. Sounds of revelry and laughs called him in like a siren's song. It was all so familiar but so distant.

Ahead of him the light pulled free of the fog and in tow a building, the source of the laughter, blinding light shone from the windows hiding what was inside. Sitting on a crate near the closed door was a man. Face rough with stubble and spotted with dirt. He was wearing plain clothes, a linen shirt and brown pants held up by suspenders. He was thin and sinewy. Next to him a rifle leaned against the building. He cut pieces off an apple, taking a moment to savor every sweet bite.

The jingle of the spurs alerted the man, without looking up he dropped the apple and knife to pick up his rifle. Looking down the barrel he saw who approached and breathed out a sigh of relief, slumping back against the wall and resting the rifle at his side. His brow then forrowed and he pointed at the apple on the street, eyes locked on the man in spurs approaching.

“Look what you have done!” His thick french accent made his english hard to understand normally but with a mouthful of apple it was near impossible. “You made me drop my apple, Canard!” The name came out with a playful edge and pieces of partially chewed apple.

The man in spurs kept walking toward him, but stopped at the apple, knelt down, and picked it up. With a performative grunt he was back to his normal height and rubbed the apple on his shirt.

“And now you add your filth to it! Clive you are unbelievable!” He couldn't stop the smile stretching across his face.

“If you weren't jumpy as a frog, Sacha, maybe you'd still have an unbesmirched apple.” Clive said, pulling down his bandana to show his own fanged smile.

With a few more ringing steps he was face to face with Sacha. Their height difference negligible as they were nearly nose to nose. Clive's smile faded, pulling down into a frown. A twisting pain in his gut made him want to close his eyes, turn away this time, to not watch it again. But he was looking into Sacha's soft brown eyes, he couldn't look away. Red started to well up into Clive’s eyes.

“Mon Canard, so emotional.” Sacha said with a smile. “There will be more apples.”

Clive managed and wet and choked yeah. He leaned toward him, but stopped. He didn’t want it to end the same way as it always has but he needed him now, for as long as he could have him.

They both Slammed hard into the wall, the apple falling to the ground with a thud once more, the rifle clattering onto the street. He could taste the last cigarette on his tongue, the apple on his lips. Taking hold of a fist full of hair and an arm around his waist he held Sacha in place, not that he was trying to pull away. Sacha's own hands came up to Clive's face, knocking his hat from his head. Their mustaches pricked each other's lips and scraped their tongues as they twisted around each other. Clive’s eyes were now closed, held tightly shut. For a moment, it seemed the worst wouldn’t come. But it did. It always did. Always ending the same way.

He felt Sacha's hands fall from his face, the apple and cigarette tastes gave way to chalky ash. The cheers and laughter inside turn to screams, loud and desperate. The bright Light pouring from the windows grew hotter and brighter, until the windows shattered, and glass sprayed out with orange yellow flame following.

Clive opened his eyes. He didn't want to but he had to. It always ended the same way. It had To end the same way, with him staring up at his ceiling alone.

Thick red blood pooled out over him and into the bathtub he used as a bed. He coughed, dislodging a clot that formed in the unhealing wound across his throat. Echoes of the sounds, the taste, the touch, of his beloved Sacha faded. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't change it. No matter how many times he tried.

He pulled himself out of the tub, wiped away the blood, and donned his hat. It's a new night, it will be the same. The night will end. It will be the same. Still he goes into the night.

[sincerity--extreme]

I try to be as respectful as possible with everyone, people are different and they believe in different things and that's no reason to not respect someone obviously but, whenever I see those EXTREMELY religious people turning to someone and saying "oh, but God/Jesus didn't help you because you didn't pray hard enough/cause you didn't believe hard enough" it disgust me SOOOOOO much, the person is already suffering and your choice is to go judge them, shame then for not practicing YOUR religion like you believe it's right, or you can't take them questioning things you believe in, even if they aren't actually talking to you about it, so you tell them it's their fault that they're sick or that a loved one died or that they're going through an extremely hard time and are suffering and, I'm sorry, but that's one of the most fucked up things I've ever seen and that... I just can't deal respectfully with those people as they also don't respect me