#How to improve your eye vision?
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srghospital1 · 25 days ago
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Eat for Your Eyes: Foods That Support Vision Health
Our eyes are the mirrors to the world and at the same time we do not cherish a moment to think of their care. Some of the preventive measures include; Visiting an eye doctor for check-ups, protecting your eyes from Ultraviolet radiation and last not the least appropriate diet. Transforming the composition of what is consumed with nutrient dense foods will improve eye health and reduce the odds of age related vision deterioration. Here are detailed instructions as to how to use these foods to improve the health of your eyes:
1. Carrots: Vitamin A
Carrots: Vitamin A Again makes a strong appearance, packaging the potato with the energy needed for night vision.
Many historical and folk stories are literally ‘carotene-rich’ and indeed, carrots are really good for your eyes. They are rich in beta-carotene, which is vitamin A which is an invaluable vitamin in the enhancement of good vision. It often helps the retina and contributes to better night vision as well as can lessen the chance of dry eye syndromes and many other eye issues. Thus, inclusion of carrots in your salads or carrot juice can be useful in how to maintain your eyes health.
2. Spinach & Kale: Amazing Roles of Vitamin K to One's Eye Health
Green vegetables such as spinach and kale are among the rich sources of nutrients that help out your eyes in many ways. These greens are rich in lutein and zeaxanthin which are antioxidants that safeguard your eyes from dangerous UV radiation and blowing blue light. Furthermore, they have Vitamin K which is crucial to overall health of the eye tissue, and reduction of macular degeneration. Add them to your diet by using them in a blender to make your smoothies or making a colorful salad using the green vegetables.
3. Walnuts & Almonds: Vitamin E for Stronger Eyes
Tree nuts such as walnuts and almonds contain vitamin E; an antioxidant vitamin that safeguards the eyes cells against destructive oxidation. In addition, vitamin E minimizes the prevalence of age-related cataracts and macular degeneration eye complications.
Why You Should Always Make Sure To Take Balanced Diet For Your Eyes
Eyes need a number of nutrients in order to work properly. There are other important foods for the eyes: Eat lots of carrots, spinach, kale, walnuts, and almonds, but also other foods containing vitamin C, such as citrus fruits, omega-3 fatty acids like fish, and zinc, such as whole grains. Along with these nutrients, it helps in cutting inflammation levels, avoiding eye diseases and enhancing vision.
Fast and Easy Tips to Healthy Eating for the Eyes
Try one spin of spinach and almond smoothie in the morning.
They can be added to soups or in stir fry foods like vegetables or meat.
You can consume a mixture of both walnuts and almonds as a mid morning and mid afternoon snack.
For lunch try a kale salad with olive oil as it contains good nutrients for the body.
Consumers should strive to add different types of colorful vegetables in the meals to meet the nutritional needs of the body.
Eye Care Measures Taken Bite By Bite
The status of your eyes depends on you – or more accurately — on what you eat. Including those foods in your diet will help you maintain good vision and safeguard your eyes’ health. Thus, start today and give your eyes the nutrition they need and deserve.
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lylahammar · 6 months ago
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Artistic "advice" that follows this format of "do this ✅ don't do this ❌" has ALWAYS been a massive pet peeve of mine, and this is a huge one of many reasons. There is no "right" way to do art, I don't care what your personal feelings are about it. You can have stylistic preferences, but that's subjective personal taste, there are no rules. A lot of the time, this kind of advice comes off very counterintuitive and anti-stylization.
But in the case of what OP's talking about, it's an even larger issue. The spectrum of body types on the planet is MASSIVE and more diverse than any single artist can imagine. Literally any physical human trait that you can claim is "incorrect" in art is present in someone, often a lot of people, in the world. Stop telling people they're wrong for drawing in a certain way. It's entirely unhelpful. It's far more productive to give advice on how to find reference material and use it to help you represent specific traits that you have in mind.
you know those posts that are like
INCORRECT way to draw a fat body ❌
CORRECT way to draw a fat body ✅
I saw someone use an example of a body that had a round potbelly and slimmer limbs for the INCORRECT version, saying it looked bloated or pregnant… when it literally looked exactly like my body.
yes it’s important to know the dynamics of body fat on characters, how it hangs, how it folds, etc. because a lot of people draw fat characters as Skinny Lite™️ and that’s a representation issue.
but as long as a character is big and round?? that’s a fat person! fat people look like that too!
#I might not have phrased this as well as I wanted to#I have a LOT of thoughts about this particular subject and I had to cut out a lot of what I was rambling about#bc I didn't wanna get too off topic lmao#it's just so fucking antithetical to the purpose of art#art isn't about absorbing a specific person's particular way of doing things and regurgitating it verbatim in your own work#it's a huge misconception that art is about training your hand to create better shapes#I would argue that art is far more about the eye#your ability to properly SEE things and translate it into your medium#that's why you might think something you draw is perfect and incredible at one point#and then later down the line look back at that piece and see all the flaws#it's not your hand that improved it's your EYES#basically what I'm saying is everyone needs to stop putting so much stock in popular artist so-and-so mcgee's advice#and instead focus on finding good reference material to work with#and practice using that reference material to help your vision come to life#sorry like I said this got off subject of what OP's talking about lmao but that's why I'm keeping the rant in the tags#but what OP said is definitely the most directly unethical part of it all#that kind of art advice tends to be the worst when it comes to drawing different body types#it's almost always bad in a lot of very fatphobic ways#there's just a lot of problems with it and not everyone was meant to be a damn art teacher no matter how skilled they are#fat liberation
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rileyslibrary · 1 year ago
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After suffering a gunshot wound, you wake up in a hospital bed with Ghost sitting by your side. Unfortunately, the effects of anaesthesia leave you unable to recognise him and, worse, confuse him with someone else.
A/N: Fluff. Based on a request I received a while ago. Hope you like it, anon!
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A machine on your left beeps rhythmically. The taste of something metallic lingers in your mouth, and the iodine smell stinks your nostrils. Your eyes open slowly, but the bright ceiling light forces them shut again. You lick your lips and attempt to swallow a couple of times. Dry. Your mouth is dry. You need water. Your hand moves towards your face, but a low, raspy voice advises you against it.
“Careful now,” it says, and a hand gently grabs your wrist. “Don’t pull the IV off.”
You turn your head towards the figure beside you and squint. It’s a man, but your blurry vision doesn’t help you identify him. Your eyes travel to your wrist and focus on the closest part of him: a skeleton’s hand.
You try to shake your hand off his grip, but it turns out futile. Frustrated, you give up and raise your middle finger at him.
“Not my time yet,” you declare. “Fuck off.”
“Pardon?” he asks.
“Not ready to go yet,” you reply, tucking your middle finger in your palm and lifting it back up again. “And also, fuck off.”
The man releases your wrist, placing your hand gently beside you. He clears his throat and leans forward. Though your vision remains blurry, you spot what looks like a human skull with a hood over it.
“How are you feeling, love?” he asks, his tone softer.
“How am I feeling, love?” you repeat. “Did Hell improve their customer service?”
“I’m not-” The man begins but pauses. He sighs, shakes his head and rests his elbows on his thighs. “Never mind.”
“Where am I?” You ask.
“Hospital.” He replies. “You took a bullet.”
Directing your attention to your body, you feel a dull throb in your chest. You wince as your fingers brush against the bandages.
“You are joking.” You reply and slap your hand on the bed. “Why? How?”
“Well,” He says and tilts his head to the side. “You exchanged a few shots with the enemy, your gun ran out of bullets, his didn’t, and here we are.”
“My gun?” You ask, shocked. “I have a gun?”
“Several.” He nods.
“SEVERAL?” You shout. “Why would I possibly need several guns?”
“It’s your job, love.” He replies.
“My job is to have several guns?” you ask. “And shooting at people?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he explains, “but it’s mainly for defence.”
“Well,” you shrug and wince at the pain. “Doesn’t look like I’m that good at defence—especially for having several guns.”
“I was really worr—”
“Water,” you interrupt and gesture at your mouth. “I need water.”
“Doctor said it’s not the time for water yet,” he replies.
“Why?” you ask, pretending to check a non-existent wristwatch. “What time is it?”
“No, love,” he replies and muffles a chuckle. “Doctor said you need to wait until you have some water.”
“You throw the ‘love’ thing a little too freely,” you mumble, licking your lips and lifting your index finger. “I’d be really careful if I were you.”
“Really?” he asks, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Why?”
“I,” you say and point at yourself, “got a boyfriend, thank you very much.”
“Oh,” he exclaims and tilts his head. “Is that so.”
“Yup,” you nod. “And he can kill you.”
“Can he?”
“Can?” You say, and a smug smile forms on your dry lips. “He will absolutely, one hundred and a thousand per cent kill you.”
“Is he that good?” He asks.
“I mean,” you shrug, motioning at the bandages on your chest. “He’s much better than I am.”
“Oh wow,” he exclaims and leans forward. “Is he as good of a boyfriend as he is a shooter?”
“Far from it,” you reply, letting your hand fall to your side.
The man doesn’t speak. He doesn’t seem that comfortable all of a sudden. He shuffles in his chair, trying to find a better position, and when he does, he clasps his hands together.
“Go on,” he finally says. “Spill it.”
“Ok, so,” you begin, “first things first, he doesn’t listen to me when I want to vent, and whenever he does, all he says is nonsense.”
“The lad gives you solutions,” he snaps, “and you call them nonsense?”
“I don’t want solutions, man,” you reply, shaking your head. “I want him to just listen to me.”
“Even if the solutions he provides are literally the answers to your suffering?”
“Even then.” You confirm.
“Gotcha,” he nods. “What else?”
“Oof,” you sigh, “how much time do you have?”
“I’m immortal,” he reminds you, “plus the next reaping is in five hours.”
“Oh boy,” you reply. “Business not going that well lately, huh?”
“Not many deaths to take care of,” he spits. “I guess some people could use some serious training when it comes to their aim.”
“Speaking of training,” you say, ���he’s always at work and never spends much time with me.”
“The guy’s trying to spend as much time with you as he can, for fucks sake!” he shouts, throwing his hands up. “He even lied to get you on his team!”
“How do you know he put me on his team?” You ask.
“I keep a close eye on him.” He replies.
“What did he lie about?”
“Your precision in aiming,” he jokes and motions for you to continue. “Next one.”
“I can’t think of anything else,” you reply. “Other than he doesn’t say how much he loves me.”
“You’re having a laugh now, aren’t you?” He says, and his tone feels almost threatening. “He’s showing it to you daily; offering advice, keeping you close to him, even risking the possibility of being accused of nepotism for crying out loud! He doesn’t need to say it as well for you to know it!”
“It’s just nice to hear it sometimes,” you sigh and twist a thread from the bed sheet. You turn your head slightly toward him, and he lowers his head to the ground.
“How about you?” You ask. “You have a girlfriend?”
“I do,” he confirms.
“Shut up!” You shout, widening your eyes and immediately closing them back again. “Where did you guys meet?”
“Hell,” he replies. “Right in the pits of it.”
“How is she?” You ask.
“Perfect.” He states.
“Bullshit,” you murmur. “No one’s perfect.”
“She is to me.” He says, shrugging.
“Do you love her?” You ask.
“Absolutely,” he replies, nodding slowly. “One hundred and a thousand per cent I do.”
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69yard · 2 years ago
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Avocado Health Benefits and nutritional Value, Protein in 1 Avocado
The protein content in one avocado can vary slightly depending on its size and variety. On average, a medium-sized avocado weighing approximately 150 grams contains about 2 grams of protein. However, it’s important to note that avocados are not a significant source of protein compared to other foods like meat, dairy, legumes, or nuts. Avocados are primarily known for their healthy fats and are…
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hermaeusmorax · 2 months ago
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What have you done?
CHARACTERS: Jayce x reader, slight Viktor x reader (more platonic!)
SUMMARY: you, Jayce and Viktor share history. You're arguing with Jayce about his actions in the Undercity. Reader is described having a metal arm!
WARNINGS: SET IN SEASON 02 EPISODE 06 SPOILERS AHEAD! this is very angsty, descriptions of death and bodies, gets steamy in the end (minors DNI!), enemies to lovers type shit (my jam!)
A/N: okay so this is my very first piece after a 4 years HIATUS (hiii haha), anyways, fucked up Hexcore!Jayce is just sooo *twirls hair*
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"What have you done?" You scream as you blindly lunge towards Jayce, a random weapon tightly clutched in your hands — no doubt discarded by some, now dead, Noxian soldier. You could barely see an inch in front of you due to the surging chaos, but you were sure about Jayce, you would never mistake him, his silhouette, his scent.
It had been months since Jinx's attack on the Counsil. Months since Viktor emerged out of the Hexcore changed, taking you to Zaun with him and leaving Jayce behind. You were a chemist, Viktor's childhood best friend that stuck by him since the very beginning. You and Jayce had a brief, intense, spark. It happened before him and Mel, before it became hard to grasp his attention, being Piltover's golden star and everything. It hurt when you left him, standing at the laboratory, his pleading brown eyes boring holes into yours and Viktor's backs. But Viktor was right, your paths, your visions, had long strayed, being held together only by lasting affection.
In Zaun, at Viktor's — The Herald's — growing community, you acted as a chemist again. Helping the newly cured zaunites, researching to improve their lives as much as possible. You had been specially busy since Vander's arrival, severely mutilated by Viktor's former teacher and in desperate need of help. You were working in your makeshift lab, absent mindedly humming a familiar tune when hell broke loose.
A loud, sharp sound echoed, followed by more crashing sounds and piercing screams. Smoke rose in the air, making it almost impossible to inhale. For a split second you could hear Viktor's voice in your head whispering, "Jayce", you ran as fast as your legs permitted, desperate to locate the origin of the sound, to locate Viktor. When you finally did find them, you wished you hadn't. The starking image of his limp and dead body made your breath hitch, mind speeding so much to make sense of things it made you dizzy. Blood rushed to your ears, making a deafening ringing sound, you rubbed your eyes, squinting to adjust, then you saw another figure, a tall and dark frame.
Jayce looked, different, but your brain had no time to process that information as you grabbed the first weapon you could find thrown on the floor, lunging at him. "What did you do?" "How could you?" "I hate you!" you breathlessly shout, aiming for Jayce's head with your stray weapon, then again, you never were much of a fighter, that was Jayce's job. The last thing you heard before the world went complete black, was his voice, a cry of your name, sounding so broken and lost.
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"Sorry for knocking you out like that. I hope your head's not hurting too much." you heard Jayce's soft voice, distant at first as you were regaining consciousness, then close, right at your ears. You slowly woke up, blinking the throbbing pain away you were at last able to recognize your surroundings.
Jayce had brought you to your old laboratory, right at Piltover's heart, where you had last seen him, where you had left him. You were sitting in a chair, your mechanical arm resting on the table beside you, laying alongside dirty, well-worn tools. "I fixed it. Your arm. It looked broken and I-" Jayce blurted out, stopping with a nervous chuckle when you looked at him. "My technique might not be as delicate as Viktor's but it's fixed, working. I promise!". When Viktor's name left Jayce's lips, a haunting image of his corpse flashed in your mind, compelling you to leap forward and forcefully grab Jayce's collar, gripping so tight your knuckles turned white, drained of blood. You were trembling horribly, fueled by an ugly mixture of grief and hatred, your words came out hoarse, stinging like a whip.
"You promise? Ha! You killed him Jayce! You- you just disappear and then when you finally come to us, you go and kill him? What's wrong with you? I don't know you anymore, you've become someone else entirely and I- No!" you were panting, tears angrily threatening to spill "That's too gentle for you, you're a murderer, Jayce, a monster!".
Jayce's mind was racing, spinning with the force of your words and then it finally snapped. "Shut the fuck up!" he tore your hands away from his shirt, holding your wrists and pulling you close, pressed up against his chest. "You have no idea Y/N! You can't possibly begin to understand what I was put through!" "I was in there, while you and Viktor were out here playing house!" "I kept my promise!".
Jayce's eyes were red, frantically shaking looking into your own, in desperate search of something. He was so close, you could feel his heartbeat and his breath fanning your face, his scent was attacking your nostrils mercilessly, engulfing you in his presence. Like this you could almost see the old Jayce inside there, somewhere — untainted, full of promise — the one you fell hard for. All it took was a single look from him. A single, meaningful, glance down to your mouth from his so pretty brown eyes. He was so, so close. Next thing you knew you and Jayce were in each other's arms, kissing so forcefully it almost broke skin. Kissing like your very lives depend on it, like you'll die of asphyxiation if you stop.
Jayce hoisted you up the table, sending tools and papers flying, both of you couldn't care less right now. He positioned himself in between your legs, leaning some of his body weight on you, forcing your back to meet the cold surface beneath. "Jayce!" you breathed out, talking into his mouth, gasping for air and breaking the kiss for a second too long. Your hands, firmly resting on the back of his neck, wandered to the hem of your shirt, fidgeting with it, trying to lose it. Jayce noticed and made quick work of your shirt, hurriedly sliding it over your head and tossing aside to a forgotten corner.
"Don't stop" you huffed against him again, voice dripping with want, you struggled blindly to unbuckle his belt, too busy reciprocating his fervent kisses to bother to look down. "I got you" Jayce urged, going crazy with the way your lips felt on his, even more addicting than he remembers. He reached down, tugging off your pants and underwear in one precise motion. Your senses were completely overwhelmed, all you were able to think, see, hear, smell and feel was Jayce.
You were both pouring everything into this kiss, into this very moment. Bleeding years of bottled up love and regrets into each other's systems. Even still, you harbored feelings for him, and him you. Despite the hurricane of emotions and thoughts swirling inside your head, a small, nagging voice coming from the darkest dephts of your mind, kept quietly chanting "What have you done, Y/N?"
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lcvemiyuki · 7 months ago
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pilates workout | ushijima, hq
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃𓂃𓂃
content: ushijima asks you for help on improving his core and balance
warnings: timeskip!ushijima x reader, established relationship, just a tad suggestive, fluff
characters: ushijima
word count: 502
a/n: you can tell how much i've been thinking about this😅...ushijima’s muscles go brrrrrr
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
“Toshi—no, you have to tighten your core more.”
You were determined to support your boyfriend, so when he asked for advice on strengthening his core and enhancing his balance, you took it as your mission. You were aware of Ushijima’s resolve and aimed to match it.
“Mm,” he grumbled, acknowledging your guidance as he adjusted his arms, moving back into the planking position.
Despite his incredible strength, the strain in his muscles was visible as he struggled to maintain his posture. His wide shoulders trembled slightly, and sweat trickled down his temple.
Circling him, you focused on making sure his workout was effective. “C’mon, just thirty more seconds. Keep your arms straight.”
As his hips began to sag again, you sighed lightly and crouched beside him. Gently, you placed your hands on his waist, feeling the warmth of his skin. “Here, like this,” you said softly, guiding his hips back into position.
His quietness was telling, the occasional nod indicated he was taking in your instructions. You could sense the effort in his muscles.
“I should add this to my workout schedule,” he stated, his voice steady despite the exertion.
“To spend more time with you,” he added sincerely.
Leaning in, you whispered, “I’d like that.” His words pulling on your heartstrings.
Your hands stayed on him a little longer as you looked into his olive-green eyes.
The sound of your phone alarm shattered the moment. Yet, the warm feeling lingered even after you turned it off.
Ushijima gently reclined on the yoga mat, the fabric sticking to his sweaty skin. He lay flat on his back, drawing deep, steady breaths. His powerful arms moved behind his head, veins bulging as he began to cool down.
You brought him a small, white towel and crouched near his head. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, you leaned in closer, pressing a quick, affectionate kiss on his forehead.
“Your reward,” you whispered, smiling at him.
His eyes opened slowly, meeting yours with an intensity that quickened your pulse. His gaze traced your features, saying more than words could.
His chest rose and fell rhythmically, his body glistening under the soft light. The sight was mesmerizing as your peripheral vision caught a glimpse of his waistband, which hung low enough to reveal the two sculpted grooves that trailed even deeper down.
Ushijima reached up, the back of his hand brushing against your cheek. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“Anytime,” you replied softly, your heart racing as you hoped the warmth blossoming on your cheeks matched the heat of his hands.
There was a certain part of you, a hidden, daring side, that wanted to push him even further, just to see more of the sight of him now— sprawled out on the floor taking deep, heavy breaths.
A playful smirk crossed your face.
“What’s with the face, my love?” Ushijima’s deep voice pierced your bubble of thought.
“Oh! Nothing,” you assured him. “Now,” you clasped your hands together, “let’s continue, shall we?” you suggest, blinking innocently.
𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼
want more?
⤷ masterlist.
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saeun · 2 months ago
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megumi fushiguro x reader 𓂃 drabble.
+ love, ‘su: what happens when your friend's brother is your type? flirting! not beta read mb
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“can i date your brother?”
“that loser?!”
a smile works up your face, signaling to your friend that you are half joking and half serious. truth be told, you've been eyeing her brother for a while. he's awkward around you, messy hair that never seems to settle, gentle with touching, and not to mention his honey-glazed voice.
“go ahead. i was beginning to question him anyway.”
and just like that, you began plotting. the frequency of your visits to the fushiguro's increased tenfold, and so did the eye contact between you and megumi.
whenever your eyes caught his, you'd flash him a sweet smile, softening your eyes at him.
unfortunately, megumi can't reciprocate. he's malfunctioning on spot, bringing the back of his hand to cover him biting his lips, and the blush that creeps up whenever you're provoking him.
days upon days of subtle flirting turn into weeks. eventually, megumi got used to your advances. he's even mustered up the courage to answer you back.
little did he know that his improvements would crumble within one night. all the research on how to flirt back, questioning his sister about you, hearting your posts on social media washed down the drain.
it's not unusual to see megumi at the gym. he's a guy that cares a lot for his lean figure. abs that aren't too prominent, biceps that aren't big, but you can see them when he's in a tank top, and slightly toned thighs. he believes it's the perfect combination for himself.
besides this, all confidence is lost when you walk in the gym. what are you doing here? fuck knows why— you're unpredictable.
he's on the treadmill, getting his minutes in while he pretends he's not looking at you through his peripheral vision. it's obvious your destination is right beside him.
suddenly getting eight-minutes on the treadmill doesn't seem impossible. surely not when he's trying his best to not look at you.
your stare burns into him, heating his body as if you placed a fraction of the sun inside him. your eyes trail along his body, admiring his build. it's coincidentally just in line with your taste.
“you're drenched in sweat.” throwing the hand towel over your shoulder, you put a hand on your hip.
“y-yeah. been at it for an hour.” slowing his pace, he replies to you, taking in deep breaths whenever he can.
“the treadmill?!”
coming to a stop, he steps off the treadmill, taking your towel to assist himself.
“no, i meant the entire workout.”
your face contorted in disbelief at the sight of your towel being dirtied.
megumi pays no mind to your expressions, enjoying the satisfaction of being semi-dry instead of beads of sweat trickling down the sides of his face.
the satisfaction ends when he felt a finger poke his chest, then it slid down the middle of his torso, stopping right above his belly button.
you giggle at his reaction. finding it amusing the way he tensed up at your touch.
“well, aren't you fit.” you teased, smiling at him.
megumi scoffs, grabbing your wrist with his hand. his grip is firm — ensuring that you won't be able to wiggle your hand out.
“how long are you going to do this, y/n?”
“do what?” feigning innocence, you shrugged at him.
at that point, he breaks. he's fed up and hates it when he's placed in guessing games. it's either you commit to the bit, or leave him alone — okay, no. he doesn't want you to leave him alone, but you get the point.
lowering his head to your ears, he whispers, “you know what i'm talking about.”
has his voice always been that deep? you wondered to yourself, ignoring the chills his whisper sent.
you turn your head away from him, bringing yourself back to reality.
“then do something about it.”
“you've got quite the tongue, y/n.”
“thanks, i got it from my mother!” your quick remarks are back, but you're still avoiding eye contact.
maybe it's the fact that he's obviously irritated—or maybe it's his now see-through tank top that's making it impossible for you to continue your usual endeavours.
annoyed, megumi leans back, rolling his shoulders. his hand's still holding your wrist, and the other's settled in his sweatpant's pocket.
“let's go back.” a heavy sigh left him.
“but i just got here!” you refused to leave.
“you already saw what you came for. it's time to go, y/n.”
he walked forward, pulling you behind him. the irritated feeling long replaced by the heartbeat that's booming in his ears. tonight's the night one of you will become victorious.
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hexhomos · 1 month ago
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little random but i really appreciate your dissections and analysis of Mel mainly bc the fandom either adore her and won't admit she is a flawed character and get over defensive when you call her out, or straight up hate her and make her out to be completely evil.
Mel is written as morally grey for a reason and when ppl try to act like she was morally correct in everything she did, it goes against the whole plot. yes, she regrets most of her actions by the end of the series and is left to deal with her family's leagacy and the weight of her actions, but that doesn't undo anything she did. and her eventually starting to care about Jayce doesn't just cancel out that she manipulated him (you'd think this would be obvious)
what bothers me the most i think is meljay shippers who say Jayce mistreated her and that Mel only ever helped and care about him and aided him in rising to power politically, and how she was so understanding of Jayce's and Viktor's friendship. yes, encouraging methods of political corruption in order to gain more power is so caring and kind of her! ❤️
Mel might've told Jayce to go spend time with Viktor after finding out he was ill, but the one time in the show she interacted with Viktor was... prejudiced to say the least. she never directly spoke to or answered Viktor, and the expression on her face any time she looked over at Viktor was so clearly full of dislike. it shocks me ppl still believe Mel and Viktor could get along and respect one another, especially romantically. no way.
anyways, sorry for the rant. just tired of how many bad takes there are in this fandom and very fond of your account lol
you are right and you SHOULD say it re: that oft repeated argument about her "only wanting what's best for him" bothers me so much. Its just... weirdly patronizing and spousing pro-piltover nationalism every time i see it being brought up. "She's doing what anyone would do/what is best for the city!" IDK MAN I AM NOT ROCKING WITH THAT. Im not an ubercapitalist. I don't think any of that was the good option actually lol. Probably I hate piltover too much to humor these arguments but from day 1 we are shown this is a city of immense class inequality in which the elite few holds all the power and all the profit gains at the cost of everyone else's submission and humanity. (Not for nothing: these are also the classic old guard Noxian tenets of supremacy. That's how they do colonization.)
The interactions Mel has with Jayce for majority of the series, before she watches that bomb come in and has her rapid onset change of heart, are her talking about how investors want his work and how she can use his discovery to advance this city (which is already built on exploitation!) or instigating his rise to power as a new ringleader for the council's rigged mercantile operations, and this is just not good or heroic in any way to me. This isn't love either, it's industrial convenience. The fact that she's conflicted by the end doesn't cancel these actions out! Jayce realizes that he's been used in ways he strongly disagrees with and any the affection in that dynamic vanishes instantly. The time he spends in isolation replaying his mistakes in that cave has an emphasis on mel/heimerdinger's voice on the council too, all of his regrets with blindly following someone else's vision or disappointing an idol he held in high regards.
And Jayce DOES care about the state of the cities, or he did before the writers forgot: He's the one who pleads for Zaun's independence at the end of season 1! He's the one who spent all his life trying to work towards improving the lives of common people, giving them the miracles they've been denied!
Viktor is a fucking nobody. He is extremely worthless in the eyes of the piltovan upper crust, only kept around on the merits working with Jayce have afforded him; and they still don't care. They're probably hoping he dies quicker. We *SEE* him being singled out and alienated during that weapons discussion where Mel is pleading for Jayce to think about "protecting his people" (only piltovans, never, ever zaunites- protecting piltovans against the zaunite menace.) and Viktor is set off at that whole exchange because it doesn't matter how loud he screams, these people can just tune him off and pretend he doesn't exist anyway. It's what they're used to doing. It drives me insane!!!!! His indignation is extremely under-explored and very inline with his act1 speech of feeling like an undesirable presence in piltover and having to push through with the grit of his teeth. It's open faced classism and I still see people pretending it didn't happen. Fandom makes all of these characters FAR less interesting by defanging them. The heart is in the friction and in the ugliness of them fucking up because they have very, very different conceptions of "utopia" - and some of those utopias require the death of the other characters present.
A lot of the Arcane character arcs have to do with realizing the above, and weighing if the sacrifice is worth the risk. Sometimes it turns out their utopias were shit.
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willyoubemycherryy · 29 days ago
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𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃’𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌. (𝐹.𝒯𝒾𝑔𝑒𝓁𝒶𝒶𝓇)
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This is unexpected I know but I saw wicked recently and it changed me. I love that man so go ahead and call me Metallica because nothing else matters. Here, have my heart it’s yours.
Contains: emotional distress, mentions of anxiety, angst, comfort, established relationship insults, allusions to smut, Fiyero x reader
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⋆✴︎˚。⋆
•. ° ⋆✴︎ ˚。⋆
Being at Shiz was supposed to be a good fit for you. Everyone here has a gift just like you so naturally, you’d blend right in.
No muss, no fuss…right?
Wrong.
Your “gift” quickly turned into a curse when you found yourself involved with a certain irritatingly charming prince whose heart was secretly bigger than those eyes he’s always roaming over you with.
How you got into this was a mystery because normally men like Fiyero simply weren’t your type. Free spirited, flirtatious, distracting, thoughtless…he was almost cavalier. But you soon found out that there were no men like Fiyero because he was one of a kind; although you weren’t sure what kind and you could never bring yourself to ignore him….
And so your relationship was formed.
You noticed you two were opposites yet with Fiyero it seemed like the thought never quite occurred to him. That unconditional affection for everyone he so easily held about him was what did you in. The way he lulled people together, outcasts and norms didn’t matter, it all made your organized world spin out of orbit with him at the center. And oh how pleasant spinning was.
The warm tingling that raced through you when he’d take your hand, gently kissing his way up from the back of your hand to the crux underneath your ear leading to your jaw, brushing your hair to your opposite shoulder so he could place a few more warm, generous kisses on the sensitive skin around that area, purposefully ignoring your quiet sighs of bliss, before finally kissing your lips and asking tenderly,
“How is my darling girl today, hm?”
Yes, being with Fiyero was a dream. So why…
Why have you been plagued with visions of him meeting a most terrible and lonely end?
They started off fleeting- your visions- a little glimpse of your love in a field then darkness before they began to escalate drastically. You would see your Fiyero in a field and in that field he appeared to be fighting guards before being outnumbered and taken away. The next time your vision changed…and Fiyero along with it. That was what ultimately broke you. The same field but only this time there was no Fiyero.
Only a scarecrow.
But the posted up thing seemed so familiar to you, the jacket reminding you of big hands around your waist while you held on the the muscled arms of that same jacket, smiling and laughing breathlessly as you were spun, music and life playing as you two danced on…as the memory faded, that’s when you realized that that was Fiyero. You woke up bawling in a cold sweat, almost delirious with grief.
The dream visions kept happening.
You resorted to napping only when necessary but that was never long, so on top of sleep deprivation your anxiety was off the charts. The slightest thing seemed to always snap something in you which made your mood and eventually appearance- tank. In other words, you were a wreck.
Fiyero, obviously, was the first to notice and decided he wouldn’t push you to talk about it if you weren’t ready so he decided to just stay by your side as he always did but he made his presence softer, more gentle.
For you. He’d do anything for you.
Only you didn’t improve much. Dark circles, the way your anxiety grew to panic, especially when Fiyero wasn’t around and it was becoming difficult to ignore. The way you became almost frantic about him. Out of your mind with worry.
One day it all gave when you were studying in his dorm suite and he grew restless. Not wanting to disturb you, Fiyero gave a soft kiss to the top of your head, smiling at the cute focus lines on your forehead as you read, before slipping out the door for a walk around, to get rid of some of the extra energy. You hadn’t even noticed until almost an hour later when you look up and your Fiyero is nowhere to be found. Panic set in immediately.
It was like gravity suddenly failing as everything you’d been holding back came crashing into the surface. The fear of losing him and the joy he bought you with something as simple as his smile, the grief of knowing how badly you’d miss him if something happened and he’d be taken away from you, the sadness because you needed him, loving him more than he’ll ever know. Both your panic and despair led to the flood of tears.
You tried to breathe, to think rationally, but you just couldn’t, exhausted by the weight of your emotions.
Left crying for what felt like eons, the door suddenly swings open, quick loud footsteps then big warm hands cup your face looking at you with all the concern in the world as you sob hopelessly.
Fiyero’s eyes search your face with a frown. It’s true that you’ve been having a difficult time these last few weeks, though he’s not sure what’s been causing it but seeing you like this…on his knees Fiyero suddenly wraps his arms around you, crushing you to his chest as he brings a hand to hold the back of your head, tucking you under his chin, soothing you until you quiet. The wetness on his shirt, the mess of your lovely hair, the shattered mirrors from the impact of your emotions; none of that matters more than how you’re actually feeling. What’s truly wrong with you.
“Please”, the desperation in his voice brings a fresh wave of tears that spill down your cheeks but he has to know,
“tell me princess, what is it thats filled you with such sadness?”
Your voice is hoarse when you take a deep breath and downright pained when you reply.
“Don’t go away from me. Stay with me, by my side, you can’t leave you can’t-!” Fiyero stops your incoming meltdown by tightening his hold on you, shushing you gently, before titling your chin with a bent index finger, heartbreak bleeding into his eyes as he sees the fear in yours.
“How ever could I go away from you?”, he asks, lightly shaking his head. “I’ll always be here. Why? Do you think I’ll leave?” You can tell from the way he’s speaking that he’s not trying to upset you even though he’s unaware of the image his question brings you, still you answer. “…no. I’m worried you’ll be stolen- taken from me. Gone in every world where I’d never get to be with you again”, and Fiyero’s eyes widen in shock.
“Who would take me awa-“, you cut him off as the truth spills out into the air. Your visions, the way you know they’re caused by that underlying evil that’s been plaguing Oz like a slow working poison, even him and the scarecrow. You tell him everything down from the very night you got the first vision of him in that damned field. By the end you’re gasping through the stream of tears that break up your wails and Fiyero reels for a moment with parts victory and fear. Victory because ha! He knew Oz was off and fear because your visions were never wrong…either way..you were basically telling him that he was going to die.
And that’s been the cause of your recent state.
You weren’t just sad- you were mourning.
Mourning him.
In a lot of ways, you two were connected. You loved him and he loved you. When you are together- hell- when you’re simply in the same space, your hearts beat the same beat. Not a pump out of place and Fiyero felt that, when he hugs you and your chest is pressed to his or sometimes more intimately…warmth over your naked forms as he rocks into you deeper, claiming your mouth in pleasure as your nails rake down his back. His chest is pressed against yours then too, your hearts both beating as one, even as he drives into all your senses with a catching heat you could never control.
He was also the first not to be weary of your visions the way most people were. It was a rare gift so not much was known about foretellers and people tended to fear what they didn’t understand but there was a constant stigma that they only foretold catastrophe. He knew that wasn’t true as bad does need good and you only proved his point.
Starting with when you casually foretold him to make sure his fly isn’t down in the mess hall that Wednesday like you saw it would be, leading to quite the moment. And unlike most people, Fiyero did not heed your warning, he simply let his pants be. After the embarrassment of the entire student body noticing and things had quieted to their normal schedule, you cornered him in the hall and called him every kind of dimwit imaginable.
“Moron! You daft, airheaded, twittle brained, dim witted, dumb, doe-eyed, idiot buffoon! Did you not hear a wit of what I told you Monday?!”
“I-“
“I wasn’t finished! I told you so you could keep it from happening! Having a pleasing face and pretty smile won’t always distract everyone from your mishaps! Be more responsible!”
That’s when he realized it. One, that foretellers weren’t all about doom and gloom; and two, the delicious way you didn’t hesitate to lay into him like others never did, with that scowl on your pretty face showed him that he needed to have you.
“Ah, so you find my face to be pleasing?” The flush that bloomed across your face made him smirk as he let his ego take over.
“You’re not wrong. It is quite pleasing, in more ways than one-“, you cut him off with a scandalized gasp, promptly turning on your heel and scurrying away with a slightly tinted face. The implications of his words giving you quite the head-rush. Oh, you were so going down.
Only it wasn’t easy. You didn’t want him when he was Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie Country- no. You preferred him when he was just..Fiyero. So now seeing the woman who loves him for him breakdown because you were petrified of losing him made a pit settle in his stomach that he desperately wanted to wish away as he rushed to comfort you.
“Shhh, hey, it’s alright. I’m here- right here. Nothing is taking me away from you. I wouldn’t let it.” The hushed whisper of his words fell over you like a blanket but the nagging worry was still there.
“But what-“
“No what if’s. I will not go anywhere that you can’t follow.”
The resolution in his voice makes you look up, staring at him through blurry wet eyes, closing them when he bought his hand up to wipe them, cooing softly. Silence took over as you allowed yourself to calm, taking him in. The sound of his voice, how he spoke, the gleam that was forever in his eye, the broad heat from his body, the lovely smell that always clung to him and rubbed off on you, even his hands. In the silence you whisper back to him.
“Promise me”, you’ll swear him to it, if that’s what it takes to keep him strictly by your side.
“I promise.” Of course he does, and without hesitation.
Wordlessly, you’re lifted and carried a short distance before you’re laid down, back falling into the plush comforters around you as Fiyero settles over top of you, raining slow tender kisses across your face. The familiarity of such a position makes you flush as your hands find purchase on his wide shoulders.
“I’m afraid, my pet, that we still have another problem…”, he trails off as you try to stay grounded.
“Mmm-oh! And what is that problem?” It takes longer than you would have preferred to get the words out, through the haze of Fiyero’s big hands caressing up your sides in a slow drag, thumbing at the sides of your breasts as he settles between your legs. Movements slow, languid.
“The problem”, he pauses to lave his tongue across the underside of your jaw, the hot wet muscle working as the kisses to your neck become molten, “..is how sad you still look.”
Look sad? You? You doubt it. The confused sound that leaves your dazed self makes him smile.
Your heart skips a hard beat when Fiyero presses himself against you, drinking in the way your teary eyes flutter back in pleasure with a bite of his lip, successfully having distracted you.
“Don’t worry though, it’s an easy enough fix…”, answering him coherently is the last thing on your mind as you let out a belated ‘hm’. Fiyero intentionally rolls his hips against your heat as your hands fly to his chest, working to get his shirt open with a whine.
“Yeah, told you I’m right here-“, he says pressing down on your lower tummy, “but I think it would help more for you to feel it no?”
Your response is pulling his head down to your lips, wanting him all over you as he licks into your mouth….
Afterwards when he’s tired you out enough to put you to sleep; there are no nightmares. No visions.
That night, or any of the ones after.
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claramelooo · 1 month ago
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I think I don't need made it clear, but cheat is wrong and if you agree with this, you have a huge character flaw, improve!
Finally the moment has arrived!
Enjoy it! <3
MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT
Warning: + 18
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Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat Fem reader
Summary: Wanda's jealousy makes her take an important step in your relationship
Read here: Prologue | Part 1 - Predator | Part 2 - The Prey | Part 3 - On Your Knees | Part 5 - The Lamb
Velvet Chains
The Spider
The church bells echoed through the neighborhood, announcing the start of the Sunday mass. You were late—as always. You sat discreetly in the back pews, trying to blend in with the crowd of familiar faces. But it didn’t take long for your eyes to be drawn to the front, where the Maximoff family sat in their usual spot.
There was Wanda, sitting upright next to Vision, with Billy and Tommy between them. The twins were impeccable, in little suits that made their rosy cheeks look even more innocent. Vision, ever composed, was the picture of the devoted husband and present father. Wanda, in turn, seemed to radiate grace and serenity.
You watched as she tilted her head to listen to something Tommy was whispering, a gentle smile curving her lips. There was something so perfect about the scene that it was almost suffocating. The way she adjusted her son’s tie with quick, delicate fingers, how Vision placed a protective hand on Billy’s shoulder, how the four of them seemed like a living painting of family harmony.
The congregation adored them. The approving glances and knowing smiles all around were impossible to ignore. It was clear that everyone saw Wanda and her family as a model to be followed—a beacon of perfection in an imperfect world.
But you couldn’t stop wondering: If she’s so happy, why does she look at me like that?
The thought hit you hard, and you quickly averted your gaze, feeling your heart race. You tried to focus on the sermon, but the priest’s words seemed blurry. All you could see was her.
As the service went on, you watched her out of the corner of your eye. She looked so devout, hands clasped in prayer, eyes closed, but there was something beneath that facade of holiness you couldn’t ignore. A barely perceptible tension in her shoulders, a shadow in her smile.
And then, when everyone’s eyes were closed, singing the hymn, it happened. You caught her looking.
It was quick, but enough for you to know it wasn’t your imagination. Her gaze met yours, just a second longer than it should have, before she diverted her attention to the children. It was a look heavy with something you couldn’t fully decipher—desire, frustration, maybe even desperation.
"She’s so good at this," you thought, feeling a lump in your throat. "So good at seeming perfect."
As soon as the service ended, you rushed straight out of the sacred temple—to avoid any contact with anyone—and ended up bumping into another person.
“Y/n?” The familiar female voice rang in your mind like bells.
“Yelena?” You asked weakly.
As soon as the words left your mouth, Yelena tilted her head to the side, a smile forming on her face as though she had just remembered an old inside joke. "Wow, so you’re still alive? I thought you had been sent off to a convent or something."
You opened your mouth to respond, but Yelena was already laughing, that laugh you always found contagious. "And you’re still as clumsy as ever," she continued, crossing her arms and sizing you up.
"I’m not clumsy," you replied, but stumbled over your words, which only made her smile widen.
"Oh, yes, you are!" Yelena shot back, taking a step back as if bracing for an imminent explosion. "But you’ve grown up well, I see."
You felt your cheeks burn, but before you could think of a witty response, Yelena stepped closer and gave you a sudden hug. "It’s good to see you, Y/n," she said, her voice softening. "I thought I’d never run into you again."
You couldn’t help but smile—that smile that seemed to come from a forgotten place, a hidden corner of your memory where Yelena always held a special space. But before you could say anything, she pulled back and raised an eyebrow. "So, do you still only fancy girls? Or have you 'grown out of it'?"
Your jaw dropped at the audacity, but the teasing glint in Yelena’s eyes made it clear she was just playing around. "Tsk, you never change!" you replied, crossing your arms and trying to look indignant.
"Oh, good," Yelena said, shrugging. "I prefer you this way. Way more interesting than these smiling hypocrites around here." She glanced around, making it clear she was talking about the very place you were in.
From a distance, Wanda watched the interaction with narrowed eyes, the kind smile she wore as a mask beginning to fade. Her chest burned with something she didn’t want to name—jealousy.
Who was this woman who made you smile so easily? Who pulled genuine laughter from you while Wanda herself struggled to coax even a shy smile? Wanda felt her fingers involuntarily tighten on her purse strap as her eyes followed every movement of their interaction.
Oh, she sees.
Yelena.
The problematic daughter of the church, the black sheep in a flock of immaculate whiteness. Wanda vaguely remembered her from the sermons years ago: messy blonde hair, clothes always a little out of place from the modest standard expected, and an attitude that seemed to shout defiance with every breath.
Yelena never fit in. She was the type of person who asked uncomfortable questions during Bible studies, who laughed loudly when no one else found anything funny, who made a point of standing out even in an environment where uniformity was seen as a virtue.
And now, there she was, as comfortable and confident as ever, talking to you like she had every right in the world to occupy space in your life.
Wanda gritted her teeth, hatred bubbling inside her with a force that almost scared her. It was irrational, of course. Yelena hadn’t done anything directly to Wanda, but that only made her irritation grow. The blonde seemed to exist to provoke, to rebel, to remind Wanda of everything she considered chaotic and unnecessary.
And now, she was pulling you into this world. So when Yelena tilted her head and gave you a playful tap on the shoulder, Wanda saw everything in shades of scarlet.
“You really are a mess,” Yelena said, laughing. “But I think I missed this.”
“Well, you’re not perfect either,” you replied, rolling your eyes.
“Of course not,” Yelena retorted, winking. “But at least I’m fun.”
Your laughter echoed in the air, and Wanda turned abruptly, marching away with firm, calculated steps. "Fun," she thought, her teeth clenched. "She doesn’t need fun. She needs focus. She needs me."
Yelena was a symbol of everything Wanda despised and feared: chaos, disobedience, questioning. And now, she had you. She made you smile. She made you open up in a way Wanda couldn’t.
Wanda took a deep breath, trying to compose herself while watching from afar, her nails digging into the palm of her hand. She knew it was irrational. But, at the same time, she knew she’d do anything to keep Yelena away from you.
[...]
Your shift at the library was coming to an end, and you hadn't seen the woman who haunted your dreams. In fact, you hadn't seen her since Sunday at church. Instead of offering you personal mentoring, Wanda had simply written what you should study and made a few comments on your essays.
Had you done something? Hurt her? Made her angry? Had something happened?
Your thoughts vanished the moment her figure appeared in front of you, as though she had been there all along. Wanda stood in front of a bookshelf, seemingly deep in thought.
“Wanda, I–” You tried to speak, but she turned to face you, making you stop mid-sentence. Wanda shot you an enigmatic look before turning back to the shelf, picking up a few books and placing them on your desk.
"Your shift is almost over," she said. Hearing her voice after a few days made your heart race. "Do you think you could help me take these books to my place? The boys have a test next week, they need to study."
"Y-yes," you replied, mentally kicking yourself for stammering.
Wanda's eyes brightened for a moment, a smile curling at the corner of her lips.
"I'll wait for you in the car, then," she handed you the keys and walked out.
The weight of the moment seemed to hang in the air as Wanda left, leaving only the trace of her overwhelming presence behind. You held your breath for a moment, the cold library keys in your hand, your mind spinning in a whirl of questions.
Why had she been distant these past few days? Why did she seem so... different now?
You finished organizing your things, carefully locked the door, and walked toward the parking lot, the weight of the books in your arms mirroring the heaviness in your chest. Wanda’s car was there, parked under the shade of a tree, and she was in the driver's seat, the window rolled down, her eyes focused on something in the distance.
As you approached, Wanda looked at you and gave a slight smile, but there was something in her gaze that unsettled you—a glimmer that felt both warm and dangerous.
"Get in," she said, her voice low and soft, almost an invitation, yet with the firmness of an order. You obeyed, placing the books in the back seat and sitting beside her. The silence that followed was thick, but not uncomfortable; it was charged, like a rope stretched to its breaking point.
Wanda drove with calculated ease, her fingers holding the wheel with the same delicacy with which she seemed to handle everything in life. Occasionally, she’d glance in your direction, and you could feel the intensity of her gaze, even without turning your head.
“You’ve been working well,” she said, finally breaking the silence.
“Thank you,” you replied, trying to sound neutral, though the stammer almost came back.
The silence reigned all the way to her house. “We’re here,” she announced, parking in front of a house that looked straight out of a catalog: an immaculate garden, a white fence, flowers perfectly aligned.
She got out of the car with grace, and you followed, balancing the books in your arms while trying not to trip.
The house was as perfect inside as it was outside, decorated with a flawless balance of coziness and sophistication. The sound of children laughing echoed in the distance, but Wanda moved with calm, guiding you into the living room.
"Leave the books here," she indicated a table, and you obeyed.
When you turned to her, Wanda was standing closer than you expected, arms crossed, that unreadable look on her face again.
"Thanks for the help," she said, and there was something in her tone, a softness that almost felt… maternal.
Billy and Tommy pulled her attention, asking for help with a question about the test. Wanda leaned toward them, answering with patience and care, the kind of mother any child would dream of having. But even while talking to her sons, her thoughts were on you, and the overwhelming desire to have you completely under her control surged inside her like an unstoppable tide.
She stood up again when the boys returned to the living room, turning back to you with a gentle smile—a smile that masked the storm raging inside her. “The boys will be fine now. Do you want something to drink?”
You hesitated, the discomfort obvious. “I think I should go, Wanda. I don’t want to impose.”
"Impose?" she repeated, almost laughing. But there was something in her laugh—something tense. “You would never impose on me, Y/n.”
The softness of her words made something stir inside you. You wanted to believe it was just kindness, but you knew it was more than that. There was an intensity in her eyes that held you captive, pulling you in like a magnet.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice low.
“Then don’t say anything,” she murmured, almost like an order. She moved closer, her steps slow, deliberate. “Just… stay here with me.”
Something inside you screamed that you should leave, that you should escape this overwhelming sensation, but your legs wouldn’t move. It was as if she had already wrapped you in an invisible web, and you couldn’t break free.
“And Vision?” Of all the things, that was the first thing you managed to say.
"Business trip," she said, placing a cup of hot chocolate on the table while she sipped a carefree glass of wine. You shot her a curious look. “What?”
“Hot chocolate? Are you serious?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, with a hint of humor in your question.
“You’re too young for wine, and coffee is out of the question,” she replied, while pouring herself more wine—almost like a playful challenge.
“I drink coffee,” you countered.
“The person who offered you that should be arrested. Or killed,” she smiled behind her glass, the corner of her lips curling into a questionable humor.
You laughed, even though you tried to hold it back. Her lighthearted comment was an unexpected break in the tension that always seemed to exist between you two. Holding your cup of hot chocolate, you took a small sip and narrowed your eyes at her, pretending to disapprove.
“I’ll pretend this isn’t just jealousy because I’m young,” you said, arching an eyebrow.
Wanda smiled crookedly, a smile that seemed to light up the room. “Maybe I just like to tease you,” she said, joking, but there was something behind the teasing, a depth you couldn’t ignore.
You shook your head, smiling, trying to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Well, mission accomplished.”
She tilted her head, watching you with curious eyes, as if trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re funny when you’re uncomfortable, you know?”
“That’s a strange compliment, Wanda,” you replied, taking another sip of the hot chocolate. “Or are you saying you like to see me uncomfortable?”
“I like to see you any way, my sweet,” she answered casually, but the intensity in her gaze contradicted the lightness of her words. You felt your stomach churn with the implicit confession.
“That was… forward,” you murmured, looking away. “It’s not common to hear that, you know?”
“Maybe because no one else has had the courage to say it before.” Her reply came quickly, almost as if it had been rehearsed. She took another sip of wine, her eyes still fixed on you. “But I’m not like the others, Y/n.”
You looked at her, studying every detail: the green eyes that seemed to pierce your soul, the way she held her glass with a confidence that seemed natural. “No, you’re definitely not like the others,” you said, before you could stop yourself.
For a moment, silence fell between you two, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was heavy, laden with something neither of you wanted to name. Then Wanda broke the moment, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, as though studying you.
“Tell me something,” she said, suddenly changing the subject. “Something no one else knows about you.
“Something no one else knows?” you repeated, blinking in surprise.
“Yeah. A secret. A memory. Something big or small, it doesn’t matter. I want to know more about you,” she explained, her voice so soft it was almost hypnotizing.
You hesitated, feeling vulnerable under her gaze, but at the same time, there was something inviting in the way she waited for your answer. “Okay… I used to collect rocks when I was a kid,” you finally said, laughing softly.
Wanda raised her eyebrows, clearly intrigued. “Rocks? Seriously?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed, laughing again. “But they weren’t just rocks. Each one had a story. Some were ‘magical,’ others ‘cursed.’ I’d make a huge drama about it.”
She laughed softly, her laughter’s melody seeming to fill the space around you. “That’s adorable. And it makes sense. You seem like someone who would bring rocks to life.”
You protested, but her laughter was so contagious, and soon you were laughing too.
As the laughter died down, she looked at you with a soft, almost protective expression. “See? This. That smile. That’s what I’ve wanted to see for so long.” Wanda whispered, her eyes fixed on you—clearly enchanted.
You remained silent, feeling an unexpected warmth spreading through your chest. Something was changing, deepening between you both, but you didn’t know whether to be afraid or simply accept it.
The conversation began softly as Wanda sat next to you on the couch, the dim light of the late afternoon casting soft shadows around the room. She watched you as if trying to see beyond the words, beyond the silence. When she finally broke the moment, her voice was calm, yet direct.
“Tell me more about your old life. I’d like to know you better,” she asked, her head slightly tilted, her eyes attentive.
You looked away, your fingers nervously playing with the sleeve of your sweater. “It’s complicated.”
Wanda didn’t relent. “I want to understand you. I want to know what happened to you. I can see there’s something weighing on you, something you carry alone.”
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her persistence. Something in the maternal tone of her voice, in the gentle firmness of her presence, made the words slip out before you could hold them back. “I was sent to a Catholic boarding school in England when I was 17.”
Wanda raised her eyebrows, surprised. “A Catholic boarding school? That sounds... ironic, coming from your family.”
You laughed, but the sound was bitter. “Yeah, ironic is one word for it. They wanted to ‘correct’ me.” You made air quotes with your fingers, sarcasm clear in your voice.
She fell silent, giving you space to continue.
“I was accused of… well, trying to kiss a girl named Sharon. Some neighbors saw us talking too close to each other and decided to make up their stories. That was enough to make my parents panic. And just like that, there I was, with a one-way ticket to a nunnery, where I was supposed to learn to be a ‘good girl.’”
Wanda sighed, leaning in a little closer, the warmth of her presence a surprising comfort. “And there? How was it?”
You hesitated, but something in her expression — the patience, the care — encouraged you. “I met Kate there. She was the rebel, the girl who did whatever she wanted and defied the rules. And me? Well, I was the shy one. She teased me all the time, laughed at my seriousness. Until one day, behind the chapel, she kissed me.”
Wanda’s eyes brightened with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. “And then?”
“Then, one of the nuns caught us. Kate denied everything, of course. Said I forced her, said I was a freak. I was punished. They said I was a bad influence on the other girls.” Your voice trembled as you relived the moment, but you kept going. “My family stayed silent. No one defended me. It was as if they finally had an excuse to give up on me.”
Wanda reached out, softly touching your hand, the warmth of her skin against yours anchoring you. “They were wrong,” she said, her voice firm and full of emotion. “Everything about them is wrong, Y/n.”
You looked at her, your eyes welling up. “Why do you care so much? Why do you want to know?”
She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she leaned in closer, enveloping you in her arms. Your head found her shoulder, and she began to stroke your hair with gentle fingers. “Because I see you, Dorogaya. I see how special you are, even if no one has ever told you that before.”
You felt the tears fall, but also a calm that seemed impossible. “I just... wanted to be enough.”
She cupped your face with both hands, lifting it so your eyes met hers. “You are enough. You always have been.”
Before you could respond, her lips met yours. The kiss was soft, but firm, filled with a security you hadn’t felt in so long. There was no rush, no urgency. Just warmth that seemed to envelop you, as if she were trying to convey everything words couldn’t.
Wanda’s hands moved to your waist, gripping your curves.
“Stick your tongue out, Dekta.” She stroked behind your ears, sending a shiver through you.
You moaned softly when you felt Wanda’s hungry tongue meet yours, coaxing you to give in. Her alcohol-tinged, aphrodisiac breath intoxicating you. It was so intense, so distinct… you never thought you could be touched like this, in such a… possessive way.
Your nails dug into Wanda’s back, trying to hold onto something, anything as the kiss deepened.
It didn’t take long for Wanda to tug at the hair at the back of your neck, making the kiss addictive, and soon she was pushing you back, making you lie on the sofa cushions, coming over you. Her body became her only focus — and seeing you so vulnerable, she simply couldn’t resist.
Bold and full of lust, Wanda slid her hands under your shirt, her fingers touching the skin of your stomach, making you gasp. Her plan was to make an even bolder move, grabbing your perfect breasts and squeezing your nipples under the fabric of your bra. However, a noise from upstairs made you both pull apart abruptly.
The kiss had been a spark in the fog Wanda hadn’t even realized surrounded her. It felt as though something dormant inside her for years had finally awakened. Her days with Vision, her impeccably perfect routine, her polite smiles to her children — it all felt like it had been lived in black and white.
But your touch, your lips, brought color.
Wanda felt a warmth radiating from her chest, spreading through her entire body. It wasn’t just desire; it was something deeper, something that made her feel alive in a way she thought she’d forgotten. The world around her seemed to vanish, leaving only the sensation of you, so close, so genuine.
When she finally pulled away, her eyes remained locked on yours, as if trying to memorize every detail. A small, almost shy smile appeared on her lips. Not the smile full of control she usually wore as armor, but something genuine, unarmed.
You made her realize there was something more to feel, more to live. That the safety and routine she knew maybe weren’t enough. The instant your lips met hers, Wanda realized she didn’t want to go back to black and white. You were her reason to see the world in color again.
You swallowed hard, trying to compose your thoughts, but doubt began to grow inside you. “Wanda…” Your voice came out low, almost pleading. “What does this mean? What are we doing?”
The woman pulled back slightly, still watching you, her dark eyes reflecting the embarrassment that consumed you. What was she looking for in you? What were you seeking in her? You wanted answers but didn’t know if you were ready for them.
“I…” and for the first time since meeting Wanda, you saw her falter. “I’m tremendously attracted to you, Y/n.” She confessed. “Would you be interested in having an affair?”
Your heart raced, pounding frantically in your chest. Wanda’s proposal made your mind spin in a whirlwind of thoughts. The air between you two felt charged with electricity, the tension almost palpable. Her gaze didn’t leave yours, keeping you locked in the intensity of her dark eyes.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I... You’re a married woman, Wanda.” Your voice trembled, reflecting the confusion and desire fighting within you.
Wanda slightly tilted her head, a sad smile appearing on her lips. “And you think I don’t know that?” Her voice was soft, but there was a hint of exasperation. “You think I don’t think about it every time I look at you, every time I feel this thing inside me?”
"Thing?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.
She took a step forward, closing the distance between you again. "This... need I feel... This connection. It's different from anything I've ever felt before, Y/n."
Your mind screamed to pull back, but your body remained still, absorbing every word. "And Vision? Your children? The church?"
Wanda looked away for a moment, as if the mention of them was an open wound. "They are my family, my duty! But you... you came out of nowhere and became something I can't ignore. I don't want to ignore it."
"This isn't fair." Your voice faltered, a lump growing in your throat. "It's not fair to them. It's not fair to me."
She sighed deeply, and for a moment, you saw a vulnerability in her that seemed impossible. "I know. And yet, here we are, aren't we? I can't get you out of my head, Y/n. You've made me question everything... All the things I thought were right, all the things I thought I knew about myself. And if this is wrong, then... I don’t want to be right."
The silence that followed was heavy. The world around you seemed to fade as you fought against the whirlwind of emotions Wanda had triggered in you.
"I don't know if I can do this," you finally admitted, your voice fragile.
Wanda came closer, and this time, her hands found yours. The warmth of her touch was undeniable, as comforting as it was overwhelming. "I don't expect you to have all the answers right now," she said, almost in a whisper. "But I know that this, whatever it is between us, is real. And I'm willing to risk anything to find out."
You looked into her eyes, searching for something that could help you decide. And, in the end, you found the security you had longed for—not in the situation, but in her.
"I... accept." Your voice barely made it out, but Wanda heard it.
The smile that lit up her face was like the sunrise after an endless night. A smile so bright and true that it made you want to lose yourself in it, want to preserve it at any cost. And in that moment, something broke inside you—or maybe something finally clicked into place. The weight on your chest wasn’t doubt, nor fear. It was something deeper, something more dangerous. It was your own obsession.
What would you do to keep that smile? To hold onto that warmth, that feeling of being seen, of being desired, as something precious? Everything? Maybe.
"I accept," you repeated, this time more firmly, your voice echoing like a promise in the dark room. Wanda smiled again, but now there was something different in the shine of her eyes, as if she knew she had won you over, that she had pulled you into her web and there was no escaping now. "But I've never done this... None of this." You let out a shy whisper. Your confession sounded like a timid prayer, a whisper of vulnerability that Wanda knew she would never forget.
She watched every nuance of your face—the way your eyes avoided hers, how your restless hands searched for something to hold onto, and the blush that rose on your cheeks. So inexperienced, so raw. A blank canvas waiting to be painted, molded by her hands.
It was more than attraction. It was power. A power that enveloped her like a sweet, intoxicating poison, while her mind simmered with ideas of how to guide you, how to corrupt you. Wanda wanted to be the only one to show you everything—the possibilities, the sensations, what desire really meant.
"This is good," she finally murmured, moving closer, her voice low and almost maternal. "It means you're all mine to discover."
She raised her hand, the touch of her fingers running smoothly down the side of your face, almost as if she were examining a precious jewel. You leaned slightly into the touch, like a flower seeking the sun, and the innocent gesture made Wanda bite her lip, struggling to contain the growing desire.
"You trust me, don't you?" she asked, with a softness that masked the true weight of the question.
Your eyes finally met hers, hesitant but sincere. "I trust you," you answered, and Wanda felt a shiver run down her spine.
That trust, so freely given, so unprotected, made her want to devour you, and at the same time, protect every piece of your soul. She knew she was treading dangerous ground, but the desire to shape you, to be the first and only one to mark your skin and your heart, was stronger than any sense of reason that might still exist.
She held your face gently, her thumbs tracing invisible lines on your cheeks with the tips of her fingers. "You don't know how much it means to hear that, my girl," she murmured, as if trying to keep every word deep within her soul.
"I know," you replied, because you knew. You knew how it felt to fall into someone else's abyss, how it felt to be willing to be consumed just to keep feeling the warmth they brought.
Her lips met yours again, but this time the kiss was more intense, as if Wanda was trying to leave a mark, as if she were trying to brand you in a way that could never be erased. You responded with the same hunger, holding onto her wrists as if afraid she might disappear.
She pushed you hard back, and you hit your hip on the corner of the table—what would give you a bruise later, but that mattered little when you sucked in and received Wanda’s demanding tongue into yours.
The woman lifted you up, making you sit on the table so she could press her palm against your pussy, and you moaned, muffled by the kiss as you bit her lip and she gasped.
You didn't have much experience, but you knew this feeling was not common. A kind of dangerous desire to feel, it was corrosive and you could see control slipping through your fingers like trying to hold beach sand.
When the air ran out, the separation was necessary, and you could hear Wanda protesting quietly. Pressing your foreheads together, still panting, you held her gaze, feeling your heart beat like a drum in your chest. "You make me feel like there's nothing else in the world that matters."
It was true. It was dark, it was reckless, but it was true.
You knew you were stepping into dangerous territory. But looking at Wanda, with her eyes burning with emotion and her fingers still tracing your skin, you also knew you were willing to risk it. Even if that meant burning.
Wanda tilted her head, still so close to you that the heat of her breath brushed your skin. The smile on her lips was something between satisfaction and a veiled challenge, as if she were fully aware of the power she held over you—and relished it.
Yelena... the name wouldn't leave the woman's mind, taking her to a limbo of insecurities and uncertainties she didn’t even know she had. Making her feel fear. Yet now, the girl was nothing more than a private joke.
How could she think someone so insignificant could steal you from her? That she could destabilize what Wanda was trying to build with you? It was almost adorable how she still didn’t understand. Wanda let out a smile, almost indulgent, still lost in thoughts—while her fingers caressed your neck.
Yelena. 
She had no idea how much time she was wasting. Wanda wasn’t just attractive, she was necessary, the missing piece in your life, the one who could give you everything you needed—or rather, everything you hadn’t yet realized you needed. She knew exactly how to dominate, how to guide, how to make you feel that you couldn’t live without her. And Yelena... Yelena was just a passing obstacle.
The anger of seeing someone else approach you, even if only with words or looks, was a flame Wanda preferred not to feed. She didn’t need it. But all insecurity was gone when you gave yourself to her in such a... complete, raw way. 
Wanda had something deeper with you. Something more lasting. Something that couldn’t be shaken.
She could try as much as she wanted, thought Wanda, with a satisfied smile. But you, Y/n, are already mine. And that... that is something neither she nor anyone can change.
The feeling of control, of being the only one to offer security, warmth, and pleasure, filled Wanda like a drug. She knew you didn’t need anything else. Nothing but her. As she looked at you intently, the thought lingered: She can try... but you've already given in. "I'm the only one who can give you what you want." And that made her smile again. Because, in the end, Yelena could never compete with what Wanda knew she had in her hands.
In that moment, Wanda was like a spider finding an innocuous corner to weave her web. The longer she spent weaving, the more fabulous her construction became, though few noticed—her threads were almost invisible. A spider doesn’t need to exert effort or leave her place to feed—in absolute silence, she waits for her prey to approach and get caught in her web, so she can devour it.
~*~
Y/n, you'll be devoured.
Tag List <3
@vyvvycg @3liyuh @rosekjsses @3liyuh @idkwhatever580 @valentine585 @beggingonmykneesforher @trindad2k
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pumpkinbxtch · 7 months ago
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Can you plzz do a percy smut where he only rubs the readers clit bc the reader is too scared to finger herself, but then she gets the courage to finger herself and charles shows her how to do it??
confidence
— percy jackson x fem!reader
warnings; recommended for +18, smut and nsfw things happening.
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tags; fingering, language, the reader is inexperienced, angst if you squint, A little dom!percy but he's really sweet a/n; so yeah, it had to being percy the first smut request ever, thanks it's the first time so please forgive me if i failed, lol. I will improve, I swear
"You're doing so well..." he murmured a few inches from your ear, sending a shiver down your spine that made you press even closer to his chest.
The room was filled only with the dim light of the setting sun and the sweet sounds Percy coaxed from you as his fingers massaged your clit under your already soaked panties. The constant movement of his fingertips on that sweet spot had you lifting your hips, seeking more, but he kept you in check, placing his free hand on your tummy and planting wet kisses on your neck.
"Such an impatient girl," your boyfriend whispered playfully, and you felt his smile on your cheek as he gathered your juices. That brief moment near your entrance made your pussy clench painfully around nothing, increasing your desperation. You squirmed on his lap, eliciting a growl from him due to the hard bulge pressing against your lower back. Yet, what you desired didn't happen.
"Uh, Percy... please."
The dark-haired man clicked his tongue repeatedly in disapproval and deliberately slowed his movements. Your whines became audible as you lifted your hips again, trying to find relief on your own. Instead, your boyfriend pressed you back against him, making you whimper softly.
"I know, I know," he said apologetically while nibbling on your ear, his own hips grinding against you, trying to alleviate some of the growing pain. Percy loved hearing you, especially when you seemed so needy. "But this is the only way, sweetheart..."
And you knew it. You knew what game you were playing, but your sensation-clouded mind was working against—or maybe for—you. It was something you wanted, and he was helping you with it, as you'd never been able to touch yourself more than superficially.
Percy's fingers brushed toward your entrance, and he chastely dipped his fingertips in. A moan began to form in your throat, and your heartbeat quickened.
"Please," you mewled pathetically, and he kissed your cheek warmly. Taking your hand, which had been clutching the sheets, he placed it on your pussy.
"If you want it so badly, you'll have to do it yourself, princess."
Those were the words you had hoped deep down would never be said, but you were so worked up you didn't know if you could resist trying. In a second, with his hand still guiding you, your fingers replaced Percy's, which had moved to your top to play with your breasts.
"Need some help, sweetheart?" he asked while tightening his grip on your hips. You nodded slightly, your heart about to burst.
"Words."
"Yes," you breathed.
Not long after his hips encouraged you to do so, your fingers finally entered, and stars filled your vision. It was the first time you could feel yourself, becoming a mess of moans and babbles as your boyfriend continued to touch you elsewhere, making the tension in your stomach grow, threatening to explode.
"Oh, now you know, huh?" Percy whispered in your ear, breathless, his eyes fixed on the spectacle you provided. "You know why I go crazy every time I'm inside you, because you're so damn tight."
At his words, it was inevitable that your walls clenched again, this time around your fingers, and you let out a loud moan that almost made your boyfriend come just from watching you. You whimpered and pumped your fingers, knowing you wouldn't last long with the new sensation. When you finally closed your eyes tightly, your body tensing completely, Percy knew you had succeeded.
He helped you handle the overwhelming emotion, hugging you tightly and whispering sweet things in your ear.
"That's right, Angel," he said before giving you another kiss on the cheek, your weight now almost entirely on his chest. "You just had to have a little confidence."
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st4rtar0t · 3 months ago
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How will your future spouse describe you to their family and friends?
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Picture 1
(you might be attracted to pile 2)
Your future spouse will speak of you with a deep sense of admiration and respect. They will describe you as someone who is dedicated, hardworking, and constantly striving to grow and improve. To them, you are a person who puts their heart into everything they do, whether it’s your work, your passions, or your relationships. They will be proud of your determination, and they’ll often speak of how much they admire your focus and drive. They will also say that you have a sharp mind, someone who is quick, intelligent, and unafraid to speak up. You are not one to hold back when it comes to what you believe in, and you have a curious spirit that is always eager to learn and understand more about the world. Your future spouse will see you as someone who inspires others with your energy and clear sense of purpose. Yet, they will also acknowledge the times when you have faced struggles and hardships. They see the strength it has taken for you to rise above your challenges, and they admire your resilience. To them, you are not defined by your wounds, but by the way you have learned from them and grown stronger. Your journey, with all its ups and downs, is something they deeply respect, and they’ll often talk about how proud they are of your ability to endure and keep moving forward. At the same time, there is a softness about you that they will cherish. They will describe you as someone with a warm, nurturing heart, full of compassion and empathy. You have the ability to make others feel safe and understood, and this gentle side of you will be something they speak of with great fondness. To them, your kindness and emotional depth are rare gifts, and they will often share how much they treasure the love and care you show, not just to them, but to everyone around you. Most importantly, they will see you as a light in their life. You bring joy, warmth, and positivity, even on the darkest days. They will describe you as a person who has a way of making everything brighter, who reminds them of the beauty and goodness in the world. To their friends and family, they will say that you are their source of happiness, a beacon of hope, and a reason to smile. In their eyes, you are both strong and gentle, wise and playful, someone who makes the world a better place just by being in it.
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Picture 2
(You might also want to read pile 1)
Both pile 1 and 2 have similar energy
Your future spouse would describe you as someone who carries a sense of completeness and grace, as if you bring everything full circle. To them, you are a guiding light, shining brightly even in the darkest moments, offering hope and a vision of what’s possible. They see you as someone who has a rare kind of strength, a quiet resilience that inspires not just them but everyone around you. In their eyes, you are honest, clear, and sharp-minded. They would tell others that you have a way of seeing through confusion, cutting through doubt, and speaking truthfully, even when the truth is hard to face. There is a wisdom about you that they deeply admire, a sense of purpose and understanding that sets you apart. You aren’t afraid to stand by your beliefs, and that consistency brings a sense of calm and stability to their life. They see the depth of your heart, knowing that you carry your own struggles and pain, yet you still manage to move forward with grace. They would share how you’ve faced difficult moments, yet instead of letting them break you, you’ve allowed them to shape you into someone even stronger. To them, this makes you both beautiful and deeply human, someone who knows the weight of sorrow but still chooses to hope and love. Your future spouse would speak of you as a person who brings balance and meaning to their life. You make them see things in a clearer light, helping them understand themselves and the world around them in a way they never did before. You have a kind of gentle wisdom, mixed with an unyielding strength, that they feel honored to have by their side. In their words, you are not just a partner but a presence that brings hope, truth, and a sense of purpose. They would share that knowing you has been a journey, one that has taught them more about love, resilience, and the quiet power of enduring through life’s storms. To them, you are a reflection of both strength and tenderness, someone who stands tall in their truth and yet, remains deeply compassionate.
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Picture 3
Your future spouse will describe you as someone truly unique, a soul that carries a blend of lightness and depth. They'll tell their friends and family that you have a creative spirit, someone who sees beauty and possibility in the world around you. Your imagination knows no bounds, and it’s this quality that draws people to you, making them see the world through a new lens. They’ll speak of your transformative nature, how you have the power to change not only yourself but also the lives of those around you. When things seem stagnant or heavy, you bring a sense of renewal, a fresh perspective that breathes life into any situation. It’s as if you have the gift of turning difficult times into opportunities for growth, always finding a way forward. To them, you are not just a partner but a guiding light. They'll often mention how helpful you are, always ready to lend a hand or a kind word when someone needs it. They’ll describe you as someone who naturally nurtures and takes care of others, even when you sometimes forget to care for yourself. Your willingness to support and uplift those around you stands out to them, and they admire this selflessness deeply. At times, they might say that you have a tendency to neglect your own needs, getting so caught up in helping others that you forget to give yourself the same care. But it’s this very quality, this deep sense of empathy, that makes you so special to them. They will likely describe you as carefree, someone who doesn’t let life weigh them down too much, yet possesses a wisdom that runs deeper than what meets the eye. To them, you are more than just a lover; you are a soulmate, a friend, someone who understands them in ways others cannot. They will speak of how effortless it feels to be around you, how your presence brings them peace and comfort, as if you’ve known each other for lifetimes. And they will always smile when they mention how you bring a sense of joy and adventure to their life, a feeling of friendship that goes beyond the ordinary.
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yandere-daydreams · 10 months ago
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Title: Intoxicated.
Pairing: Yandere!Fae King x Reader (OC).
Word Count: 1.0k.
TW: Non/Con -> Dub/Con, AFAB!Reader, Aphrodisiacs/Sex Pollen, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Unhealthy Relationships, Orgasm Denial, and Obsessive Behavior.
[Commissioned piece. Donate to Palestinians in Gaza here.]
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His chambers reeked of honey and lavender.
A stark improvement when compared to the raw stench of sweating bodies and animal fervor that’d hung over the celebrations still raging on in his banquet hall, but strong thick enough to turn your stomach, still choking enough to leave your head spinning, your vision distorted and dark around the edges. A thick, lilac smoke clouded the air, courtesy of the herbs smoldering in jars of stained glass on a nearby windowsill – only adding to your current haziness. It went without saying that none of it, of course, was aided by the clever, slender fingers slowly drawing lazy circles into your clit, the stimulation too much to block out entirely but not nearly enough to bring you any real satisfaction. It was hard to be frustrated, though, when you considered who that stimulation was coming from.
Aisling had positioned himself behind you, propped against the ornate headboard of his almost comically oversized bed. Two long, hoofed legs stretched out on either side of you – flecks of golden pollen still dusted over his dark fur. His chest was bear and cool where it pressed into your back, and his unoccupied hand alternated between wrapping snuggly around your midriff and prying your thighs apart when they attempted in-vain to shut. His touch, like most other things about him, left much to be desired. You’d lost track of how long you’d spent here, how much time had passed since he carried you out of those wretched rituals his kind called revelries, but couldn’t have been any longer than a few minutes, even if it felt like a small eternity lapsed by every time you let your eyes droop shut. He prided himself on his adeptness in all things frivolous and pleasurable, and you couldn’t imagine him taking this long to bring you to climax.
“I’ve grown quite fond of your meekness, you know.” His voice was a deep rumble, less a string of words and more a prolonged, inflected purr. Cold lips ghosted over the curve of your ear, and his fingers found a new pattern; one with enough force behind to it make your head lull forward, a slight whimper slipping past your grit teeth as the loose knot in your core began to tighten. “At first, it was rather irking to realize I would never be able to make love to you under the light of the full moon to the accompaniment of my finest bards, but I think I’ve come to like how—” A quirk of his wrist, a strange crescent-like motion. You withered against him, your hips bucking stiltedly into his hand. “—reserved your kin tend to be. It feels more intimate, locking ourselves away like this. Like we share a common secret.”
That fucking smell. The sickening sweetness of it seemed to claw and tear at your lungs, to lodge itself in the hollows of your skull and send a warm, steady pulsing down the length of your spine with every slight movement of Aisling’s fingers. You let your eyes fall shut, your hands kneading at the silk of his sheets as the knot sitting in your core coiled ever-tighter, as you came so, so close to that—
As Aisling pulled away, his touch skirting over the inside of your thigh before forcing two fingers into the dripping entrance of your cunt. You couldn’t bite back the fractured whine that bubbled past your lips, arching your back as he spread and curled his digits inside of you. “Still,” he went on, sighing in mock-disappointment. “I feel like our relationship has been far from reciprocal, as of late. I do adore taking care of you, and I don’t mean to sound unthankful, but—” Another pause, another sigh. “I am beloved to all folks of the land and air, worshiped by the valleys and mountains alike, and dearest to all beings with the wisdom necessary to appreciate true beauty. Why is it that the one I cherish most so evidently detests my very existence?”
“Be—” A broken moan cut you off, draw out by a particular scissoring motion of his fingers. It was a fight to find your voice again. “Because you’re a fucking prick.”
“Your honeyed praises will have to wait, for now.” The heel of his palm ground into your clit, but the friction was too soft, too half-hearted to do anything. His lilac smoke seemed to claw its way down your throat and dislodge a pathetic string of whimpers and mewls, filling the new vacancy with a sort of… a sort of liquid heat, strong enough to leave you panting and hot enough to have you squirming against him, eager to get that much closer to his frigid body. Your desperation earned a melodic laugh from Aisling, a tender nuzzling of his cheek against yours. “Oh? Do you have something you’d like to ask for, little fawn?”
He forced a third finger into your terribly empty cunt, and something inside of you seemed to break open. “Please, Aisling, I—” You paused, gasped as his fingers curved against the clenching walls of your pussy. “I need to cum. I can’t take another—”
Whatever you might’ve said dissolved into a broken, pained moan as he drew back entirely, his slick-stained hand moving to your chin and tilting your head back, his lips finding your own before your shock could fade into hurt. Pointed, cat-like fangs burrowed into your bottom lip as his rough tongue laved over your own, the gesture less of a kiss and more of an attempt to permanently attach a part of him to a part of you. His taste was one of fresh fruit and sugared cream, and by the time he pulled away, you were panting, heaving, clambering to stay as close as him as you possibly could, to get as much from him as you possible could. Aisling only laughed as you rushed to straddle him, taking your face in both hands and pulling you into another long, lingering kiss – his mouth just as sweet as his poisons.
“Such a beautiful song,” he muttered, pulling back far enough to speak, but not leaving quite enough distance to disguise the crooked smile spread across his lips.
“Perhaps, by the time we’re finished, you’ll love me enough to deserve to.”
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miyukisu · 3 months ago
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I Might Bite .ᐟ
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❤︎ | Resorting to dirty measures like biting your superior during sparring usually doesn't end without you having a taste of your own medicine... (2.6k wc) ╰ feat. Hoshina Soshiro (Kn8) x afab! reader
kinktober entry no. 2 | kinktober masterlist
tags - subordinate! reader, biting, marking, spanking, pussy slaps, humiliation & punishment, Hoshina's kinda mean, fingering, p in v, creampies, swearing
minors do not interact
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The recent uptick of kaiju attacks over the city has every member of the JAKDF on edge. No one knows when the next attack is coming or if they'll live to see their next birthday. The atmosphere in the Tachikawa base specifically felt odd. Most were hopeless, but then there was you.
You weren't the strongest by any means, but you believed that if it came to being persistent—you'd be the best. It showed; after all, you trained your ass off even in your off hours.
There were times you bled and shed a tear, but you never stopped. Your fellow officers often told you to slow down. But there was one person who always watched from the sidelines—silently observing how you improved every night that you would sneak away into the training rooms.
It was none other than your superior, Hoshina Soshiro.
The vice captain didn't seem all too interested to be invested in the lives of the officers. Frankly, he had better things to do. But the rookie that worked themselves to the bone had successfully caught his eye. There was something about them that reminded him of himself. In many ways, he was drawn to that fiery spirit.
Not a lot of recruits had your determination and he was more than willing to foster that. What kind of vice captain would he be if he didn't help you in honing your skills?
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You stared, dumbfounded, at the fox eyed man in front of you.
"Ya heard me right the first time," he insisted.
You gulp down. "Well... I'm certainly not going to refuse your offer, sir. I was just making sure I understood what you said."
"I told ya—I'll help ya train every night. I meant it."
Finding out that your superior knew you have been violating the curfew had you expecting the worst. But Hoshina's reaction was rather unforeseen.
Instead of making you run laps or do cleaning duty—he offered to train with you during your night sessions. It made sense; training with someone better than you would allow you to improve at faster speeds. The choice was a no-brainer.
"Alright... thank you, sir."
Hoshina simply nodded before walking away from you, satisfied that you were cooperative with his ideas.
"Sir!"
He turns around with a small smile. "Yes?"
"When do we start?"
"Have ya skipped a day before?"
"...No, not really."
His smile widens. "Ya have yer answer then."
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Labored breaths filled the training room—though, most of it came from you. Hoshina barely broke a sweat throughout your entire sparring session. It wasn't shocking anymore at this point.
You estimate that it's already about two weeks since he has started joining you in your training. Not once have you won against him.
At first, it felt quite motivating—knowing that you had so much to improve. But as days go by, it becomes depressing how you can never even land a good hit on him.
You weren't fit to face a kaiju with how things stand and it crushed your once blazing spirits.
With your chest heaving and your vision blurring, you continued to anticipate his next move. You figured he'd at least cut you some slack after seeing the massive difference in skill, but he was merciless. You didn't even fight back as he tackled you to the ground.
Hoshina Soshiro wasn't just talented with a blade, but also with his bare hands. Who would have thought he knew grappling as well? He easily put you in a rear naked choke and you felt your airway quickly constrict.
He taught you that if you couldn't even handle basic hand-to-hand combat—then you'd be nothing doing anything else. Besides, before ending your session with the usual bare knuckled fighting, he trained you with swords and other weapons... in which you couldn't beat him in either.
Going up against him was futile. You absorbed his teachings like a sponge, but when it came to applying them—all hope is lost.
You were going to pass out soon; you could feel it.
Despite telling yourself that you'd always fight fair and square—you realized that this wasn't the time to be righteous. Virtues, principles—whatever the fuck it is—chucked out the window.
You bit down on his arm—hard. Did you draw blood? Perhaps. But that hardly mattered to you. He finally let go, failing to defeat you completely. Hoshina hissed, checking out the fresh wound you gave him.
Neither could you move or speak. In fact, you kept your back leaning on his chest. Doing anything other than breathing was a bit too much at the moment.
"Ya play dirty, don'cha?" he whispered darkly into your ear.
The thickness and intimidation laced in his voice was enough to reinvigorate your entire being. You took the deepest breath possible before peeling yourself off of him.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"Of course ya didn't mean ta do that, right?" he cuts you off, lifting you off of the ground with his impressive strength.
"What shall I ever do with ya? Li'l thing bitin' her superior."
You could only stutter out a pathetic apology as he carries you in his arms.
"Nah, don'cha apologize now. Ya must be sick of me treatin' ya like a ragdoll hm?"
He was right, of course. But you weren't about to admit that to him.
Hoshina carried you over to the side of the room where the long metal bench was. Even out of fighting, he continued to treat you like a doll with the way you effortlessly flipped you over. Your stomach pressed against his lap with one of his hands resting on your nape.
You weren't sure where his other hand was, but you soon found out... the hard way.
A sharp slap made its way to your ass. It had you sucking in more air than usual.
"Not even a single yelp huh? Think ya can handle more? Ya need to be punished after all."
Another slap and then another on the other cheek. Tears were starting to brim in your eyes. With the next slap, you finally yelped in pain. Hearing your sharp breaths, he caressed your poor behind in a soothing manner.
"Think ya've repented enough?"
God, you didn't want to sound weak, but a few sniffles escaped you. His question racked your brain, yet not a single good answer came for it. It was a trap and he was steadily luring you in.
You figured—silence was the best response. However, that pissed off the vice captain even more. Hoshina let out a long and deep sigh. He didn't want to do this; he swears. But you just had to push his buttons.
"Not speakin' huh? How many times will ya disrespect yer superior after I've been kind enough ta be trainin' ya every night?"
If you've learned one thing about him these past few sessions—it was that he never gave you time to react. Only now, you're discovering that it applies to things apart from fighting as well.
He slid you off his lap without warning. Soon as you flipped yourself over, the vice captain was already hovering over you with a stern expression on his face.
He inched closer, slowly but steadily. His eyes never left yours and it seemed to have you in a trance because you failed to realize how he had already caged you between his thick arms.
"Sir..." you managed to say between shaky breaths.
"So you can speak?"
Your eyes finally stray from his face, feeling flustered by the proximity.
"Ya should use that mouth of yers fer talkin' —not fer bitin' ," he said. He leaned in to the point that you felt the warmth of his breath against your neck. It was tantalizing—almost paralyzing. "I think ya should get a taste of yer own medicine," he added.
No time was given to protest as he sunk his sharp teeth into your neck. You gasp, hands finding purchase on his arms. He suckled on the tender skin, sure to leave a mark that you'd have to cover up in the morning.
Then another bite came. Your fingers dug into his flesh. It was painful, but oddly arousing. The intoxicating scent he radiated coupled with his fine looks were a recipe for disaster. But the only one being ruined was you.
Perhaps he felt satisfied after two bites, settling on wet kisses scattered on your neck instead. He kept getting lower and lower until he was met with a barrier.
"Lemme get this out of the way, a'ight?" he says before gripping the soft fabric of your black tanktop—ripping it apart. He smirked at the sight, a flimsy lacey bra.
He pushed it up before smashing his face down on your chest, sucking and lightly biting at a sensitive bud. Your hands went from his biceps to his hair, almost pulling out the strands from the roots.
He bit, tugged, and marked you all over again—like he was staking claim. Hoshina made sure to give attention to the other one as well, sucking on the swell of your breast while using his fingers to toy with the other.
Truth be told, he was too excited and immersed in devouring you that he only now became aware of your sounds. It was delightful to say the least. It made him smile as he nipped at the sensitive flesh.
You began to arch your back, needing more of him. But he took this as a sign to go even lower, planting more kisses that trailed down your stomach. He was giving you whiplash with the alternating softness and harshness of his touch.
He looked up at you and saw your dazed expression, unable to even look back at him. This was fine; this was the only time he'd permit a subordinate not looking him in the eye.
For once, you were able to catch your breath and make sense of it all. You returned your gaze to the man above you. He was hovering over you again, looking down with a feral glare. His large hand gripped your thigh.
"Ya know... fer someone bein' disciplined... ya sure look like yer enjoyin' this."
"I'm not," you retorted. But both of you knew the truth.
"Ya challengin' me? Let's see then, shall we?"
He made quick work of the zipper on your pants before pulling it down and throwing it off to God knows where. His eyes opened slightly, zeroing on the damp patch on your panties. Of course, he was right.
"Would ya look at that—yer pussy's all soaked from that. How naughty."
"I... I... um..."
He huffed. "Ya what?"
Slap. He had slapped your pussy. The stinging sensation had you arching your back off of the cold metallic surface of the bench. A soft groan fell from your lips.
He landed another slap. "Look at how wet ya are right now. Ya shouldn't have lied huh?"
As if to soothe you again, he began rubbing his thumb over your poor cunt. "Didn't mean ta make her cry."
Hoshina smirked at his own joke—because who else would appreciate it? Definitely not you; you were too fucked out to even catch everything that he's saying.
He hooked a finger in the gusset before pulling your panties out of the way. The sight of your dripping cunt made his dick twitch. He had already been especially frustrated this week and the cute little subordinate he trained every night wasn't helping. Her little stunt was essentially the final nail in the coffin.
There was nothing else he wanted more but to fuck you senseless already. But he was a refined man; he had patience.
Hoshina pushed in two digits at first and it almost made him shudder with how tight and warm you were. Patience be damned; he was crumbling all too quickly for his liking.
"Fuck... yer suckin' it in."
A string of soft moans left you. It was music to his ears and he wanted it to be louder.
He began fucking his fingers into you at a faster pace. The muscles of his arm tensed and the veins on his forearm were popping out. A loud and vulgar moan reverberated through the training room. You could only hope that everyone in the base was asleep because there was no way you could be quiet with what he's doing to you.
You tightened around his fingers before unravelling completely. Your pussy fluttered, cumming on to his fingers shamelessly. It almost felt like a task to him—only getting it out of the way to get to the main event.
Hoshina pulled out his fingers, sucking them clean. He would have loved to get a taste of it on his tongue, but all restraint had been lost. He had to sheath himself in you or else he'd actually lose it.
"Take a deep breath for me, a'ight?" he says while unzipping his pants, only barely pulling out his leaking cock from its confines.
Maybe you should have listened because the sudden intrusion of his cock knocked the air out of your lungs. It filled you up nicely, hitting every spot with just one fluid motion.
He groans, throwing his head back in ecstasy. His fingers were practically white with how hard he gripped the bench supporting the both of you.
"Coulda fought me with this instead. Maybe ya coulda won," he teased. He began slowly fucking into you, perhaps a reprieve after his previous actions.
Your hands held on to his back, softly digging your nails into the chiseled flesh. A satisfied groan poured from his smiling lips.
The string of moans coming from you urged him to go faster. He had enough of being slow and soft. He snapped his hips at a maddening pace almost immediately. Your leg fell of the bench, hanging off and allowing him deeper access into you.
He never faltered for a second—even as he leaned down to leave marks on your neck again. You held him closer to you as if you never wanted him to leave... and he wasn't; at least, not until you've cum all over his cock.
His ragged breaths filled your ear as he continued to rut into you. Hoshina was tough, ruthless, and precise—much like on the battlefield.
A familiar clench squeezed his dick. "Ya close? Ya gonna cum on my cock? C'mon, do it," he goaded.
His thumb began circling your swollen clit. After holding on to the cold bench for a while, his touch felt freezing. The warmth you felt inside contrasted with the cold touch of his thumb. The sensation was almost numbing with how good it felt.
"Wanna cum with me? How romantic of ya," he teased again. "Fuck... I'm cummin' —take it all. This is still part of yer punishment. Got that?"
You responded with a breathless moan. That was all it took before hot ropes of cum filled you. The warmth seemed to push you over the edge as well, milking him for all he's worth. And like he said—it would be romantic. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.
"Ya learned yer lesson yet?" he asked, but not before capturing your wet lips in a kiss.
Hoshina let a shaky breath out as he pulled away. He knew it would be good, but he wasn't expecting for it to be this good.
"Shit... was only plannin' one round. Guess it wouldn't hurt ta discipline ya more."
He lazily rubbed his still hard cock. "C'mon, get on all fours fer me and I might not make ya run laps in morning's training." He watched intently as you followed, lining up his dick against your entrance. It was going to be a long night.
"Good fuckin' girl."
©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms
╰ author's note slightly longer I guess because I like Hoshina more lol
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cheriladycl01 · 3 months ago
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Kinktober 03/10/2024 Daniel Ricciardo- Hate Sex
Plot: You and Daniel get into a massive argument when he comes home after a race in a pissy mood for the 3rd time in a row.
Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, eating out, oral (f-receiving), arguments between reader and Daniel, hate sex etc 18+ Minors DNI
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The first time, it was a DNF where he’d collided on track in a fight for 3rd place with Perez. He’d come home, ignored you and the meal you’d cooked for him, got changed and went straight back out. You guys didn’t talk until the next morning, where things were a little tense until he cracked a joke and all was forgiven.
After that race you came with him and it was one of his best races, he was so happy and cheerful celebrating with you and all his friends at a points finish and with the podium sitters of the day. It was very fun.
The second time, it was the team giving him wrong orders and ending up with a cooling issue on the car that set him all the way back in 18th place. This time he didn’t even bother coming home and went out with Lando and Max for a week before coming back and acting like everything was okay. Of course you were a little hurt, but decided against bringing it up to him as you guys were okay!
The third time and it was a rookie mistake on his part, he went into a corner car to quick and didn’t break quick enough meaning his car was in the wall and his race was over.
He come home instantly this time, getting into Max’s jet with him on the Sunday straight after the race and ending up home at a decent hour.
He came stomping in through the door, his suitcase hauled through and left in the entrance way as he started to walk straight past you. You step in his way managing to stop him now that he was in your line of vision.
“Mmmmm yeah no way, not happening” you say to him crossing your arms.
“Please get out of my way” he says looking over you with an unimpressed look as to why you were actively stoping him from getting to your guys room.
“No Daniel, I’m sick of this! Everytime you have a shit race for whatever reason you become … I dunno Elsa or some shit. I’m sick of you running out on me when you can’t man up and fucking talk to me about this and think it’s better to run away, making me feel like ass and then come back the next day and act like nothing is wrong. It’s exhausting and I’m not doing this again. So we’re talking right here right now” you say pointing to the floor with your hands that had helped you embellish your points as you were speaking.
“That’s what you think this all is?” He asks his head cocking to the side, frustration still evident on his face but with who or what you are none the wiser.
“Well it’s fucking clear it is. When I have a bad day at work, you’re quite literally the first and only person I want to interact with. I get being angry but I can’t keep going on like this if you keep having bad races!” You explain trying to remain calm.
“Are you saying I’m not going to improve? Maybe this is why I don’t come to you, because you could never ever understand something as complex as Formula One and how much pressure there is from the team and other drivers. You could never understand what I deal with every day” he shouts at you an angry look in his face.
“You know what, maybe I don’t. But I won’t because you never seem to talk to me anymore. It’s so frustrating Daniel because I’m trying to be there for you but you won’t let me!” You shouts back, tears starting to roll down your cheeks.
“Maybe I don’t want you too! Maybe I’m so sick of your constant nagging and preening seeing if I’m okay and shit and maybe just maybe I don’t want that” he says, his face like thunder. Your eyes are so wet that you actually cannot see the instant look of regret on his face as he says that.
To you that was like he’d basically just said he no longer loved you. Daniel was the centre of your world and it revolved around him, Daniel was your everything and for him not to appreciate all you do for him and reciprocate those feeling was hurtful.
“I hate you so much right now” you cry turning away and running up the stairs to your shared bedroom. Daniel follows storming after you, he pushes you against the wall, anger evident on his face.
“Don’t walk away from me, and don’t fucking say that” he says almost glaring at you.
“Well, I wouldn’t lie to you. You’ve exhausted me these last few weeks and I cannot do it anymore” you cry looking at him with a frown, your brows furrowing in disgust.
You both just stare at each other for a little until Daniel leans forward and kisses you roughly. You are shocked for a second trying to push him away but his arms encase you against the wall, leaving you nowhere to go.
You guys eventually go into an intense make out session. Daniels tongue exploiting every cavern of your mouth while all you can do is lean your head against the wall and let him.
As much as you were irritated with him right now, and hated how he was acting, you couldn’t deny that you’d missed his close contact and the intimacy.
“I still hate you” you say looking at him with a fierce look in his eyes, almost like a challenge to see just how far he would go. And without a word he lifts you up chucking you into the bed. He crawls up to you, spreading your legs open, pulling your shorts and panties down in one and he leans down to kiss and bite your inner thighs.
A hand comes across to cover your mouth, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how good he was making you feel just from light contact on your inner thighs.
The minute he started to lick strips up your slit you were done for, his large nose bumping your clit making you squirm and a breathy gasp leaving your lips.
“You still hate me gorgeous? Because you don’t sound like you do?” He smirks diving back in and eating you out like a 5 course meal in a 3 star Michelin restaurant.
“Danny” you cry and he just laughs into your creating more incredible vibrations.
“Still hate me? I dare you to say it” he asks and there was still a petty part of you that was so upset be annoyed with him that you couldn’t even understand your own emotions right now?
Was it hate?
“Yes I do” you answered, but Daniel could here the confusion in your voice.
“Maybe I just need to fuck the hate out of you huh?” He asks coming up from your clit, his fingers dipping in making your gasp and grab his wrist making eye contact as he come up to kiss you on the lips, making you able to taste yourself in his lips.
“How does that sound? Letting me take all my frustrations out on you” he says as he speeds up his fingers inside you. He takes them out, licking them clean before pulling his own jeans and boxers down letting his dick spring free.
“Or how about I take MY frustrations out on you” you say flipping his round and straddling him. Holding him down by his shoulders.
He just smirks up at you, hands going behind his head as he relaxes with your weight on top of him.
“Gone if then baby girl. Do your worst” he says and before he can say anymore your mounting him, slipping down onto him bouncing up and down. Your hands find their way to his hair as you grip his curls and his find their way to your exposed boobs, letting them fill his hands as he starts to tweak and play with your peaked nipples.
“Fuck Dan, why’d you have to ignore me” you all but moan as you speed up and Daniel starts to thrust up to meet your bounces.
“I didn’t wanna fucking hurt you, I knew I’d say something nasty to you coz I was hacked off” he gasps out as he grips your hips, helping you bounce.
“You’re so stupid” you cry, out looking at him as you clench round him and fall into him having no more energy. Daniels thrusts become sloppy and he eventually slows down, with one big thrust before emptying himself inside you.
“Still hate me?” He smiles as he pulls you into him for a hug, his breathing ragged as he looks down at you.
“Always” you smile, pulling him into a sweet kiss.
“Damn, we need to have more sex when your angry” he sighs, wiping the sweat away from his forehead.
“No way had my sexiness bested a high performance athlete” you laugh, looking over at him. And he can’t help but laugh too.
“Mmmmm of course you have” he answers.
“But next time, you talk to me okay? I swear I’m not doing this again Daniel” you say seriously and he rolls his eyes with a small pout.
“But your so hot and sexy when you hate me” he pouts making you shake your head laughing before lightly slapping his shoulder.
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reality-detective · 3 months ago
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Aloe is a real salvation for those who suffer from vision problems. We share a recipe for a wonderful remedy with aloe juice.
This remedy is a real vitamin bomb for the eyes! It can be successfully used to treat cataracts, eye pain, as well as inflammation of the eyelids.
How to get your eyesight back?
INGREDIENTS: 👇
100 g of aloe juice
500 g chopped walnuts
300 g honey
3-4 lemons
PREPARATION: 👇
Squeeze the juice from the lemons.
Then grind all the ingredients in a blender until a homogeneous porridge is formed.
The mixture should be taken internally 1 tablespoon 3 times a day half an hour before meals. Take the medicine should be taken for 3 months. After 30 days you will notice that your eyesight has improved! The remedy should be stored in the refrigerator for 10 days. 🤔
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