#How to improve your eye vision?

[srghospital1]

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.

[wellness-4-life]

The Importance of Eye Health: Tips for Maintaining Good Vision

The Importance of Eye Health: Tips for Maintaining Good Vision

Your eyes are one of your most valuable assets, helping you experience the world around you. But it’s easy to take them for granted—until something goes wrong. Understanding the importance of eye health is the first step in keeping your vision clear and sharp for life. Let’s explore some eye health tips and easy habits to support your eyes every day.

Why Eye Health Matters More Than You Think

Good vision is essential for day-to-day life, whether it’s working on a screen, driving, or reading a book. Ignoring eye care can lead to long-term issues like glaucoma, cataracts, and eye strain. That’s why understanding the importance of eye health and taking care of your vision now can save you a lot of trouble later.

Tips for Good Vision: Habits that Keep Your Eyes Healthy

Keeping your eyes healthy doesn’t have to be complicated. Here are some tips for good vision that can easily fit into your routine:

Limit Screen Time: Too much time on your phone or computer can strain your eyes. Try the 20-20-20 rule: every 20 minutes, look at something 20 feet away for 20 seconds.

Stick to Regular Eye Exams: Even if your vision feels fine, regular eye exams can catch problems early. An eye doctor can spot issues like glaucoma before they become serious.

Follow a Simple Eye Care Routine: Wash your face regularly, use lubricating drops if your eyes feel dry, and wear sunglasses to protect against UV rays.

How to Improve Vision Naturally

While it’s natural for eyesight to change as you age, healthy habits can slow down the process. Here’s how to improve vision and keep your eyes in top shape:

Exercise Regularly and Manage Health Conditions  Conditions like diabetes or high blood pressure can affect your eyesight, so staying active and managing these issues is crucial for long-term eye health.

Wear Protective Eyewear  Whether you're playing sports or working in a dusty environment, wearing protective glasses helps avoid eye injuries that could impact your vision.

Omega-3 for Eye Health  Omega-3 fatty acids help reduce dry eyes and support retinal health. Including fish like salmon or taking omega-3 for eye health through supplements can make a noticeable difference.

Foods for Eye Health: Eat Your Way to Better Vision

What you eat can directly impact your eyesight. Some foods for eye health include:

Leafy Greens: Spinach, kale, and broccoli are packed with antioxidants that protect your eyes from blue light and reduce the risk of age-related vision loss.

Fatty Fish: Fish like salmon and tuna are rich in omega-3 for eye health, which helps prevent dry eyes and keeps your retina healthy.

Citrus Fruits: Oranges, lemons, and other citrus fruits are loaded with vitamin C, which supports eye function and reduces the risk of cataracts.

Should You Use Eye Health Supplements?

If you’re not getting all the nutrients you need from food alone, eye health supplements can help. Look for ones that contain omega-3 fatty acids, lutein, zeaxanthin, and vitamins A, C, and E.

Omega-3 for Eye Health: Helps relieve dry eyes and inflammation.

Lutein and Zeaxanthin: These antioxidants protect your eyes from blue light damage.

Zinc: Supports night vision and prevents age-related eye conditions.

Talk to your doctor before starting any eye health supplements to make sure they fit your needs.

Why Regular Eye Exams Are Essential

A lot of eye problems don’t show symptoms right away. That’s why regular eye exams are so important. Adults should get their eyes checked every one to two years, and kids need annual exams to catch any vision issues early.

Create an Easy Eye Care Routine

A little care goes a long way. Here are some ways to build a simple but effective eye care routine:

Keep Your Eyes Hydrated: Use artificial tears if your eyes feel dry, especially after long hours on the computer.

Wear Sunglasses Outdoors: Protect your eyes from harmful UV rays by wearing sunglasses with proper UV protection.

Get Enough Sleep: Your eyes need rest too! A good night’s sleep helps prevent eye strain and dryness.

Final Thoughts: Protect Your Vision for Life

Taking care of your eyes doesn’t have to be complicated. By following these eye health tips, getting regular eye exams, and including eye health supplements if needed, you can protect your vision for the long haul. Make sure to eat plenty of foods for eye health like leafy greens and fish rich in omega-3 for eye care, and adopt a solid eye care routine to stay on track.

Your eyes are worth the effort—so start small, stay consistent, and enjoy the benefits of good vision for years to come!

[lylahammar]

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!

[rileyslibrary]

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!

———————————————————————

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.”

———————————————————————

[69yard]

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…

[hermaeusmorax]

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*

"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.

"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?"

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Please...

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary- “Please,” she once again begs, “ I want you not him. Make me yours, please.” Wanda removes her head from your shoulder to look at your eyes with a new look of desire and lust. She somehow moves her lips closer to yours without them touching, knowing that if they touched, neither of you would be able to stop.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI, Implied/reference cheating, Fluff and Smut, Strap ons, Rough sex, Dom/sub undertones, Multiple orgasms, Fingering

This is an old fic I found from my ao3 so the writing quality isn't that good, apologies but I don't have the time to improve it.

General Master List

W/c- 1.5k

“We need to stop,” Wanda quietly whispered as her lips ghosted yours. You currently had her pinned to the wall, a knee between her legs, yours mouths millimetres apart as you panted against each other. “Vision is going to propose to me,” she painfully said while closing her eyes to avoid the look on your face.

“That didn’t stop you from proposing that I fuck you last night,” you murmur at the shell of her ear, hearing her breath hitch at your words. “Especially in the bed you share with him. The father of your children, the man who doesn’t deserve, never deserved you.”

“Please…” she whimpers placing her head on your shoulder as she still remain trapped between you and the wall.

“Please what?” you softly say, “Leave? Tell me to go and I’ll go. You know I’d never hurt you.”

“Please,” she once again begs, “ I want you not him. Make me yours, please.” Wanda removes her head from your shoulder to look at your eyes with a new look of desire and lust. She somehow moves her lips closer to yours without them touching knowing that if they touched, neither of you would be able to stop.

“Are you sure?” you faintly say while staring into those green eyes you could get lost in. “There’s no going back,” you warn as there’s a lot she’s giving up or changing for you. She answers your question by crashing her lips to yours like she’s been starved of this intimacy for years. A low groan escapes your lips as her hands wrap around the back of your neck to keep you in place. Your hands find her hips and press her more into the wall making her moan. Suddenly you lift her up and hold her against the wall as her legs wrap around your waist, the friction against her clothed core making her break away from the kiss with a gasp. Threading her hands into your hair as you pepper kisses along her jaw and neck, you push off the wall with one hand and move around your apartment. You stumble through the living room while stubbing your toe making her chuckle against your skin and eventually make it towards your bedroom. Well your bedroom door.

“Fuck,” she gasps out as you push her against the door and practically rip her shirt off her body. Her hands fumble for the end of your shirt and eventually pulls it over your head. “Bedroom. Now,” she rasps out between heated kisses making you fumble with the door handle. Quickly, the door swings open making you almost fall into the room but you keep steady with the help of her magic. You move towards the bed and gently place her on there before swiftly climbing on top of her and crashing your lips to hers once again.

“Tell me what you want,” you mutter along the skin of her neck as you make your way down to her bra covered chest. You nip at the top of her breasts making her back arch giving you the perfect opportunity to unclasp her bra before throwing it somewhere in your room.

“Fuck me please,” she whimpers out while her nails scratch down your back making you groan around one of her nipples. You gaze upwards to see her eyes closed in pleasure as you continue to suck and lick at her sensitive flesh.

“You have to be more specific love,” you taunt out while letting go of a breast with a loud pop. A quiet whine leaves her lips at your words as you know she gets embarrassed asking you for things but you also know how wet it makes her. “Come on love, use your words.”

“Please fuck me with your fingers, mouth, cock! Just fuck me please!” She whimpers beneath you and you move back up her body to kiss her with this new sense of desire. You pull back slightly to pant against her lips while looking up to see her green eyes blown with lust and want causing a smirk to appear on your face.

“I’m going to ruin you for anyone else,” you purr out while moving back down her body, leaving marks now as you don’t care if Vision sees them. “No one will be able to fuck you as good as me,” you murmur at the waist band of her jeans. In one quick motion, you pull down her jeans and underwear in one go leaving her bare beneath you and to gasp as the cold air connecting with her exposed core.

“Holy shit,” Wanda moans out as the feeling of your hot breath causing a wave of arousal to wash over her. You don’t waste anytime teasing her as you both just want each other. You attach your lips to her clit making her moan loudly and run a finger up and down her folds, gathering her wetness. Before sliding your finger in you pull away from her soaking cunt and look at her directly in the eyes while sucking her juices off your finger, moaning at the taste of her.

“You taste delicious my love,” you mumble out before returning to her clit and sliding a finger into her dripping core. A low groan leaves her lips as you slowly thrust your finger in and out of her before adding another one. You can feel her walls slightly stretch around them and decide to add another one making her back arch once again. You pick up the pace of pumping your fingers in and out of her causing her to whimper at the feeling while also moaning into her, the vibrations sending a different pleasurable feeling through her.

“Please, I’m so close,” she begs, her accent thick and sultry. You smirk into her core before sucking and licking harder at her clit while curling your fingers at her g-spot making her instantly cry out. You feel her legs shaking besides your head before moving to wrap around your back and neck, holding you in place as she crashes head first into an orgasm. Her whole body tenses and she lets out a string of moan before going limp in your hold as she recovers from her first orgasm.

“Good girl,” you praise while gently pressing your lips to hers, a whine escaping her at the taste of herself. The kiss remains gentle until her hips start grinding up into yours making you groan at the contact. You pull away abruptly to strip yourself of your clothes and you quickly grab the strap on from your bedside table. “Do you still want this?” you mutter against her lips while bracing yourself on one arm above her.

“Yes, please just fuck me,” her tone desperate as you pull on the toy as quick as you can. Her nails return to you back leaving red marks as you slowly press the toy into her. As soon as she’s adjusted to the size, you start to thrust your hips into her and lean down to take a nipple back into your mouth. You switch breasts before pulling back to sit on your knees, moving her legs to go over your shoulders making her scream out in pleasure. “Fuck right there please!” she groans out as you snap your hips into her repeatedly, the force of your thrusts making the whole bed shake. With how brutal you are fucking her, it doesn’t take long for Wanda to once again come but this time you don’t let her ride out her high before pushing her over the edge once again.

“How pathetic must he be if a piece of plastic can please you better?” you tease out while slowing your thrusts down so she can catch her breath. “And I didn’t even need to touch your clit,” you mutter while kissing along her chest and moving upwards to meet her lips. “You did so well for me my love,” you whisper while kissing her forehead, still buried deep inside her. “Can you do one more?” You feel her nod against you but you remind her to use her words.

“Yes,” she breathlessly says and that’s all you need to flip the two of you over. A sinful moan leaves her lips as she straddles your waist, the toy never leaving her cunt as you switched positions. Slowly, you guide her hips on your lap as you move to sit up so you can kiss her once again.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” you praise her again and again as you notice how her face flushes even more at the praise. Gently, you move your hand to circle her sensitive clit and help her reach her final orgasm of the night. You muffle the moans that escape her before carefully rolling her onto her back and pulling out of her. Swiftly, you go to the bathroom to grab a wash cloth and help her with aftercare before joining her in the bed.

“I love you,” she sleepily murmurs while nuzzling her face in your neck, arms wrapped around your body, legs tangled under the sheets.

“I love you too,” you whisper back before drifting off to sleep, holding her as close as possible.

[lcvemiyuki]

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.

[saeun]

megumi fushiguro x reader 𓂃 drabble.

+ love, ‘su: what happens when your friend's brother is your type? flirting! not beta read mb

“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.

[willyoubemycherryy]

𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃’𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌. (𝐹.𝒯𝒾𝑔𝑒𝓁𝒶𝒶𝓇)

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

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

•. ° ⋆✴︎ ˚｡⋆

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.

[2crtz]

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ THE FALL INTO HIS HEART .

WARNINGS: light nsfw thoughts, brushing of the hand (wink), arranged marriage, haters to slightly friendly strangers. this is mainly fluff. CHARACTERS: capitano x f!readers SYNOPSIS: the tsaritsa ordered capitano to take your hand in marriage despite his better judgement. one day in the garden ignited a new version of you, and capitano found himself at the window, watching you look serene under the sunlight.  WORD COUNT: 1.439 A/N: this is my first post on this account and hope i don't disappoint. i love capitano and i want to write more of him (…and other genshin men). part two is out!

Capitano never agreed to an arranged marriage, however, whatever the Tsaritsa orders him, he obliges without protest. 

His first glance into your eyes ignited flames within his veins. If a look could kill, you would have fallen dead at his feet. You never agreed to this predicament, but you could not refuse your parents' wishes no matter how you deny.

The wedding was not one to write down. For the guests, yes, it was a magical day, but when it was time to finally retire in your new home, there was a cold, distant silence between you and your new husband. 

Since meeting Capitano, not a word had been said between the two of you. A foreboding feeling captured your senses, worried about if you had to preform that night, but Capitano did not make the impression he was interested in consummating the marriage.

He ended the night by not sharing another gaze and left to his separate chambers.  

You could finally breathe freely for the first time that day.

────

A month has passed of being married and there has been no improvement in your relationship. Most days are silent, while others, only a few words were spoken.

When Capitano does speak, a trace of malice taints his tone, you found yourself scared. 

Hearing his footsteps approach you made your blood run cold, the armor clanking causing you to flinch, and his low, stoic tone has you frozen in place. He has never given you a reason to hate him, but he shows himself as a person who shouldn't be trifled with.

The tales you've heard about the Harbinger could stir fear in anyone who have dared their ears to know the horrors he's caused. 

This marriage was a forced one, and one you wished was a nightmare you longed to free yourself from. 

Maybe, one day, you will wake up.

────

Capitano's office sat in the far end of the manor, away from your chambers. In there placed a grand window overlooking the green, lush gardens where he could look out at when the orders of the Tsaritsa are irritating.

Today was one of those days.

The towering man stood before the window, his gaze sweeping over the vibrant blooms and the sunlit waters shimmering like liquid gold. Yet today, the scene held a view, poised within the landscape of his vision, an unfamiliar change in the shades of green, one that belonged to you.

Stood there, in the purest shades of white, a gown that fitted loosely on your frame, looking breathtakingly serene.

Unaware of his eyes, standing there with not a care in the world, not knowing anyone is watching, you were unapologetically being you.

Capitano's head screamed to look away, to leave you be, but his eyes betrayed him. They were glued onto the image. It's like a reenactment of a live painting in front of him.

You were like a jewel, unearthed from beneath the surface that sparkled from the hitting sun for the first time. A sight he thought he could never experience in his lifetime. 

Watching you was a sight that Capitano continued to watch even after telling himself that he should stop, but he needed it. It was like a shot of heroin. He craved for you, watching you, seeing you in a light he never thought he would.

It's been weeks and he had yet to stop, and didn't plan to. Even if he didn't mutter a word to you for weeks, the silence was overshadowed by this new habit. A new secret was curated within weeks.

A secret of watching his wife.

He had never set foot onto the garden-- until now.

As he watched your movements, he noticed an odd limp in your steps. Making a mental note of it, he heard a thump followed by a wail. 

His spine straightened.

You were nowhere in sight.

Capitano's eyes moved rapidly across the garden to find you, his pulse quickening by the second, but he couldn't. He stepped out of his office and walked purposefully towards the garden.

His movements were sharp, yet his thoughts raced despite his better judgement. Capitano swiftly moved through the hedges, his sword cutting through the thick bushes. The ground beneath his feet was soft, littered with stones that could cause a limp from walking of them barefoot. It could be easy to trip over one, and once realizing that, Capitano's search became more frantic.

He first heard a soft whine followed by feet coming into view. 

"Gods--" He muttered as he came by your side, inspecting your condition.

"I think--" You swallowed between words from the pain shooting from your foot. "my ankle."

Capitano's eyes lowered to your swollen ankle, his brows furrowing with concern. Slowly, he bent down onto his knees beside you, his hand gently grabbed your foot.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly light. There was no hatred or spite, only a voice that you could relax in. It was unfamiliar, but comforting.

The touch was soft, and his demeanor grew tender. It was the first time you saw this side of him he tried to conceal. Even through your teary eyes and blurred vision, you saw the part of him he tried to keep hidden.

Your ankle was swollen and most likely sprained. Even from his light touch, you winced from the pain.

"I-I'm fine, I swear." you murmured, trying to not burden him more than you've already have, but he quickly dismissed it.

Capitano looped his arm under your knees and gathered you in his arms with ease.

"My wife is injured, and as your husband, it is my duty to be by your side. In sickness and in health."

The way he said it was like he was just repeating the vows he made, but to you, it was reassurance. This was his way of telling you that no matter the hardships or trials in your marriage, he remains by your side.

"Thank you." you whispered.

He only nodded and carried you off to your chambers.

────

Your husband carefully wrapped your ankle and elevated it to ease the swelling.

"You are not allowed to move from this bed unless told to. Should you need assistance, ring this bell and I will come." He held up the brass bell before placing it on your bedside table, softly clinking as it settled into place.

As he turned to exit your room, you quickly grabbed the bell and rang it.

Almost instantly, Capitano turned around.

"My dress is stained with dirt." your tone was low and quiet, laced with embarrassment that you were not capable of walking over to your dresser to collect fresh new clothes.

Understanding your unspoken request, Capitano walked towards your drawers and opened each one to find your nightgowns.

"Second to last drawer." Seeing him rummage through the articles of clothing was slightly humorous to you, it tugged the corner of your lips.

Following your instructions, he finally found a gown he liked and walked to you. "Will this do?" he asked, tone still low and even.

You nodded, reaching out to grab it, your fingers brushing his.

"Do you require any assistance with clothing yourself?" Even though it was an innocent question, your face began to heat up. Unbeknownst to Capitano, you didn't wear any undergarments beneath a nightgown.

If he pulled your dress up slightly, you would become vulnerable. From that thought alone, of your husband seeing you nude, caused your nipples to harden.

Capitano's gaze lowered slightly to see harden peaks appear through the thin fabric. Thankfully, his helmet hid his eyes.

"No," You quickly shielded your chest. "I can manage."

Like clockwork, Capitano nodded and exited your chambers without sparing another word.

As Capitano entered his office, he could finally breathe properly. After the scene he had witnessed, it became difficult for him to get air in his lungs.

Your breasts were on the forefront of his mind. The stiffened nubs were begging for his touch, taunting him that it'll be something he could only do in his wildest dreams.

The frustration ate him alive. If he could, he would go back into your room and show you what more he can do for you.

Hot and moist air filling the room, slapping noises, your moaning and pleads hitting his ears, he would do anything to sink himself deep inside your folds.

With those thoughts flooding his mind, he felt ashamed that he was taking advantage of you in his head. It was an absurd fantasy that he knows will never happen.

Only in his dreams.

do not modify, edit, or republish.

[hexhomos]

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.

[claramelooo]

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

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

[theshiftingwitch]

Get over your bullshit

It's a new year, and most —if not all— of you have already made your lists and vision boards and scripts and decided that 2025 is YOUR year.

You are finally going to have it all.

You are going to see all of your dreams come true right before your eyes.

But how long will it take before you start wavering again? How long will this resolve dissolve into thin air? How long will it take before you go back to letting the 3D tell you how to live?

Let's face it, the 3D is not your enemy.

The only thing standing in your way is YOU.

EVERYTHING you see around you is a direct result of your assumptions. Every thought, every action, every move, every step is ruled by your assumptions, your programming.

You don't know how deep it can go. You might think that that obscure incident from your childhood didn't affect you at all, the whole time it created a limiting belief that is making your subconscious mind its own personal bitch.

And it will continue to do so because you refuse to do the work.

You refuse to get out of your own way! You are firmly rooted into that godforsaken comfort zone that you stubbornly refuse to make the simplest of efforts to change your life.

You throw a temper tantrum every time things don't go your way, cursing the universe for not giving you your desires and screaming into the abyss about how the law is fake and manifestation doesn't work and blah blah fucking blah.

Give it a rest.

No one is going to give you your manifestations. There is no higher power up there withholding your desires from you because they're petty and chaotic. There is no divine timing or lessons to be learned or a specific transit that needs to hit your 5th house before you get what you want.

You're the one withholding your own desires from yourself because you can't get yourself to make even the smallest of efforts and control your thoughts!

Seriously, would it kill you to think in your favor?

Is it so hard to believe in yourself?

Everything you think is not working out for you is simply your own bullshit excuses.

Some people are out here saturating their minds for hours, saying 10k affirmations, visualizing every night, dismantling their limiting beliefs and doing their shadow work to get what they want. And they always get what they want! Without a fail.

Yes, manifesting is instant. But you've been programed to believe it's hocus pocus your entire life. You found the law days or months or years ago, and that's spec of dust compared to the time you've been on this Earth, saturating your subconscious mind with limiting crap that did nothing but take away your own power.

Stop making excuses. Stop justifying why you're giving up or why you can't manifest or saturate or decide. Stop explaining why your self concept is shit and start improving it instead.

At the end of the day, you are the one giving YOU your desires. And it can take a few days, or it can take a decade.

You decide.

Everything is a result of your decisions.

PS: this is not a tough love post as I don't believe love is tough or cruel or mean. You can do whatever you want. This is not disregarding mental illness either, it is a clear disadvantage, but it's not an insurmountable block. You can and will manifest despite mental illness, you just have to persist.

Happy manifesting ❤️

[pumpkinbxtch]

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.

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."

[the-kr8tor]

For you Ekko reqs, may I suggest R and Ekko hurt/comfort where Ekko slowly confides with R about what happened at the end of show (like probably a year or 2 of Ekko trying to process everything) and how he sometimes wished he stayed at the alt timeline? 🥲 Just him processing his grief of everything while R comforts him. Mans deserves better

-😅

Ahhhhh writing this made me tear up ngl 🥲 I hope you like it! ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, can be read as platonic, cw violence mention, cw injury mention, cw blood and death mention, hurt/comfort.

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ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

“Ekko?” Your call is carried by the cool autumn wind, breeze fluttering your lashes as you stare at his back. You see him shrink in his seat, face hidden on the crook of his elbow. Walking closer, footsteps clanging against the metal balcony where you always find him on the same day it all happened. “You'll catch a cold up here.”

Piltover shines in front of you, warm light flickering off by the windows as people settle in for the night. But the glimmering fire paper still flies above the city, its light fading as it burns out in the breeze. It's the anniversary of that day, the day Piltover and Zaun saw war right on their doorstep.

Your arm aches, a phantom pain ebbing in and out when your mind goes back to that exact day where the sky was covered in searing smoke, and the streets splashed in warm crimson. Thumb brushing along your scar, it's a mark, a reminder of what was lost that day.

After a minute, Ekko sighs, still unmoving on his spot. “I'm not leaving.”

“I'm not trying to make you leave.” You fetch the blanket that was folded and draped over your shoulder. “I have a blanket for you. If you want it.”

He turns his head slowly over to you, mind playing tricks on him as he sees the flash of you bleeding and yelling for him. Eyes bloodshot, skin clammy and marred with blood. As fast as it came, he blinked and it's gone. Vision returning to the present, the present that wouldn't be possible if not for his sacrifice.

“Don't just gawk at me, bossman,” you smile gently at him, the blanket now unfurled in front of you, ready to drape it over his trembling form. “Do you want it or not?”

The corner of his lip curls up in a small smile, his eyes are tired, weighed down by the world. “Come sit down?”

He has never asked you to join him. You always left him alone up here whenever the anniversary comes around, thinking that's what he needed. But you always waited patiently just outside the door, sitting down on the cold steps while you let grief wash over you like the tides. Until it's time to pick yourself up again at the sound of the door opening. His hand helping you up wordlessly, grief holding the two of you in place, mourning together silently. When morning comes, everything seems to go back in place. The sun still shines, the world still breathes. But it lingers, that grief that has etched itself in your bones, sorrow that lives in his chest, weighing him down but never letting it fester and spread.

You two continue to fight, to improve the very place where blood has been spilled. Carry their memories, their names and their voices until the end. Lest their sacrifices would be in vain. Ekko's sacrifice would be in vain. He deserves better, to not bear the heaviness left in his soul.

“Are you just gonna gawk there or will you take a seat?” He uses your own words against you.

“Can't help it,” you say, heart pounding in your chest as you take a seat right next to him. Giving him enough space, but close enough to see his heavy eyes marred by unshed tears. “You look good under the moonlight.” You joke in an attempt to make him smile.

Ekko manages to chuckle softly, letting you drape the fluffy blanket around his shoulders. Your warm fingers grazing along his cool skin, sending goosebumps on his lean arms.

“Do you find my frown charming?”

You smile kindly, knuckles brushing down his goosebumps. “It’s the tear stained cheeks that gets me everytime.”

He scoffs with a small smile, attention turned towards the Piltover sky. The smell of burnt paper and violets linger in the air, frown deepening at his racing thoughts.

“Will you stay?”

With trepidation, you take his hand in yours, giving him enough time to pull away. He doesn't, instead, he weaves his fingers around yours. His grip is weak, but you can feel how much he needed it by how his eyes stare at your joined hands.

“Of course, whatever you need, Ekko.” You'll stay forever if he asks.

He nods, eyes staying downturned. “I wanted to stay at that place.” Letting out a shaky breath, he closes his eyes, trying to remember what they look like in his mind's eye. Faces that he once thought that he'll never see again. Faces that he had to say goodbye to. “But that would be selfish. I couldn't—” you squeeze his hand. “—I couldn't just leave this place and let it burn.”

The last two years have melded together in your head. All those months of waiting for him at the edge of the hideout, never losing hope, not even when they declared him dead. And then the war came, and you two didn't have the time to reunite, until it ended with you laying half dead on the streets of Piltover. Waking up to him holding your hand in a grip, wishing for you to open your eyes. And you did. A year later, he comes to you, angry and furious, wanting to let it all out. You still remember the day he told you exactly what happened when he disappeared for months like it was yesterday.

He recalls it all like it was a dream, a dream that was destined to be forgotten once he awakes. He didn't want to wake up, not when everything he always dreamed of was there. He gripped onto you tightly that day, held onto you until the sun rose. Nothing was left unsaid, his story left a hole in your heart, wishing that you've seen it for yourself. But you're afraid that you wouldn't be strong enough to leave, as strong as him who made a difficult choice to leave.

He has experienced unthinkable loss, a longing you've never felt. You don't have the exact words to comfort him, to soothe his want, so you move closer to him, fixing where the blanket has fallen and wrapping it over his body like a warm cocoon. You could only hope that it's enough, but you know it will never be enough.

Ekko tucks his head on your shoulder, hand finding its way over to your raised scar. His thumb traces along the skin, feeling your warmth and in turn comforting you. He knows the pain you're in too, he witnessed it, all the nights you've hid away only to come back with red eyes and grief etched on your face.

“I couldn't leave you and Zaun behind.” He mumbles against your shoulder.

Your heart wretches out of your chest. “It wouldn't be selfish.” You say, whispering it into the air around you. “I think— I would've done what you wanted to do. I wouldn't be strong enough to leave, but you did.” He leans away, eyes soft and shining under the moonlight as he meets with your eyes. “You're brave, Ekko. You might not want everyone to know what you had to do to save everyone, but I know. And I'm forever grateful for what you did. For what you have sacrificed so we could live. I'll remember it until I can't, even then, I'll try not to forget.” Cupping his jaw, you watch as a tear slides down. You wipe it away gingerly, smiling at him as he leans against your warmth, eyes closing, shoulders slumping with every word you utter. “You did well, Ekko.”

He moves forward, leaning his forehead against your own, affection radiating off him. “Thank you.”

“We'll be okay. We have time.”

“I know.” He has seen it, one day that dream will come true.

With a tender squeeze, his hand takes the other edge of the blanket, pulling and covering you with its warmth right next to him.