#Advanced Weight Loss
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
anoosbeauty · 1 year ago
Text
0 notes
crimeronan · 1 year ago
Text
yall i had enough money to fully grocery shop for the first time in forever and i'm SO FUCKING EXCITED. I GOT BOXES OF FRUIT. TOMATOES. GARLIC. I GOT FROZEN DINNERS AND SNACKS. I GOT TONS OF PASTA AND RICE AND BEANS AND SALSA. I GOT LUNCH MEAT AND TOILET PAPER I GOT JUICE
36 notes · View notes
skinnyhoedefender · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Current activities after whatever the hell these HSC trial exams are
3 notes · View notes
divinityaesthetics · 4 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
Med Spa Creve Coeur
Divinity Aesthetics is a luxury Med Spa in Creve Coeur, offering advanced anti-aging treatments, injectables, hair restoration, skin care, and body contouring. Their expert team helps clients achieve youthful beauty with personalized treatments in a relaxing, modern environment. Proudly serving the St. Louis area, Divinity Aesthetics combines expertise with high-quality care for optimal results.
0 notes
hitch-ride · 2 months ago
Text
youtube
LIPOZEM Is the Natural Metabolism Boost You've Been Missing! REVIEW
1 note · View note
yuvaap · 5 months ago
Text
Feeling stressed? Try natural ways to relax! Yoga, dance, strength training, and meditation can help you feel better. Discover these soothing practices with us. Start your wellness journey here.
0 notes
drgouravdas · 6 months ago
Text
0 notes
self-care-tips-free · 8 months ago
Text
Ketosis Advanced: The Viral Weight Loss Solution - Fact or Fad?
0 notes
lovesculprit · 3 months ago
Text
Kinktober Day 11 - Virginity Loss with Kento Nanami
contains: nsfw content: (mdni), fempov, pnv (protected), loss of virginity, oral (reader receiving), fingering, age gap (legal - reader is college age), soft nanami
˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 10k (bear with me here, it’s slow)
a/n: i apologise in advance for how soft this is, it is sickeningly sweet and a heads up, the writing style of this is a little different to some of the prior ones i've posted here...it's less horny smut in the way its written and more wordy? so if this one's not for you, it's all good, sometimes i just like to mix it up <333
Tumblr media
The cool October air nipped at your bare skin as you stood out front of the crowded house, your angel wings from your costume rustling softly in the breeze. The party was fun, but it was getting late, and getting home was an issue. 
The problem was, you couldn't call your dad. He'd have too many questions, too many concerns about why you were out so late. Besides, the revealing nature of your outfit wouldn't have gone unnoticed, and you weren't in the mood to listen to a lecture.
Your phone hovered in your hand, a name already highlighted. Nanami Kento. Your dad's best friend, a reliable, quiet man you'd known for a couple years. He was the safest option honestly and maybe a part of you was pleased with the notion of calling him, of seeing him after the night's festivities. There had always been something about the way Nanami carried himself-so composed, so controlled, it left you curious.
You took one deep breath before pressing the call button. It rang only twice before his smooth steady voice came through the line. "Are you alright?" he asked instantly, as though he'd sensed something was wrong, just from seeing your number at this time. 
"I'm fine," you quickly assured him. "It's just. I'm at a party, and it's gotten late. I need a ride, and I really can't call my dad soo….”
There was a moment of silence, stretching the pause to its limits as he finally replied. "Text me the address. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
Waiting around for fifteen minutes in the cold had your mind racing. All you could do was hope he wouldn't say too much about your outfit, a white dress a little too short, with wings fastened to your back and a halo precariously balanced on your head. It had drawn enough attention at the party already, though you'd shrugged it off with nervous laughter. Nanami was an altogether different story, though, and the thought of him looking at you like this made you feel nervous.
Sure enough, in exactly fifteen minutes, Nanami's black car pulled up in front of the house. You quickly headed towards it, heels clicking across the pavement. As soon as you opened the passenger door and slid inside, his eyes raked over you.
"Thanks for picking me up," you said softly, trying not to meet his gaze as you buckled yourself in.
But Nanami's silence was heavy, and you could almost feel the weight of his stare. He didn't say anything right away, eyes staying fixed on your outfit-the dress riding high on your thighs, the soft glow of your wings innocent. His jaw tightened slightly, a barely perceptible movement, but you noticed it.
"Of course," he finally replied, his voice gruffer than usual, with an edge to it. "But that's quite the costume."
You felt shy under his gaze, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. "It's just a Halloween costume. You know, harmless fun."
"Harmless fun," he repeated, his eyes darting back to the road as he shifted the car into drive. But the way he said it-twisted something in your stomach, a tension building between you impossible to ignore.
Nanami didn't look away from the road, but his thoughts were far from innocent. He knew he shouldn't be looking at you like this, his best friend's daughter, in a dress that didn't leave much to his imagination. Yet, there was something outright magnetic in the way you looked tonight-the way soft fabric clung to your body, pure white of an angel costume contrasting sharply with the rising inferno inside him.
He gripped the wheel a little harder, his knuckles white. What was wrong with him? You were innocent, too young for him- but the way you moved, the way you shifted in your seat as if aware of how you were making him feel, it stirred something primal in him.
"Did you have fun?" he asked way too calmly, trying to distract himself.
You nodded. "Yeah, it was good. Just got too late, and well, you know."
He couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing along the smooth skin of your legs and then up to your face, lit up in a soft glow from the passing streetlights. He tried to keep a clear head, act like he wasn’t losing his mind over being this close in proximity to you. It didn't help that the scent of your perfume lingered in the air between you, sweet and inviting.
"Your dad doesn't know you're dressed like this," he said-half a question, half a statement of fact.
You shook your head. "No… he wouldn't exactly approve." There was a little, nervous laugh in your voice.
Nanami grunted in response. "He wouldn't."
The tension between you both grew thicker, heavy with unspoken emotion until it was almost palpable in the cramped interior of the car. Nanami couldn't clear his head. What would your father think if he knew how hard it was for Nanami to keep his thoughts pure? How hard it was to pretend the sight of you, in that tight little dress, hadn't set something off inside him?
You shifted in your seat again, the hem of your dress rose just a little higher on your thighs to catch Nanami's attention yet again as he had to adjust in his seat.
The car hummed on silently, but it was obvious that he was trying to keep his cool, trying to ignore the pull between you both, and for some reason, you decided not to make it easy for him.
You shifted a bit in your seat, letting your legs cross; the hem of your skirt inched up just a bit more. You caught the slightest tensing of Nanami's jaw out of the corner of your eye, though he kept his gaze firmly trained on the road.
You bit your lip to suppress a smile. "You know," you said softly, a teasing edge creeping into your tone, "I've never seen you this quiet. You always seem so assured."
Nanami's brow furrowed and he let out a short breath. "It's late," he replied; the words were clipped, strained as if he wanted to force the conversation into something normal.
You weren't buying it. His body language betrayed him-tension in the posture of his body spoke volumes his words never did. You knew with just a little more prodding-a test of the waters-he'd crack.
You lifted a casual hand to your head to adjust your halo headband, your fingers delving through your hair to do so, before you laid your hand on your thigh, letting the fingers linger as you shifted again, angling yourself slightly toward him.
"Thanks for picking me up," you said, your voice soft and laced with something a little too sweet, a little too insinuating. "I guess I could've called someone else, but… I wanted you to be the one."
Nanami's hold on the wheel stiffened further, and you could almost hear the battle raging inside him. His eyes flickered sideways to you, only for a moment, before snapping back to the road.
“Really?" he growled, almost inaudible, the tone low, a little threatening.
You nodded, biting your lip as you leaned closer, your hand lightly brushing his arm as you adjusted once more. "Yeah… I feel safe with you.”
There it was, the first gap in his well-considered armour. He said nothing for a moment. It was as if every unspoken word weighed the air inside the car down and pressed on both of you with its unspoken weight.
Then, wordlessly, instead of turning down the street that would lead to your house, he turned left and went in the opposite direction. You blinked once or twice, peering out of the window just to confirm that he wasn't actually getting onto your usual route.
"Um. my house is the other way," you said light, though curious.
Nanami remained silent for another beat as the car sped through the quiet, dimly lit streets. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice rougher than before.
"I know."
Your heart skipped a beat, and a shiver ran down your spine at the implication: He knew. He knew exactly what he was doing. And instead of taking you home, he was detouring off course on purpose. A decision he had made despite the battle that had raged in his brain.
"Where are we going?" you asked, though the answer was just starting to formulate in your mind.
"My place." Nanami replied in a low voice, very nearly too calm.
Of course his words only had one meaning, and you paused for a second, the situation settling into your consciousness. It wasn't a decision he had only just now considered. He had thought about this, about you—and the barrier he'd held up for so long was starting to crack.
A part of you knew this might have crossed the line, a line neither of you could come back from. In the silence of the car, though, that pull between you became impossible to ignore.
You swallowed as your heart raced in your chest, shifting slightly in your seat as his words sank in. "Your place… are you sure?"
Nanami's grip on the steering wheel loosened, but only for a moment as he let a slow, conscious breath escape. He cast a look in your direction then, something dark in his gaze-a warning, and yet, something deeper, something feral. "No," he admitted in a low voice with a trace of growl. "But I'm doing it anyway."
His place. He was taking you there, and implications that sent your tummy fluttering into somersaults of excitement and uncertainty when he said so. There was no going back once you crossed this threshold.
The time quickly passed and it wasn’t long before the soft hum of the engine stopped, and all that could be heard was your quickened breathing.
Nanami turned to you; his eyes locked with yours. In them was an unspoken question. He wasn't forcing you; this was something you had to step into on your own volition.
You nodded at him and he nodded slightly in return before moving to open the car door for you. His hand was soft and warm in yours as he guided you out. He took you inside and towards the lift. The silence between you was evident, but not uncomfortable. It was charged, alive with possibilities neither of you could deny any more.
As the lift opened onto his floor, Nanami escorted you down the silent hall to his apartment. His steps were sure, steady, but you could feel the tension emanating off of him like a coiled spring ready to snap. He hastily unlocked the door before gesturing you inside.
You stepped inside and the door clicked shut behind you, sealing the two of you into the quiet, dimly lit space. Nanami's apartment was sleek, minimalist, much like the man himself-clean lines, understated elegance. It was intimate, private, and the thought of being alone with him here made your skin tingle.
You turned toward him, soft light from the city filtering in through the windows and casting shadows across his face. He watched you once more, his eyes dark and intense. A silent war inside himself as he struggled to keep his restraint.
"You can still change your mind," he said, low and rough. "Sleep in the spare bedroom- and I won't push this any further."
Your eyes ran across his face, before meeting his gaze. Hal of you screamed to close the distance between the two of you, whilst the other half screamed to sleep in the spare bedroom and never look back on this moment.
But this wasn't about lust or desire; this was crossing a line, changing the dynamic between you both forever, but one you were ready to.
You leaned in towards him, your fingers brushing lightly against his chest. You took note of the quick rise and fall of his chest and the fast beating of his heart under your fingertips. His eyes darkened, his control slipping just that little bit more as he watched you.
"I'm not changing my mind," you whispered softly, resolutely. "I want this."
Nanami exhaled sharply, the last thread of restraint snapping as he closed the remaining distance between you. His hand cupped your cheek, his touch just as gentle as you’d expected.
For a moment, he just looked at you, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin, as if giving you one final chance to pull away.
But you didn’t.
With a low growl, Nanami's lips finally crashed into yours. He kissed you passionately as if he had been holding back far too long. His hand slid around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as he pressed your body flush against his, trying to get as physically close to you as possible.
The kiss deepened, and all the tension and desire that had built between you finally exploded in a rush of heat and sensation. You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you succumbed to the moment, to him.
One of his hands had clutched your waist as he leaned you up against the wall, his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth. It was quickly heating up; everything was going so fast. And though you'd expected it, you suddenly became nervous, not knowing what to do, so you couldn't help but blurt out…
“I’m a virgin-”
Nanami froze when you uttered those words, the revelation hanging in the air like a weight that neither of you could ignore. His lips lingered on yours, but the urgency that had driven his actions moments before seemed to vanish, replaced by a sudden stillness. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression torn, conflicted. You could feel the way his chest rose and fell unevenly, the tension coiling tighter inside him.
He should stop. He knows that.
"You're a virgin," he repeated softly, as if trying to ground himself in the reality of the situation. The responsibility of what this meant sank in, his protective instincts roaring louder than his desire. The weight of his role in your life—being your father's best friend, older, more experienced—should have been enough to make him back away, to put distance between you for your own good.
But it didn’t.
Despite everything, despite knowing he should be the responsible one and walk away, the pull he felt toward you was undeniable. His thumb gently traced the outline of your jaw, the conflict clear in his eyes as they searched yours. There was something about you—your trust, your innocence—that stirred something deep inside him, something he couldn’t easily shake off.
"I shouldn't.," he growled low and hoarse, yet with an edge, a residual hunger he could not hide. He closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled sharply as if trying to draw himself back in.
But when he opened them again, his gaze darkened, the tension between you flaring back to life. You saw the conflict, the war between what he knew was right and what he wanted more than anything in that moment.
"I-” Nanami continued, his hands moving to cradle your face, his touch still gentle despite the storm raging within him. "This changes everything."
You could feel the restraint, the repression, but you could also feel the resolve slipping. He was a man who prided himself on control, on doing the right thing-but right now, you were making him question all of that.
"I know it does," you whispered, stepping closer, your body brushing against his in a way that made his breath hitch. "But I trust you. I want this… I want you."
Your words seemed to cut through to him, and for a long moment, the air between you crackled with something electric, something neither of you could deny any longer.
He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. "If we do this," he said quietly, his voice low, serious, "There’s no going back. I need you to be sure. This is… not something I can take lightly."
His thumb brushed against your cheek, his eyes searching yours one last time, giving you the opportunity to pull away. But you didn’t. You met his gaze, your hand resting over his heart, feeling its rapid thrum beneath your palm.
"I'm sure," you whispered, your voice steady, filled with the weight of the decision you had already made.
The last bit of tension left Nanami’s shoulders as he closed the distance between you again, his lips finding yours with a renewed intensity. But this time, his kiss was slower, more deliberate, as if savouring every moment, every taste of you. His hands slid down your back, pulling you closer, but there was no rush, no urgency. He was letting you lead, letting you set the pace.
As his hands moved over your body, exploring with careful restraint, it was clear he was holding back. Despite the fire between you, despite the overwhelming desire, he was still thinking of you, still making sure you felt safe, cherished, in this moment.
Nanami’s heart raced as he led you to his bedroom, the very act feeling surreal. Every step was imbued with a sense of gravity, as though the weight of the moment hung in the air around you, thickening with anticipation and vulnerability. He was acutely aware of the fabric of your outfit, how it hugged your curves and accentuated your delicate features, your halo headband adding to the angelic aura that surrounded you. It was intoxicating, and he felt the primal urge to claim you, to make you his.
The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing against the walls as the city lights filtered in through the curtains. Nanami could hardly breathe as he turned to face you, taking in the sight of you standing there—innocent yet undeniably alluring, a vision that pulled at the very edges of his sanity. You looked like something out of a dream, and he felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him.
"I shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. The conflict within him raged on, and yet, as he looked at you—his angel—he couldn't shake the selfish longing that consumed him. Despite knowing he didn’t deserve to indulge in this, he found himself wanting you more than anything else in that moment.
As you stood there, your gaze unwavering, your confidence shining through your innocence, it was clear you were ready to embrace whatever was to come. Nanami took a deep breath, pushing the guilt aside. He didn’t want to be the one to hold back your desires. Not when you were offering him a chance to explore this connection.
"You’re so beautiful," he breathed, stepping closer, his hands reaching out to frame your face. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if committing the moment to memory. The softness of your skin beneath his touch sent a jolt of electricity through him.
"Breathtaking," he whispered again, almost reverently. The weight of those words held true as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing against yours. The hesitation melted away, and he captured your mouth with his again, deepening the kiss with a fervour that spoke of his hunger, of his desire to claim you in every way possible.
His hands roamed over your waist, trailing down to your hips, fingers digging in slightly as he pulled you closer. There was a desperation in his touch now, a need to feel every inch of you pressed against him. He wanted to memorise the way you felt, the way your body fit perfectly against his, like you were made for him.
When he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, there was a fire in his gaze that reflected the storm within him. "Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice a low rumble, though he knew what your answer would be. Deep down, he wanted to hear it, wanted the reassurance that you were truly ready to take this step with him.
“I’ve never been more sure,” you replied, your voice steady, filled with a confidence that both excited and terrified him.
With that, Nanami leaned in again, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of his longing into it. It was both gentle and consuming, a collision of desire and tenderness that left you breathless. The world outside faded away as he lost himself in the sensation of you—the taste of your lips, the warmth of your body pressed against his, the way your hands tangled in his hair, urging him on.
As he guided you back onto the bed, he felt the weight of his own insecurities creep back in. He was an older man, your father’s best friend, someone who was supposed to protect you, not take advantage of your trust. But looking at you, lost in the moment, an angel who was willing to give herself to him, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. This was a gift, a chance to experience something beautiful with you, and he would be damned if he let that go.
There was a sense of awe in him as he looked at you, your innocence and trust in him making him feel both powerful and vulnerable. This was different from anything he had ever experienced before, and it left him unsure of how to proceed.
He leaned over you, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek, his touch tender and gentle. "I promise to take care of you," he whispered, his voice low and filled with the sincerity of his intent.
You smiled up at him, your trust in him shining through your eyes. "I know," you replied, your voice soft and confident.
Nanami's breath hitched as he took in the sight of you lying beneath him, the white dress clinging to you. The fabric seemed to glow in the dim light of the room, accentuating your delicate features and the innocence that radiated from you. His heart swelled with a mix of desire and reverence, knowing that he was about to experience something truly special.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck, trailing soft kisses along your jawline, down to your collarbone. The taste of your skin, the subtle scent of your perfume, it all combined to create a heady sensation that made his head spin.
His hands roamed over your body, caressing you through the thin fabric of your dress, mapping out the contours of your figure. He could feel the heat of your skin beneath his touch, and it only served to fuel the fire burning within him.
"You're perfect," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "An angel, sent just for me."
You shivered at his touch, your body arching into his as you sought more of his attention. Your hands moved to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons, desperate to feel his skin against yours.
Nanami chuckled softly, his breath warm against your neck. "Patience, sweetheart. Let me savour this moment."
He helped you with his shirt, shrugging it off and tossing it aside, revealing his toned chest and abs. The sight of his muscular form and you couldn't help but run your hands over his skin, marvelling at the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch.
Nanami groaned at your exploration, his hips pressing against yours, the evidence of his desire evident in the way his erection strained against his pants, pressing deliciously against your thigh. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you, tasting you.
His hands roamed over your body, caressing you. He resumed his kisses along your skin, his teeth grazing you skin ever so slightly. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, your body arching into his touch, craving more.
"I want to worship every inch of you." he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire.
His hands slid down to your thighs, bunching up the skirt of your dress, exposing more of your smooth skin. He took his time, savouring the feel of you, the way your body responded to his touch.
You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, the intensity of his desire, and it only served to fuel your own. Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles, the way his heart raced beneath your touch.
Nanami's lips found yours again, his kiss deep and passionate, pouring all of his longing into it. He rolled his hips against yours, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body.
"I want you," he breathed, his voice raw with need. "I want to make you mine, to claim you in every way possible."
He tugged at the fabric of your dress, his intentions clear, but something held him back. The thought of ruining the delicate garment, of marring your innocence, seemed sacrilegious.
Instead, he let his hands roam beneath it, his fingers teasing along your inner thighs, higher and higher, until he reached your panties. He could feel the heat from you, the dampness that betrayed your desire.
"Tell me you want this," he whispered, his fingers already circling your most clit through the cotton fabric. "Tell me you're ready for me."
Nanami's fingers continued to tease and explore, his touch both gentle and insistent. You could feel the pressure building within you, your body responding to his every caress, every brush of his lips against your skin. The heat between you was palpable, the air thick with the scent of your combined desire.
"I want this," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "I want you, Nanami- Please, don't make me wait any longer."
His eyes darkened with hunger at your words, and he wasted no time in responding. He hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs, exposing you to his hungry gaze.
"You're perfect," he murmured, his fingers tracing the delicate folds, feeling the slickness that coated your skin. "So wet, so ready for me."
He leaned down, his breath hot against your skin, his lips brushing against your inner thigh. Slowly, teasingly, he trailed kisses up your leg, his stubble rasping against your sensitive skin, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. He couldn’t help but grin at every slight shuffle from you as he moved closer to your pussy, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy your shyness.
When he finally reached your core, he inhaled deeply, savouring the scent of your arousal. He looked up at you, his eyes locked with yours, before he leaned in and ran his tongue along your folds, tasting you for the first time.
You gasped at the sensation, your hips bucking involuntarily against his mouth. Nanami groaned in response, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you in place as he continued his exploration.
He lapped at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, before dipping lower to your entrance, tasting your essence. He alternated between licking and sucking, his movements slow and deliberate, building the tension within you with each pass of his tongue. “So fucking sweet-” he groaned.
Nanami's tongue continued its relentless assault on your most sensitive areas, licking and sucking, driving you closer to the edge with each pass. As your pleasure mounted, he slowly eased a finger into your tight heat, his touch gentle and patient.
Your hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on. The pleasure was intense, building with each passing second, threatening to consume you entirely.
He worked you slowly, his finger pumping in and out, curling to hit that spot deep inside that made your toes curl. The sensation of his tongue and finger combined was almost too much to bear, and you could feel your walls beginning to flutter around him. “Such a good girl.”
He added a second finger, stretching you further, his pace increasing as he sensed your impending release. His fingers moved in tandem with his tongue, one hand working your clit while the other drove into you, stoking the fire that burned within you.
Your moans filled the room, your body writhing beneath his touch, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Nanami could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, your body tensing as you neared your peak. “Come on sweetheart, give it to me.”
As he felt your body tense beneath him, your thighs trembling, he knew you were close. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit, his fingers pumping harder, deeper, determined to bring you to the heights of ecstasy. The world narrowed down to the sensation of his mouth and hands on your body, the pleasure consuming you entirely.
Nanami’s voice was soft but commanding. “That’s it,” he murmured, his words vibrating through you as he flicked his tongue against your clit. “Let go, my angel. Give yourself to me.”
With a final thrust of his fingers, your body gave in. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body trembling beneath him as you cried out his name, lost in the intensity of the moment. He stayed with you through every pulse of pleasure, his mouth working you gently as your climax washed over you, prolonging the sensation by sucking on your clit until you could no longer take it.
As you came down from your high, your breathing ragged, Nanami slowly withdrew his fingers, placing soft kisses along your thigh before sitting up. His gaze was filled with adoration as he watched you recover, his eyes trailing over your body with reverence. “You’re beautiful when you come undone,” he said softly, his voice full of awe. “I could worship you like this for hours.”
Nanami leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, his hands cupping your face, thumbs brushing away the single tear that had escaped during your climax and he couldn’t stop his smirk, you were so sensitive and he’d barely even started. “Are you okay?” he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with care, “I want to make sure I don't push you too far.”
You nodded, overwhelmed with emotion, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his eyes. "I just want you, Nanami," you whispered, your voice filled with longing.
His gaze softened as he reached for his belt, slowly undoing the buckle, his movements deliberate. He paused, searching your eyes for any hesitation, any uncertainty. But all he found was the same desire reflected back at him.
He smiled softly, leaning over to the bedside table and going through the drawer before retrieving a condom and some lube, ready to continue, but ensuring your comfort every step of the way.
Nanami’s hands moved with care as he opened the condom, his gaze still focused intently on you, as if each moment was something to be cherished. His heart raced, not just with the heat of desire, but with the overwhelming tenderness he felt for you. He wanted everything to be perfect—gentle, yet powerful in its intimacy.
The tension in the room was palpable, but it wasn’t just sexual. It was the weight of trust, the sacred bond forming between you as he prepared for what was to come. You felt it too, that sense of something so deeply meaningful, and it made your pulse quicken.
With the condom securely in place, Nanami applied a generous amount of lube as he soaked in the sight of your body beneath him, your silk dress still bunched around your waist. His eyes were filled with a mixture of admiration and reverence as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, full of love and passion.
“I need you to tell me if you’re okay, if anything feels wrong,” he whispered, his voice low but filled with concern. “Do you wanna’ be on top? It might be better for you.”
You felt a surge of warmth in your chest at Nanami’s question, his consideration only deepening the intimacy between you. His concern was genuine, and it made you feel cherished in a way you had never experienced before. The idea of being in control, of setting the pace, appealed to you, especially with the softness and care in his gaze.
You nodded, smiling up at him, the anticipation building in the pit of your stomach. “Yeah, I think I’d like that,” you replied softly, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside of you.
Nanami’s eyes softened even further, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile. With a gentle movement, he shifted positions, lying back on the bed, his strong arms helping you climb atop him. You straddled his hips, your hands resting on his chest for balance, feeling the heat of his body beneath your palms. The vulnerability of the moment didn’t make you feel exposed—it made you feel powerful, like you were in control, but still cradled in his unwavering support.
Nanami’s hands found your thighs, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your skin as he looked up at you with reverence. “Take your time,” he murmured, his voice deep and comforting. “There’s no rush.”
You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you hovered just above his cock. You adjusted and the sensation of his hardness against your pussy sent a jolt of excitement through you, and you felt yourself growing even wetter, your body more than ready for him. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, the initial stretch making you gasp softly and you had to pause for a moment before taking a little more. Nanami’s grip on your thighs tightened just a fraction, his breath hitching in his throat as he felt you take him in, inch by inch.
You slowly took more of him in, feeling more of a stretch, a slight sting from a fullness that made your body tremble with a mixture of pleasure and anticipation. You could feel Nanami’s hands tightening their grip on your thighs, his silent encouragement pushing you forward, but never rushing you. His gaze was fixed on your face, filled with nothing but patience and reverence.
You glanced down, your eyes following the path of your own body as you straddled him, only to realise with a jolt that you weren’t fully there yet. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you noticed how much of him was still left to take. The realisation made your heart race, a mixture of awe and nervousness swirling inside you.
Nanami seemed to sense your hesitation, his hands moving from your thighs to your waist, steadying you. He lifted his head slightly, brushing a kiss against your collarbone, his warm breath soothing against your skin. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice gentle but reassuring. “You’re doing so well. Take your time. We don’t need to rush anything.”
His words grounded you, reminding you of the trust you shared, the connection that went beyond the physical. You let out a shaky breath, nodding as you slowly relaxed into him again, feeling his fingers gently massaging your waist. You could feel his restraint, the way his body tensed under yours, but he held back for you, waiting, letting you set the pace.
You lowered yourself further, feeling the stretch intensify, your body accommodating his size inch by inch. A soft whimper escaped your lips as you took him in completely, the fullness sending a wave of pleasure mixed with a slight sting through your core. You paused, breathless, your body adjusting to the sensation, the initial tightness making you shudder.
The feeling of fullness was overwhelming, but in the best way possible. A deep groan escaped Nanami’s lips, his hands now gripping your hips as he gazed up at you with pure desire, mixed with tenderness. You sat there for a moment, letting your body get used to the sensation, and Nanami’s hands continued their gentle, grounding movements on your skin.
His gaze was filled with concern and affection, watching your every reaction carefully, ensuring that you were okay. He let out a low groan, his chest rising and falling with deep, measured breaths as he fought to control his own desire, giving you the time you needed.
“Take all the time you need,” he murmured softly, his voice laced with restraint and tenderness. He leaned up slightly, brushing a gentle kiss against your temple, his lips lingering there, offering comfort and reassurance. “I’m here with you.”
You nodded, eyes closing as you focused on the feeling of him inside you, the stretch easing bit by bit as your body adjusted. The sting was still there, but it began to fade, replaced by a warm, overwhelming sense of connection. Your muscles relaxed, the tension in your body melting as you slowly started to get used to the fullness, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you like a protective cocoon.
Nanami’s thumbs brushed gentle circles over your hips, his voice a soothing balm. “You feel incredible,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.
He was big, but the lube helped, and you allowed yourself to adjust comfortably. You could see the strain in his expression, the effort it took for him to hold back, to let you take the lead. It made you smile, knowing how much he wanted you but how much more he wanted to take care of you.
You began to move slowly, adjusting to the sensation of him inside you. With each shift of your hips, the initial tightness gave way to a deeper, more profound pleasure, but the fullness still made you pause every now and then, needing time to take it all in. Nanami’s hands caressed your skin, his touch comforting and grounding, encouraging you to move at your own pace.
As you lifted yourself up slightly, you felt a slight bit of discomfort that reminded you of the tenderness of the moment. Glancing down, you noticed a small spot of blood where your bodies met. Your breath hitched for a second, a wave of nervousness flickering through you, you weren’t worried, it was your first time, after all. Still, the sight made your heart race, if only for a brief moment.
Before you could say anything, Nanami’s hand moved to cup your cheek, his eyes soft and filled with concern. He had noticed your gaze and the subtle change in your expression. “Hey,” he whispered, his thumb brushing your cheek in slow, soothing circles. “It’s okay. That’s normal.”
His voice was calm, reassuring, like a gentle anchor pulling you back to the present. His eyes never wavered from yours, filled with nothing but tenderness and understanding. “If it’s too much, we can stop. You don’t have to push yourself, love.”
You shook your head softly, your chest swelling with affection for him, for the way he always prioritised your comfort. "No, it’s okay,” you murmured, your voice steady, despite the nerves that had briefly surfaced.
“You’re doing so well.” he murmured, his voice deep and strained with pleasure. His hands guided your hips in a slow rhythm, matching your pace.
Your confidence grew with each movement, the connection between you intensifying. The pleasure coursed through you like a steady pulse, and you couldn’t help but smile as you realised how much you enjoyed the feeling of being in control, of taking your time with him. Despite the initial discomfort, the intimacy was beyond anything you had imagined.
Nanami’s hands moved to your waist, guiding you but never forcing your pace. His eyes never left yours, watching you with a mix of adoration and hunger, as if he was committing every detail of this moment to memory. His quiet groans and whispered praises filled the room, encouraging you to move faster, to take what you needed from him.
The rhythm between you and Nanami deepened, each movement becoming a sacred dance of shared desire. As you rode him, the discomfort faded, replaced by waves of pleasure that seemed to ripple through your entire being. The connection you felt, the intimacy between you, was almost otherworldly—like something pure and divine. It was as if you were both part of something much larger than the physical act itself, something holy, like the intertwining of souls.
Nanami’s quiet groans echoed softly in your ears, blending with the sound of your own breathless moans. His eyes never wavered from yours, holding you in a gaze that felt reverent, as if he were worshipping you in this moment. His hands on your waist were not just guiding you—they were anchoring you to this present, sacred moment. The tenderness in his touch was a constant reminder that this wasn’t just about pleasure—it was about connection, trust, and love.
With each gentle rise and fall of your hips, you felt the tension between you building, a shared crescendo that felt like a prayer being offered to the heavens. The room seemed to glow, the soft light casting shadows that danced across your skin, making the moment feel almost ethereal. You could feel Nanami’s restraint, the way he held back, allowing you to lead, to take what you needed.
You glanced down again, noticing the faint trace of blood still lingering where your bodies met, but instead of worry, it felt like a symbol of something being born between the two of you. It was raw and beautiful in a way that made your heart swell.
Nanami’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, his words a low, reverent whisper. “You’re divine,” he Nanami's voice pulled you from your thoughts, his whispered words, "You're divine," he breathed, his hands squeezing your hips gently as you moved. "You feel so damn perfect."
Shivers ran across your skin at his praise. You had never felt so connected with another person-so enveloped in the pleasure, in the love radiating between you.
But with every shift it grew, not just from the physical, but it felt as though your very souls were craving for each other, entwining like a vine in a precious garden. Every word that came from Nanami was some sort of hallowed sound. His breath on your lips, hands against your skin...it was the kind of veneration one pays to something holy.
Nanami's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his touch soft and soothing. Soft kisses pressed against your forehead, your cheeks, your lips-each one another silent declaration of love to you.
As Nanami held you close, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin, a fleeting thought crossed his mind. You were his best friend's daughter. It came to him in a flash, momentarily pulling him out of the sacredness of the moment, but he shut it down, refusing to let it intrude.
He wasn't thinking about that now, not when you were here with him, your bodies connected in such a profound, intimate manner. The tenderness in his touch was real; the love he felt for you stronger than any sense of guilt or propriety. It wasn't about what anyone else might think. It was about you, about the trust and bond you'd built together.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to your temple, a silent reassurance, as if it was a sealing of his resolution. Nothing was going to mar this moment-not the past, not expectations, not the weight of responsibility. His fingers dug into your skin, not in a harmful manner but in one speaking volumes about his need to hold on to you, to keep you close. "I'm here," he whispered-a quiet affirmation, yet a promise to himself and you, all at once. "I’ll be all yours-"
The words spoke of everything unsaid, all he couldn't explain yet knew in his heart.
With every subtle rise and fall of your hips, every time your walls clenched around his cock, the tension of the moment surged between you-a crescendo of shared longing that tugged along your very veins like a heartbeat. But as you got lost in the rhythm, you felt the change in Nanami's energy. "Let me take over," he whispered, voice low and full of promise. You nodded, breathless, feeling the thrill of anticipation at the thought.
As you eased yourself off him, his hands guided you gently to the side, and he shifted his position with grace. You found yourself lying back against the soft sheets as your heart pounded in your chest.
As Nanami settled between your legs, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity in them making your heart race. There was something of the power in his eyes, a quiet confidence that coursed a thrill through you. You felt vulnerable yet cherished, knowing he was fully present, ready to guide you deeper into this moment.
Nanami lifted your ankles up, with a deliberate care, and laid them over his shoulders. The position opened you up to him; it heightened the sensation as he moved in closer. A soft gasp escaped you in a mix of surprise and delight flooding the senses because the positioning allowed for a completely new depth of connection.
"Just breathe," he whispered, his tone silky and soothing as he watched your reaction. His hands wrapped around your legs, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin as he gently pushed his cock inside again, sliding through with ease now. The angle was completely different, hitting all the right spots, sending jolts of pleasure through your core.
His thrusts were slow and deep, taking his time, wanting you to feel every inch of him inside you. "Kento," you gasped, body instinctively arching toward him as pleasure mounted inside of you. This position allowed him to explore you more fully, each thrust setting off a fire that coursed through your veins, racing your heart and quickening your breath.
He watched you intently, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and tenderness, as if he were committing to memory every reaction, every sigh escaping your lips. "You're incredible," he whispered, the admiration in his voice wrapping around you like a warm caress.
He quickened the pace with each thrust, and his motions grew urgent in his urge to take you higher. The tension coiled inside of you tighter and tighter with each stroke. Nanami pressed forward, his lips grazing your forehead before tracing soft kisses down the hollow of your neck, each one sending new waves coursing through your veins. "Let go," he whispered, the soft air of his voice dancing upon your skin. "Just feel.
With his words still echoing in your mind, you succumbed to the moment and the pleasure heaving upon you like a tidal wave. Anything less would make the connection between the two all-consuming; every thrust pulls you deeper into the bliss of shared intimacy.
As he drove deeper, instinctively, your body coiled around him, pulling him in closer, urging him on. You heard the quiet, breathless groans escaping from his lips, each a testament to the overwhelming pleasure being felt together.
"Just like that-" you encouraged, your voice trembling with need as you lost yourself in the rhythm, each thrust sending you spiralling further into ecstasy. Everything else around you disappeared but the two of you entwined in a dance of passion, a sacred union of body and soul.
He was taken aback by just how beautiful you looked, lying there.
“You really do look angelic," he breathed, staring at the way the dress clung to you. It was surreal to him-how someone so beautiful, so vibrant, could be here, completely vulnerable and open, just for him. The mere thought shot a surge of possessiveness rushing through him, igniting something deep within his core.
"I can’t believe I’m the only one that gets to see you like this," he said, his voice low and husky. The unspoken implication hung in the air, heavy with meaning. A fierce pride swelled inside of him, a protective instinct that raced his heart faster. You were his, and no one else had the privilege to know you this way.
He leaned down, pressing soft kisses against your legs, savouring it. "Knowing I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this-to feel you and see you… it drives me wild," he confessed, words tumbling from his lips in an fervour that even caught him off guard. It was not merely in the act itself but in the depth of your connection, the trust that you had in one another. He couldn’t deny this had sparked up a desire of possession in him for you.
As you moved your hips to meet his thrusts, he groaned, burying his head against your shoulder, almost bending you in half from the angle he had your legs now. The deeper he thrust, the more the feeling of you wrapped around him intensified. Every thrust reminded him of the privilege he held, and he never wanted to forget the feeling of being inside you.
It wasn't one of those moments that would come and go but a promise of what was yet to be, an opportunity to get to know the inside of your relationship in that way-in ways more than physical. And in that realisation, a surge of determination overcame him to always cherish you, protect you, and make you aware of how well loved you were.
The rhythm between you picked up, Nanami holding you close as he thrust deeper, pushing you toward the edge of ecstasy. Your reactions to him-the gasps and moans falling from your lips-caused his heart to race even faster, firing up a flame of desire that threatened to consume him whole.
“I don't think I'm gonna let you go now," he murmured, his voice thick with affection. You felt shivers run down your spine at the conviction he drew behind the statement, a delicious thrill coursing through you. It sounded like a promise, a validation of this moment being more than just a one night thing.
With every thrust, it was like he testified to the fact that he knew you were meant to be together this way, bound by something more real than lust. "If you’ll have more of me, I swear I’ll treat you right" he whispered low, truthfulness in his voice raw and palpable.
As he continued to move, the pace becoming more insistent, the heat rose between you. The way you surrendered to him, trusting him implicitly, made his resolve even stronger. He wanted to protect you, to preserve this connection with every part of his being.
“I want you in my life…properly" he breathed, his voice breaking slightly, his emotions spilling over. "I want to be your person.”
Your eyes met and everything just felt so right. You could see the honesty in his eyes-the fierce protectiveness wrapping around you like a warm hug. This wasn't about desire; it was about love, wanting to be together in every sense.
He continued to move, each thrust a declaration, each moment together a step deeper into the bond you were forging. "You're mine," he repeated, his voice firm and unwavering, punctuating each word with a slow, deliberate movement. "And I'm yours, now and always."
He was putting every ounce into you, feeding the fire that was bursting to last between the two-this moment in the engraving of your hearts forever. Everything else faded around you, and it came down to just the two of you, entwined together in a dance as old as time, bound by passion and an unbreakable connection that seemed to be written across the stars.
With every thrust, the intensity between you became all too much. Nanami began to move with greater urgency, his grip upon you  tightening as he urged you toward the brink.
It was as if you could feel the pressure build up in you, spiralling tighter and tighter every time his cock hit that sweet spot inside you. The room echoed with the sounds of your shared breathing, the soft slapping of skin to skin, and the sweet symphony of pleasure mingled together.
“I’m not holding back,” he growled, urgency creeping into his tone. “I want you to feel everything. I want you to remember this.” With that, he quickened his pace, thrusting deeper, harder, pushing you both closer to the edge. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, overwhelming your senses, and you could feel the tightness coiling in your core.
“Kento,” you gasped, the sound slipping from your lips unbidden. The tension was unbearable, a sweet torment that made your heart race. You could feel your body responding instinctively, tightening around him, urging him on, begging for release.
“I’m right here,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, even as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. “Let go for me.” His words ignited a spark within you, and you felt the wave building higher, ready to crash over you both.
With one final thrust, everything aligned—the heat, the pressure, the connection—and you felt yourself spiralling over the edge. Your body trembled as waves of pleasure washed over you, crashing through you with an intensity that left you breathless. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the space between you, as ecstasy enveloped you completely.
You held onto him as you gushed around his cock, the way you clenched around him drew him deeper into the bliss and he followed closely, his own climax hitting him like a tidal wave, surging right through him. “Oh God,” he groaned, the sound raw and primal, his own body responding instinctively to the way you embraced him.
He savoured the aftershocks of the moment, thankful in this moment that he’d worn a condom. And as the waves of pleasure began to recede, you were breathless and spent.
Nanami gently lowered your legs from his shoulders, his touch tender and deliberate. He cradled your ankles in his hands, mindful of the way the position had pulled and stretched your muscles. His fingers began to massage softly, kneading the tension away with a skillful touch that made you sigh in contentment.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and warm, a blend of concern and affection. He looked at you with those deep eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort. The intimacy of the moment enveloped you both like a soft blanket, grounding you in the reality of what you’d just shared.
You nodded, a smile spreading across your lips as you felt his gentle hands work their magic. “I’m perfect,” you breathed, your heart swelling with warmth as you took in the sight of him—the way he focused on you, the care he put into every movement. “Thank you.”
Nanami’s lips curved into a satisfied smile at your words, and he leaned down, placing soft kisses along your ankles and up your calves, each press of his mouth sending a shiver of delight through your body. It felt like a sacred ritual, a way for him to honour the experience you had just shared. He continued to massage your legs, his fingers moving with deliberate care, ensuring you felt cherished and adored.
“I want to take my time with you” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and tantalising. As he kissed his way back up to your thighs, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of mischief and sincerity.
“You have me,” you replied, your voice soft but full of promise. “All of me.”
Nanami’s gaze turned serious for a moment, a flicker of something profound passing between you. “I don’t take that lightly,” he said, sincerity lacing his tone. “You mean a lot to me.”
He paused, taking in the moment, the connection that thrummed between you. He quickly discarded the condom before leaning in, capturing your lips with his in a slow, tender kiss that ignited another spark within you. The world around you faded, and all that existed was the taste of him, the warmth of his body, and the way he made you feel—safe, cherished, and completely desired.
“Let’s stay like this for a while,” Nanami whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours, creating a heady sensation that made you smile. You nodded, content to linger in this cocoon of warmth and affection, feeling utterly adored in the aftermath of your shared bliss.
The world outside ceased to exist as you both lost yourselves in each other, the echoes of your passion fading into soft whispers, leaving only the sweet sound of your hearts beating in perfect harmony.
Tumblr media
taglist:
@l0v3m3-p13as3 @hishearttohave @crybabysiri
@jays-adventure3 @nctislifue @eeveedvck @needtoloveoutloud @yowumi
@sweetpo1son @betelgeuse420 @yuhig-blog @psychedellyc @char-35
@kaeyeahsworld @sukunadckrider @ladyackermanisdead
© lovesculprit ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works
5K notes · View notes
miihho · 6 days ago
Note
Can you please write the salesman next for the kind of guy?🙏🏻🙏🏻
THE KIND OF GUY
(squid game edition boys) nsfw
The Salesman
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— HES THE KIND OF GUY who never expected to fall in love—his life was far too consumed by duties and endless responsibilities. Love wasn’t even a consideration, not until you appeared like a sudden burst of color in his monochrome world. At first, it was your skill that caught his attention, the way you effortlessly bested him in ddakji, round after round, slap after slap. Frustrated but undeniably impressed, he handed you a card, feigning indifference. But as you walked away, something unfamiliar stirred within him—a quiet ache, a sense of loss he couldn’t quite place.
He tried to push it aside, burying himself in his work, recruiting others, and maintaining the facade of control. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. Then, one day, he saw you again, sitting at your usual spot. You hadn’t joined the game, and strangely, he felt a wave of relief he couldn’t explain. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of you, asking for just one more match. The words came out almost on their own, a fragile excuse to see you again, to hear your voice, or maybe just to keep you close for a little longer.
— He’s the kind of guy who’s spent years trapped in a monotonous cycle—lonely, unfulfilled, and carrying the weight of a life that feels directionless. Every day bleeds into the next, nothing to look forward to, nothing to hold onto. But then, somehow, he acquires you. You, with your rare kindness, your quiet care, and the sweetness that seems to radiate from your every action.
You don’t even realize what you’ve done to him, how you’ve unknowingly become the one bright spot in his otherwise dull world. He starts catching himself stealing glances at you, his gaze softening without his permission. It’s the way you move, the way you speak, the way you bring life into spaces that once felt empty.
And then there are those moments—when you laugh, or when you smile at something simple—that makes his chest tighten in ways he didn’t think were possible anymore. He smiles back without realizing it, the corners of his mouth lifting in a way that feels foreign but good. You don’t just make his days better; you make him feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s still something worth living for. (He's in love)
—He’s the kind of guy who would boldly approach you, his intentions clear but unspoken. He’d ask to get to know you better, his flirting subtle at first—smiles that linger a little too long, looks that make your heart race without explanation. At first, you might be taken aback, unsure of his advances, but when he offers you something you can’t refuse, like money, your resistance crumbles. You agreed, but something in the way he looks at you makes you forget about the deal. Slowly, you start enjoying your time together more than you care to admit.
—He’s also the kind of guy who wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, not for a second. If anyone dared to claim you as theirs, especially some trash asking you out, he’d make sure they paid. He’d go to any lengths to protect what’s his, with no hesitation, no mercy. If it came to it, he wouldn’t think twice about making them disappear, just so they’d know—he was the first one, and that meant something.
But it’s not just about possessiveness. He watches over you, guards you in ways you’ll never fully see, keeping a close eye without you ever knowing. He’s always there, even when you don’t realize it—protecting you from this world that’s full of danger, keeping the darkness at bay as best as he can. It’s his silent promise to you, even if you never ask for it. He doesn’t want to see you hurt, not ever.
— He's the kind of guy who would soil his hands with blood, not hesitating for a second, if it meant protecting you from anything that threatens your peace.
— He’s the kind of guy who will make you fall for him as deeply as he’s fallen for you. He adores your smaller build against his, the way your petite hands fit perfectly when cuffed by his larger ones—it drives him wild. The contrast, the way you seem so delicate in his grasp, makes him want to claim you entirely, to make you his in every way.
But he’s not the kind of man to stop at mere affection. No, he’s the type who thrives on control. He’ll manipulate you carefully, subtly, until the thought of leaving him feels impossible—terrifying even. He wants you to need him, crave him, think of him endlessly. He’s meticulous in the way he weaves himself into your thoughts, ensuring you wake up and fall asleep with only him in mind.
And when he flirts with you, watching as your cheeks turn that irresistible shade of red, your voice faltering under his gaze—it’s everything to him. You turn into a hot, blushing mess, and he loves it. It fuels his obsession, makes him fall even harder for you, because to him, you’re the epitome of perfection. Cute, vulnerable, and entirely his.
—He’s the kind of guy who takes his time with you, the tension between you building like a carefully orchestrated symphony. When the moment feels just right—your faces close, the air thick with anticipation—he starts leaning in, his eyes locked on yours, ready to steal a kiss.
But then it hits you, the realization of what’s happening, and your face flushes a deep red. You turn away in a rush, looking anywhere but at him, your heart racing like crazy. He pauses, letting the moment linger, before chuckling softly. That low, amused laugh of his sends a shiver down your spine, and when you finally sneak a glance at him, he’s grinning.
“Cute,” he murmurs, his tone playful but laced with something deeper. Yeah, he loves teasing you—loves watching you squirm and stutter, loves the way your reactions only make you more endearing to him. And he’ll do it all over again, just to see that flustered look on your face that he can’t get enough of.
—He’s also the kind of guy who knows exactly how to manipulate you, slow and calculated, planting seeds of dependence and trust without you fully realizing it. He knows your vulnerabilities, your habits, and where to find you when you’re at your lowest.
So, when he spots you crying at your usual secluded spot, alone and trembling, he makes his move. Sitting beside you, his presence feels warm, comforting—like he’s the only safe harbor in a storm. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, his voice soft and soothing as he whispers, “There, there, it’ll be alright. I’m here.”
As you cry into his chest, he murmurs gentle reassurances, “It’s alright, baby. Cry it all out.” His hand strokes your back, his touch deliberate and grounding, and he smiles. Not the kind of smile you can see—this one is hidden, smug, satisfied. His plan is working perfectly, and you’re falling deeper into his web. And oh, how he loves it—watching you lean into him, needing him, trusting him like he’s your savior. That’s exactly where he wants you.
— He’s the kind of guy who thrives on control, especially in moments of intimacy. The kind who, with practiced ease, unclips your bra with just one hand, never breaking the intensity of your kiss. And when he pulls back, his lips hovering just above yours, he’ll smirk and whisper in that low, teasing voice, “I’m not done with you yet.”
When you bury your face into his neck, trying to stifle your moans out of shyness, he doesn’t miss a beat. The scent of his cologne and aftershave lingers, intoxicating you further, as he lets out a deep chuckle, amused at your attempt to hide.
And when he’s got you pinned beneath him, completely at his mercy, he makes sure you’re not holding back. He loves to hear you scream, loves the way his name falls from your lips like a prayer. Even when a phone call interrupts, he doesn’t stop. Oh no, he sees it as a challenge, a chance to tease you further. He’ll move slower, deeper, just to hear your breath hitch as you struggle to keep your composure.
If you try to stay professional, biting your lip to muffle the sounds threatening to escape, he’ll smirk, his pace relentless. “Go on,” he’ll purr, his voice dripping with mischief. “Try to keep quiet, baby. Let’s see how long you last.” And with that, he’ll have you unraveling, barely able to focus, completely at his mercy.
— He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t just tease you with words—he lets his actions speak louder. Even in public, fully clothed, he’ll find a way to make you lose your composure. He steps in close, his large hands resting on your waist, pulling you just enough that his hips press against yours.
That’s when you feel it—the unmistakable hardness straining against his pants, pressing firmly into you. His voice drops, low and dripping with desire, as he leans into your ear and whispers, “Feel that, baby? That’s what you do to me. You’ve got me all worked up, and I don't think I can wait any much longer."
The heat of his breath against your ear sends a shiver through you, and his bulge pressing into you makes it impossible to think straight. His grip tightens slightly, and the smirk playing on his lips tells you he’s enjoying every second of your reaction. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he loves driving you wild, even when you’re supposed to be keeping things composed.
— He's the kind of guy who leaves his mark on you, a silent declaration that you're his and his alone
— He's the kind of guy who would pin you against the wall, bite your lip, and pull your hair—taking control in a way that leaves you breathles.
—He’s the kind of guy who’ll leave you completely undone, your body trembling as you take every inch of his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks while you beg for mercy. But he doesn’t stop—he thrives on the way you break beneath him, his voice dripping with a wicked mix of praise and degradation.
“You're being such an obedient little cum slut,” his hand tilting your chin so you have no choice but to meet his gaze. “Taking me so well like a fucking whore, like you were made for my cock. My perfect little bitch.” he said, his tone low and velvety, sending shivers down your spine as he continued to fuck his cock in and out of you. Your walls clenching hard around his massive cock as he fills you up with his fat load, still pounding into your hole not letting even a single drop of his release go to waste. (He has a breeding kink)
And if that's not enough. His thick, veiny cock would plunge relentlessly into your dripping folds, the sound of wet flesh slapping against wet flesh filling the air. Each powerful thrust drives him deeper, his heavy balls smacking against your ass as he ravages your insides with unbridled lust while you're in a mating press. He is determined to make you the mother of his child, so he will pound your fertile womb over and over again until it's full of his cum. If his cum is seeping out of your pussy, he would pump it back with his fingers inside while he also plays with your swollen clit making you overstimulated as you beg him to stop. (he just fucking loves you crying and begging for him and only him. )
— Hes the kind of guy who craves more than just conception; he yearns to enslave your senses, to make your body crave the feeling of being utterly filled by him. He wants ypu to beg for his cock, to plead for the intense pleasure-pain of being stuffed to overflowing, regardless of your reproductive cycle.
The very thought of you, round and ripe with his seed, brings him unparalleled satisfaction. He delights in the idea of your addiction to his cum, to the exquisite bliss of having your cunt packed to capacity with his thick, hot essence. For him, there is no greater joy than knowing you're forever changed, forever his, your body and soul irreversibly marked by his possession.
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
anoosbeauty · 1 year ago
Text
0 notes
aaptrainingmiamiflo · 1 year ago
Text
Botox Unveiled: Your Path to Certification, Training, and Aesthetic Enhancements
Tumblr media
Botox treatments have surged in popularity as an effective way to turn back the clock on aging skin. If you're contemplating a career as a Botox injector or seeking these services in the sunshine state of Florida, it's essential to demystify the process, prerequisites, and the world of aesthetic enhancements.
Navigating the Route to Becoming a Botox Injector
For those intrigued by the art of Botox injections, here's a comprehensive roadmap to becoming a certified Botox injector:
Educational Foundation: Lay the groundwork with a background in a healthcare-related field. This could entail being a registered nurse, nurse practitioner, physician assistant, or holding a similar healthcare qualification.
Enroll in Accredited Training: Opt for a trusted Botox training program. Ensure it encompasses vital aspects such as facial anatomy, injection techniques, and stringent safety protocols.
Hands-On Experience: Sharpen your skills under the watchful eye of a licensed expert. This could be accomplished through clinical training or a mentorship program.
Certification Achievement: Scale the final hurdle by acing essential examinations and securing certification from a recognized governing body.
Who Holds the Power to Administer Botox in Florida?
In the sunny state of Florida, Botox injections can only be administered by licensed medical professionals. These include:
Physicians
Nurse Practitioners
Physician Assistants
Always ensure that the practitioner performing your Botox procedure is duly licensed and carries substantial experience.
Dermal Filler Training: A Gateway for Non-Medical Enthusiasts
Non-medical enthusiasts keen on participating in the aesthetic world can explore training in dermal fillers. This avenue is open to individuals like aestheticians or cosmetologists, but remember that the specific regulations can vary by state. For those in Florida, it's imperative to research the precise requirements.
Embarking on Your Botox Journey in Florida
In Florida, gaining the legal green light to administer Botox hinges on obtaining certification from a respected training program. This certification serves as tangible proof of your education and competency to safely and effectively deliver Botox injections.
Your Gateway to Botox Expertise: Training in the Sunshine State
Florida offers a smorgasbord of reputable Botox training programs. These comprehensive courses encompass everything from the fundamentals of facial anatomy to the intricacies of advanced injection techniques. When choosing a program, prioritize accreditation and instructors with extensive hands-on experience.
Beyond Botox: Exploring Aesthetic Services
Apart from Botox, a treasure trove of aesthetic services exists to elevate your appearance. These may include:
Dermal fillers
Chemical peels
Microdermabrasion
Laser treatments
Prior to any procedure, it's paramount to consult with a licensed practitioner to craft a tailored treatment plan to meet your unique needs.
Conclusion:
Embarking on a career as a certified Botox injector in Florida necessitates a structured journey that includes education, training, and official certification. Navigating the legal requirements and selecting a reputable training program are paramount. Furthermore, delving into the world of aesthetic enhancements can offer you a multitude of options to enhance your appearance and boost your self-confidence. Contact our qualified professional before embarking on any aesthetic journey. Armed with the right knowledge and guidance, you can unlock the secrets to a more refreshed and youthful you.
1 note · View note
vifilms · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
KNUCKLE VELVET, TORN ON MY TEETH
❝ VI!ONE SHOT ❞
Tumblr media
pairing. pitfighter!vi x bartender!reader
warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: arcane season two spoilers, soft angst, smut, bartender!reader, crashout!vi mends her cold heart, inexperienced!vi, switch!reader + vi, fem coded reader, coded alcohol addiction, slight spit kink, strap use.
KNUCKLE VELVET TORN ON MY TEETH, there's something charming about the pitfighter who doesn't stop drinking until she reaches the bottom of the barrel and the bartender who keeps walking her home.
wc. 7k+
rayray yaps. popping my vi!oneshot cherry, hehe, and i'm happy to do so. the vi brainrot has been real as fuck lately. i fear it's not going away anytime soon. but i wanted to give a special shoutout to @hypnagogics for proofreading this fic, means sm to me ily + my sweet bubba, @absfawn for the title name, i could kiss you until my lips fall off. the best people ever, i love them so much. okay, now i have yapped enough! happy reading, hope you enjoy.
Tumblr media
Trapped in the abyss, just when everything had been taken from her life seems to sacrifice another offering on a silver platter. Something else that she thought could be hers, but wasn’t. In the end, all of it was the same. Life is the same. She takes three steps forward, circumstances out of her control take her apart like enforcers imposing their will on Zaun, and she’s forced to move five steps back. It’s all she feels, powerless. 
Wanting nothing more than to drown her sorrows, forget all that she's lost. For everything that’s been taken, Vi feels an overpowering loss, threatening to take over everything she’s trying to build. But Vi thinks of none of it now, she can’t afford to think of one more thing. So, she doesn’t. All of her mind forgets. She forces herself to. 
Zaun, Piltover, Jinx, Vander, Silco, and Cait. 
She drowns in blood, sweat, and liquor for nights to come. She forgets everything and you are just the cherry top on this one shitty sundae. Anytime she’s here, Vi manages to get herself into a fight. Each time. Every time she tries to apologize or hold an ounce of guilt in her eyes, you see right through her crystal blues. From the very first night, you called her bullshit. Even if Vi didn’t give in, it was hard to hide her small smirk. 
She lets herself think it’s because you’re a bartender. You practically get paid to read people, listen to them vent about shit you probably don’t give two shits about and break up the fights that erupt every thirty minutes. Overinflated egos and drunken assholes weren’t a great mix. The jury was still out if you though Vi was one. She could have both, she didn’t really talk much. Vi fought, drank until she couldn’t see straight, and you helped her up to her small apartment right across the street and up the steps into her said apartment. 
No matter how hard she tries, it always ends the same. Vi looking like an imbecile and you, the pretty bartender who shuts down every advance she throws your way. Vi wonders who had a stronger shell, what you’re hiding in order to protect yourself. 
Maybe she is just an asshole. 
“You don’t have to walk me up here. I-I can make it just fine on my own.” 
As soon as your fingertips let go of her fragile frame, Vi’s inebriated body collapses on the concrete steps, grabbing onto the metal framing as if her life depends on it. 
“Really? Now you wanna prove a point?” 
“For your information, I’m always in it to prove a point.” 
Even if your words are harsh, with a soft smile and a hand open, Vi takes it as you let her lean on your weight as you assist her up the steps. There’s little shame to be had once the two of you make it in. It isn’t like the first time and when she noticed the scrunch of your nose in taking the smell, tequila and grease. Vi thought it was cute but she halts any further thought. 
Quickly, Vi disposed of her leather jacket and pants she’s left in boxers and the wrap protecting her chest. The part of her life that seems to be kept together. She doesn’t really mind it though, you. Seeing her like this. Even more so, she enjoys it. You’re always so dismissive at the bar, hardly holding eye contact, turning down any flirting she hurls your way. Just like the vomit Vi had nearly thrown up on your shoes but made a quick diversion for the bush to the right of her instead. 
This is truly the only time she knows you want her. Not so subtly, your eyes trace her like each pinpoint of your gaze is painting her on a clean canvas, one Vi wonders if she’ll like or not. When she’s been around you, she’s been wondering about a lot of things — thoughts she quite literally can’t afford. 
It’s her, nothing ever ends well when her feelings can get crushed on the other side. 
Everything she touches burns to ash before she can even hold it for a moment, a second of symphony retaliates with years of misery. How could you be any different? She wishes you would burn her underneath your gaze, put her out of the misery she feels growing every day, but you don’t. You’re always pulling her out of trouble when you truly don’t have to. It’s not your job to take care of her or hell, even look after her. 
But you do and she can’t seem to figure out why. 
“Why are you doing this?” 
“Just shut the fuck up and let me help you. Not everyone has a motive. Some people just like to help when someone is so clearly struggling.” 
“I’m not—” 
You give her a glare that seems to shut her up. You draw a bath for her. It’s easy to find her towels in the only cabinet. It’s an acute studio apartment. More so of a small room with a stove stop, minimal counter space, and one bathroom enough to bathe and brush her teeth in. There isn’t much left of it but it’s hers. Grabbing the first aid kit, you kneel between her legs, the mattress sits on the floor, her legs spread and stretching out in front of you. 
“Let me help you. Alright?” Vi grumbles, a incoherent complaint, but she lets you tend to her wounds. 
It’s mainly just cleaning off her dry blood as she still complains in the process, but there’s a few cuts on her face and her cheeks are already beginning to bruise. It’s not a secret, she bruises like a peach but she always makes sure her opponent is leaving a lot more with just a few cuts and a bruise the size of a plum. 
It’s then, when you’re concentrating on the cuts on her face, the busted lip she’s sporting; she looks at you. Maybe it’s the first time she has, but without even realizing it, she gets lost. Not in the way Vi doesn’t know who she is, that she’s completely lost on, but Vi sees you. 
Bright-eyed, optimistic, helpful, kind — all attributes she couldn’t claim but wears like a badge of honor. As if helping others instills you with a sense of purpose, something that’s always been a lost cause to her. Fight until the next fight, and the next, and the next. That’s what she’s done, she's always been a fighter. She’s fallen back on it when needed. It’s clear to her. Like a vision she could see, crystal clear through some stupid ball, it’s always been about survival. 
But how much longer does she want to fight and how much more does she have in her? 
“Thanks.” Vi speaks softly. 
Not knowing where to place her palms, she settles for her thigh. Silent as she watches, nearly analyzing every moment, every glance, every little thing you’re doing. It’s sobering to say the least. You don’t need to be delicate but you are. It’s more kindness than she deserves, nearly leaving a bitter taste on her tongue but when you offer a small smile and a soft whisper, you’re welcome. 
It’s the sweetest thing Vi has ever seen. 
There’s something different in the way you look at her. The soft omission exposes how sweet on Vi you may be. Definitely more than you’d let on, which was well…none. Up until tonight, she thought you hated her. With each word uttered in your direction, Vi assumed you’d rather swallow bile than stomach her slurred, flirty speech. 
“Why do you want to help? It’s not like I’ve exactly been—” 
“Kind?” 
“Yeah, something like that.” 
This time Vi lets the smile reach her eyes and your smile gets even sweeter. She can practically feel the sweetness rotting her teeth as she speaks. It’s the first time she feels something new, something as bright as the light radiating through your eyes. 
“You just seem different. Even if you do try to hide it.” 
With a flush of crimson coating the apple of her cheeks, she’s never been quite as exposed as this. The next few weeks are spent with less drinking, but Vi frequents the bar just as much as she did before. She orders a few pints just to talk to you. She’s learning more about you, slowly but surely, you’re opening up more. Divulging information you wouldn’t have before, trust is earned. It’s something you told her the first night you met and to this day, Vi still remembers it. 
Regardless of how drunk she’d been when you said it. 
It’s a typical night. Vi flirted with you but you aren’t being dismissive tonight but you’re careful enough to not let her know exactly how you feel. Everything you say is guarded enough you keep her on her toes, for a moment she thinks she might have to become a ballerina. It’s a slow night, Wednesday. Go figure Vi thinks. There was a woman who’d also been flirting with you all night. Vi thought she was beautiful, sweet, funny…certainly was making you laugh all night. 
Part of Vi wanted to feel jealous but it feels too good hearing you laugh, she says nothing. Maybe you just don’t like women. Vi was known for reading into things too much, thinking everyone thought with their heart first just like she did, and assuming every hot and attractive woman was into other women — just like she is. 
But the brunette left before closing, leaving Vi and a few other regulars paying their tab as they stumbled home with a belly full of liquor of their choosing. 
“Alright Vi, don’t you have somewhere to be? Maybe getting some sleep for the night?” 
“I don’t sleep much, it’s better if I don’t.” 
“Keeps the nightmares away.” 
All Vi does is nod. 
“Story of the century.” You take Vi’s empty pint before washing it dispersing in the sink before cleaning up the remainder of the bar top. “Everyone’s got one around here and the new one is usually even more depressing than the last.” 
“What about yours?” 
“If you wanna hear that, I’ll have to be the one doing the drinking.” You smile but it’s the first one Vi recognizes as insincere. 
“Yeah, seems to be the stone cold requirement for a heart to heart.” 
Vi’s silent as you vent to her about the customer who refused to pay up tonight until you threatened to kick his ass and that wasn't enough, you threatened Letty on him. Vi found herself only slightly entranced as you spoke with such color, your animated voice doing impressions of the stubborn patreon, moving your hands as you speak, eyebrows furrowed as you finished the story. 
You’re done cleaning and are ready to close by the time you finish, locking the door as Vi stuffs her hands in her pockets, “Can I ask you something?” 
You cling to your bag like a lifeline. Vi notices how tight your grip is on the strap, almost as if you’re afraid. Of what? She has a craving to find out. “Why’d you turn her away? She seemed plenty interested. Not your type?” 
You take a step forward, just as close as the last time you were in her apartment, tending to wounds she wouldn’t have really cared about but still she let you clean them. 
You didn’t have to know that. Not yet, anyway. 
“No, not really. I like my women a little rough around the edges, stumbling out of bars so wasted they can’t even walk home by themselves.” You smirk, grabbing the lapel of her leather jacket as you tug her closer to you. “Or is that what you want me to say?” 
“Is it true?” 
You both know the hope in her eyes is dangerous. 
Hope. 
A foreign concept in Zaun. If you get too close to the flame, you’ll get burned, dusting into ash as if you never existed. It’s what shimmer did to people, wipe them off the map until they reformed into a shell of what they used to be. You didn’t just get out of a place like this, not without some help. Vi could barely even help herself. 
The both of you know it’s a bad idea. A terrible, god awful idea, but you still move in closer to her. Vi notices and she wipes the smirk off her face, your warm hands finding purchase on her exposed hips, drawing soft circles on her hip bones. She likes it, even when her heart feels torn from being blown to bits by a certain blue-eyed beauty. 
Vi likes you. 
“Your skin is softer than I thought it would be, smooth like pure silk. Not that I’ve ever touched it before but I’ve got to believe it would feel a lot like this.” 
Vi feels a tingle up her spin, your touch is overwhelming, more than she bargained for really. A stumbling, messy kiss is all she really expected if anything. Not this. Clearly, you knew what to do. Leaving Vi a little clueless in that department, she’s knocked off her feet once again but this time in a way she wants to be. But actually bringing something this special to anything more than a few flirty quips? It never seems to be her strong suit. 
So, she puts her best foot forward. Her big stupid mouth, one she can never quite fully silence. “I can guarantee my lips feel a lot softer.” 
“Vi—” You speak her name like a warning, an unspoken law you’re breaking by entertaining your feelings and the bubbling sentiments you hold for her close to your heart. You know better than to keep it so close, but the halo in her eyes blinds you to reason and you let it. 
“It’s Violet but you can call me whatever you want, sweets.” 
You chuckle at the pet name. 
“Just one night. That’s it. Just to get it out of our system.” 
“One night, sweets. It’s all I need.” 
— 
It’s how you ended up here, the third night in a row since the first, trapped under the web of Vi and her eager mouth. Slender, perfectly sculpted fingers feel like a hex to your cunt, every moment causing you to fall further into her spell. To say she has a certain talent would be considered an understatement. It’s clear Vi’s enjoying herself, fuck, damn near suffocates herself in your weeping cunt. Last night wasn’t nearly enough, she needs to have you, again. Not that you were complaining. 
As much as you hate to admit it, there has been no one as generous as her. As good as her, as sweet, as kind, and she did whatever the hell you asked for. Nothing has beaten the first night, her thumping clit nudging against your as she hiked one of your legs over her toned shoulders. 
It’s not a secret how built she is, far from it, but it’s another thing entirely to watch her flexed bicep ripple with every grind of her hips. Each movement seems to be calculated with precision, focused on doing more than just making herself feel good. With pure determination, glazed over crystal blue eyes, and a pouty scarred lip, she makes sure you’re enjoying this as much as her. With each moan you let slip, her confidence only grows until she’s commanded full control over you. She takes what she wants from you and in return you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, constellations created in the shape of her name as you come. 
“That’s it pretty girl, just for me, yeah?” Vi talks you through  as she works you through your orgasm with her strong hips, not stopping even after you’ve cum. She wants more and Vi pulls three more orgasms out of you before she’s done for the night. You expected her to be good. There was no shocker there but you didn’t expect her to be so sweet afterwards. Vi is a drunk, an addict, whether she wants to accept it or not. You could be just another object she’s addicted to. Somehow, you convince yourself it’s just a one time thing. It doesn’t mean anything, it won’t. 
Truthfully it feels much more than just a one night stand, more than an itch being scratched — the blossoming ache in your soul feels tethered to your heart every time Vi makes you feel an ounce of love — even when she tries to hide it behind a wall. Whether you’re aware, the wall can’t seem to stop crumbling. Brick by brick, it’s coming undone just as you have. Weak-willed and with purpose, you fall into her. 
There isn’t an inch of your body Vi didn’t kiss. Her lips tattooing every inch of your skin with marked affection, almost as if she’s mending your skin with the burn of her lips. When she claims your soft lips, haunting you with the salvation of perfection as her velvet tongue invades your mouth, the taste of you melting from her tongue to yours. The silent declaration you didn’t ask for but craved, the carnal moan leaving her mouth as she chuckles when your hips pathetically grind into hers. 
Vi enjoys your company, that much is clear, but this time you bring her to your place. It’s more or less the same. Both of you coming down from the highest of highs, you feel sticky, dirty, and damn right heavenly. Vi disappears into your bathroom, grabbing a wash rag before dampening the material underneath a warm faucet. Carefully, she kneels by your hips, legs twitching softly as her skilled fingers find your slit before Vi’s sucking the digit in your mouth. 
“I just wanted one last taste before I clean you up.” 
As she has before, Vi makes good on her promise and cleans you up. She enjoys when the pad of her thumb grazes against your clit, terribly overstimulated, your stomach twitches. All Vi can do is chuckle. 
“I’m just a little—” 
“Sensitive?” Vi smirks as you hide your face in the palm of her hands, the pad of her thumb gently caressing your skin.  
It’s the lightest she’s felt in weeks. Almost as if she’s floating on a cloud, she wants to stay up there in the cloudiest of nines. Just you and her and an aging mattress as she offers you everything she can give. Albeit, it isn’t much but she’ll still freely give. 
Like a dog with a bone, Vi corners you on the third night when it’s just you and her in the bar. Closing time has long since arrived and vanished into the crisp air of the night but Vi has you bent over the bar, desperation clawing at the weathered countertop of the bar as Vi’s fingers fucks your pretty little hole while her tongue laps at the slick that’s dripping out of you. Your pretty little skirt pushed up, your panties pushed to the side as she laps and sucks at your juices. She can feel you dripping onto her chin and it only makes her that much more eager to swallow every bit you have to offer. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this—” Fuck. Vi starts doing tricks with her tongue, sliding in another finger, pushing against the soft spot buried deep as she toys with you in the way knows best. “We, um, Vi we said just one night.” 
“Shut the fuck up and take it like a good girl. Or did you forget?” Vi moans into your cunt, the vibrations causing your thighs to shake under her mouth. “It’s not like you were complaining last night.” 
Vi silences you as her pace picks up, her fingers fucking you at such a pretty pace, feeling the build grow in the pit of your stomach edging to come to a full bloom. 
All of you begging for it to be released. Vi uses her free hand to slap your ass, sending you moaning and lurching forward. You push yourself back grinding against her tongue, before she removes her divine mouth as she kisses up your spine, her fingers stuffed inside you not faltering for a moment. 
Vi continues to kiss up your spine until she reaches the nape of your neck, her breath kissing your skin, your body shivers into her touch. Full lips ghost over your ear before whispering quietly, “Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you want me to. I just thought you might wanna, you know, take my cock tonight. Give it a good ride.” 
The moan you let out would put Aphrodite’s to shame, needy and choked sobs escape you as her fingers thrust inside you faster than they have before. 
“Oh? Do you like the sound of that, babygirl? Want to show me how good you can be for me?” Vi doubled down on her efforts, enjoying how much you arched into her body, your hips pushing back as you grind into quick fingers. She’s fucking you better than well…anyone. 
“Vi, please.” Your voice catches in your throat, hoarse and full of need. An insatiable craving; one you fear only she can provide. A few mindless days and careless flirting to land in her sheets, her in yours, the details didn’t truly matter. A vampire out for blood, almost more venomous than precious canines breaking the skin, you yearned to suck on every last drop. But she didn’t seem to be in a mind frame to relinquish control. 
“Please what? I’m not sure if I understand you.” 
All of it, so tantalizing, so fucking infuriating. Three fingers inside you, effectively making you silent, shutting you up as she brings you closer to the edge. That’s the thing, truthfully, Vi has you right where she wants. Only a few thrusts away until you come undone around her. The black haired succubus increases the pace, thumb playing with your clit, her calloused fingers increasing your high as she applies more pressure on the thousands of nerve endings on your precious pearl. 
“Shit. You’re gonna pay for this.” 
“What? For making you come? I hardly constitute that as a crime.” 
Your hands reach for the counter top, you’re not sure what exactly you want, but Vi makes you come for the first time that night. It’s a game, the push and pull. Dangerous. Intoxicating. Some disposition falling far from your fingertips, a game to her and a downward hill spiral for you. Addiction festering next to an open wound and the only antidote can be found on her tongue. Tasting the devil’s mouth is one thing but swallowing the sensation of the woman you’re beginning to love is something else entirely. 
Vi, despite her best efforts not to, makes you fall over the edge. It’s more than her eager tongue and expectant mouth slurping at the vindication of your taste. The craving builds like an exposed vein. Her confidence irrevocably soars like a raven through the midnight sky. Even if Vi acts like she’s done this before, you could pull the curiosity intertwined with naivety a mile away. Violet has never done this before, not with a woman at least, you’re sure of it. She’s a fast learner and such a great accomplishment should replenish such a reward. 
With the energy you have left, you push your skirt down first, as Vi puts your underwear back in place. She doesn’t stop touching you. She can’t. There isn’t much she feels she has control over, this arrangement being one of them. She’s good at this and Vi enjoys it. Every other part of her life, failure surrounds her, her ability not to please anyone in her life. 
In a constant loop, she finds herself caught in the crossfire. Tugged between sister and lover, family and righteousness. Her enemy becomes her lover and lover becomes enemy — all of it poisons her blood and cures her core — and all of it makes her hear a voice she doesn’t recognize but it’s just as true as the four walls surrounding her. 
Oil and water. 
Collecting like scars on her porcelain skin, Vi feels herself sink like an obliterating star. There’s a wonder settled in her chest, it feels heavy and weak, two incapable fists unable to surround her heart with anything but loss, betrayal even. She can’t punch her way out of this one.
All of it wakes a fire in her chest, a dagger being punctured in her heart by the one Vi thought she could trust the most. She doesn’t want to admit it so she doesn’t. 
But this? It feels easy. 
She needs easy, light, even good. Maybe she doesn’t deserve it. 
Vi definitely doesn’t, the sentence flows like a never-ending stream of waterfall continuously drowning her. The blood on her hands stains her perception of all things pure, she wonders how she even sees you at all. How you see her more vividly than anyone, possibly even Cait. There’s no judgment, no snarky remark of where she comes from. Even if she thought there had once been love, Vi questions it now. 
When you come, it feels like a breath of fresh air, a golden wave washing over her sinful hands. Each stroke of gold, your grit and blind hopefulness soaks Vi’s entity. This is what she wants. There’s nothing more than this, someone she could love, who loves her. It’s uncomplicated but the feeling flees as you come to it. Vi can’t help but feel regretful as you cover your ass, it’s such a pretty sight. She can’t stop that she’s greedy, you’ve fed her for the first time in her life and now Vi feels full but she’s only human. 
A sinner always craves more. 
She lets her touch linger on the gold between your thighs, pushing the white substance back into you before Vi lets you feel how wet you are, the dripping slick feels uncomfortable caged into cotton underwear and she wants you to feel it. The breath Vi hears are still heavy, impossibly heavy, and there’s pride in hearing you center yourself, back pressed against her chest as Vi keeps you in place. 
The pleasure within your body begins to slither away as you come back into the angel you are and not the sexual deviant bent over the woman who never pulls her punches. 
“Felt good, yeah?” Vi says. Her angelic, sweeter than the cotton candy stick in your teeth, voice penetrates through. You like it too much. It shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does. Desperately, you want to keep this casual but you’re even losing your footing. 
You pride yourself on the lack of attachment; you don’t need it. Never really had. But then with her it seems to change even faster than the seasons, your wall breaks somehow in between from spring to summer. With intent, you move around, her bright eyes have darken a bit but the fading light looks brighter than you’ve ever seen it. 
Fuck, Vi is making this difficult. 
“You could say that.” You speak softly, a tremble in your voice occurs but Vi says nothing but she does smirk. “Can I ask you something?” 
You turn around and suddenly Vi is staring at your exposed cleavage, the one you use to draw in patreons and to fill your pockets with as many tips as one can muster. Vi had been one, a faithful one trying to drink her away to the bottom of every bottle until she found something else for her. Something that didn’t leave a burn in her throat. 
“What is it?” 
“Was it your first time? The first night?” 
Sheepishly, Vi blushes. For a second, she contemplates lying but you’d see right through it. Right through her. It would only take one look in her blues and you would know. 
“That obvious?” Vi struggles with her words next but she manages to murmur a lame excuse. “Stillwater didn’t leave much time for this.” 
“And after?” You tease but the sincerity in your eyes soothes her. 
“There could have been but there wasn’t. Some things just don’t fit.” Oil and water is what she wants to say but she bites her tongue. 
“You should have told me. I wouldn’t have been so, I don’t know, selfish?” 
“There’s nothing selfish about it. I wanted to make you feel good. Did you enjoy yourself?” This time she makes your skin feel hot. Fuck. 
“Yeah, I did enjoy myself,” you pressed against her as your arms loop around Vi’s necks to bring her closer “but I think it’s officially my turn to offer my services. Don’t you think so?” 
It’s how Vi ends up here, in your place, in your bed — soaked. 
If there was one thing you knew, it was how to please someone. You managed to pull whimpers out of her she didn’t even know existed. The desperate plea coming from her shivering body as she spilled in your mouth the first time sent a shiver down her spine, the band in her stomach snapping as you sloppily spit on her cunt, constant circles of pressure on her clit seeing nothing but your eyes look up at her. 
Not letting a single drop go to waste, you fucked Vi through it, swallowing her completely. Vi shed the wrap covering her chest next. Her body bruised from the pit fights but you couldn’t think of anyone more beautiful than her. You paid attention to her collarbones, neck, and her tits. Sucking on her nipples as Vi tries to come down from the high you placed her on, she doesn’t think she ever will. 
She tries not to think that she wanted these things with Caitlyn. Cait. Cupcake. 
Vi only allows herself to think of her when she’s dreaming, visions of what that could have been, what she used to be. All of it so trivial, so senseless when she thinks of you. How you make her feel is different and she tries not to think of what it all means. 
One night. 
Then two. 
Now three. 
In another life, maybe she was stronger, and didn't need to be wanted. Hell, even needed. She could wait for someone who she thought loves her but the other part of her doesn’t want to think, she wants to feel. Vi likes feeling the softness of your skin, the light in your laughter, the swell of your exposed chest, the way your greedy eyes take in her abs, your soft lips kissing every part of her skin. The smooth, the scarred, the unworthy — you take it all in such stride. 
“Do you want to stop? I think I lost you for a second.” You inquire to the pretty girl beneath you, her hands find your waist, creating makeshift circles on your hip bones. 
“No, that’s the last thing I want.” Vi brings you to her lips, capturing your bottom lip, tongue invading your mouth. She tastes herself as your tongue melts with hers and the rest of her worries melt away. It’s just you and her. “I want to keep going.” 
“Then tell me what you want, baby. I’ll do whatever you want. It’s yours if you want it.” 
It’s spoken as a reminder. All of this is her decision. Vi decides when she wants this, how she wants it, and you’re letting her take all of it in the way she needs. Vi tried not to think the first couple times, she never wanted her first time to be a big deal. Maybe with Caitlyn it could have been, but then she changed. 
Vi thought maybe she could too. So, she did. 
“Can you—” Vi stutters. Yet again her attention gets pulled to your tits, the softness of your stomach, she can’t stop looking at you. As if she’s trying to remember everything about you. She’s committed to it. Vi wants to remember the soft curves of your hips, the way you moan when she comes on your tongue. 
The sight of you looking down at her makes she lose every rational thought, she wants to commit to memory forever. It won’t be something she easily forgets. 
“Gotta speak up, babygirl. Especially if you want me to keep my attention focused on this pretty cunt of yours.” 
You sit between her legs, tilting your head, you look at her glistening pussy, the way it shines with her cum and your sloppy spit. It would look even more exquisite with a little more. Taking a beat as you take your time, you gather enough in your mouth before spitting slowly, Vi whimpering as your spit makes contact with her lower pair of lips. She couldn’t stop it, it slips and you’re grinning, hips desperately bucking to feel more of it. 
“F-Fuck, need your cock. Please? I need it more than anything.” Vi confesses. There’s no need for dignity, especially if she keeps it and you won’t give her what she’s itching for. 
“Yeah? Are you sure about it? Don’t want you backing out just in case you can’t be a good girl and take it.” 
She can take it but she can’t take the countless teasing, trapped underneath the images drowning in her mind. This is what she wants, someone to dissolve into her, make her forget everything that has happened, just a pretty girl with some pretty tits who knows how to fuck. Right? That’s all this is. It’s all it can be tonight. Her lip is busted from the fight tonight, knuckles bloodied and bruised, but you don’t seem to mind all that much. It’s all the same to you. Vi is all the same, that’s been clear from the start. 
Then, she decides to let her mind get shut off, let herself fall into you. You did know how to take care of her and tonight she would let you. 
“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” 
“I promise.” 
Once the harness is on, you wedge yourself in between her thighs, tattooed and toned, brave and brawny but she transforms into someone else entirely once you’re sinking inside her warm walls. You think about what it would feel like to feel her. Is she clenching around your cock? Would you feel the throbbing heartbreak of her clit? What you can hear is the whimper, uncontrollable and breathtaking, you slip further into her as you make home in her beautiful cunt. 
She’s made it yours to take. You’d do anything and everything for her, the thought alone scares so you do what you do best, you grind your hips slowly. Not wanting to overwhelm her too quickly, it’s the first time she’s taking penetration and you want it to be good for her. 
“You’re so perfect. Doing so good for me, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” You whisper out, taking too much enjoyment in her getting lost in your soft thrusts. Vi’s chest starts to heave as her hips roll into yours. Vi never even imagined wanting this, or that she could really have it with someone else. It’s not like she’s experienced, she has nothing to compare it to, but it feels incredibly intimate. 
She likes how you’re being with her. Soft, gentle, delicate. Vi thought she’d never want to feel that way, but maybe it’s just under the right circumstance in the right light. 
“Shit, shit, shit” Vi chants as your hand grabs the headboard, giving her one particular powerful thrust. Perky tits spring to life, jolting against the sudden movement, her moan so fucking load, as you continue your movements. This time not as hard, but you pick up your pace, wanting to see if she would have any arguments against it but Vi doesn’t. Profanities and whimpers leave her mouth as you split her on your cock. Face half-smashed into the pillow, trying to muffle her moans and you offer this one mercy. 
She’s still shy. 
Now is a good time as any to fuck it out of her. 
“Do you want more Vi? Want me to go…faster?” Placing a hand on her abdomen, the abs defined and clenching as you halt your thrust for a moment. “Do you wanna feel me in your stomach, baby?” 
“Can you even do that? I’m not so sure you’re even capable. Looks like the rookie knows more moves than the veteran.” Vi bites back. But it doesn’t last for long. Vi thinks she must have said the wrong thing, pushed you too far, you slipped off her but only to move her body to the edge of the bed, placing her on all fours right in front of a very convenient mirror. 
“Fine. Thought I’d be sweet but that isn’t what you really want. If you want to get treated like a whore, I’ll fuck you like one.” You take a beat to appreciate her wonderfully sculpted back, the artwork is truly exquisite. It feels so much like her but the foolish girl is smirking at you through the mirror. 
You know you’ve been caught ogling at her body, checking out every inch of her exposed body, you slap her ass in retaliation but she just grinds her ass back onto you. 
“I’m waiting.” Teasingly, Vi arches her spine more. “Where’s the whore fucking you’re muling about?” 
In one move, you’re inside her, fucking her beautiful face into the mattress. Never in her life has she felt so full, so good, so sweet. You grab her by the meat of her hips, bringing you back on her repeatedly. Vi wonders what she would give to have this, have you, and the thought scares her just as badly. She instead focused on you. 
Tits bouncing as you thrust into her at a punishing pace. Divinely and so perfectly you, making her see stars, she feels trapped. Not in a punishing way, but in a way that has her never wanting to leave the entrapments of your coaxing cock. At this moment, this is where she’s meant to be, just a toy for you to use. 
But it’s more than what meets the eye. If Vi was just a toy, you’d be done after the first night. Tonight, you weren’t using her for your own pleasure. You seemed perfectly content to give. The shine in her eyes gave you something only she could, edging you even further, a constant wave hitting Vi like a tidal wave making home on the shore. 
“God, you’re just too perfect. Fuck, just like that, take what’s yours.” Bouncing back on the strap, the words fall from her lips before she can’t stop them. Overflowing like a water fountain, it’s before she really even realizes what she’s saying, it just feels right. 
“Mommy, please.” 
Vi has had those words on the tip of her tongue but not that you’re fucking her into a different dimension, she lets the aching plea slip from sinful lips. It’s only once but it’s enough to set you off. You pull Vi up, her gorgeous back pressed against your chest, sitting on your thighs as you fuck up into her. Brutally, she takes everything you have to give. 
Sweat glistening across her body, accentuating her chest as she tries to compose herself  but you don’t give her the option. No. It would be too easy, wouldn’t it?
“I want you to watch, Violet. Watch yourself when you cum, be a good girl and show me how pretty you look, hm? Wouldn’t wanna disappoint, Mommy, now would you?” 
Vi sucks on your middle digit, tongues swirling as she feels the tight band in her stomach, threatening to snap. She’s close. When the sensationally soft pad of your thumb applies pressure on her clit, Vi’s done for. 
“Shit, oh my fucking god, baby baby babbyyyyy.” Incoherent murmurs and moans come in abundance as Vi bounces herself your cock, falling right apart as you toy with her clit, fucking her through the impending high. Your other arm tweaks around and up, fingers squeezing her tits, over stimulating her as she slumps against you. 
It’s the easiest task ever done. Submit to you, your skilled fingers, the power of your sinfully sensational thrusts, she comes all over you. The powerful demeanor weakens before your very eyes. When you gently move her back on the bed, slipping out of her, Vi’s eyes begin to water from the loss. 
The first time getting strapped down is always a lot to handle, you’d still taken it easier on her, too afraid you would push her too far but by the blissed out eyes, she’d enjoyed herself. She had enjoyed herself and you couldn’t really ask for much more. 
When the both of you are cleaned up, Vi cuddles into your frame and you let her. Even if your first instinct is to push her away, saying something you know that’ll hurt her, none of it finds any merit on your tongue. For the first time, you find it difficult to turn away a pretty girl, her lips kissing your collarbones, up your neck until she finds home on your own lips, sloppily invading your mouth with your tongue. 
Hitting you where it hurts, she moans your name in her mouth, unable to contain the neediness she feels around you. It’s worse than Cait. This is pure addiction entangled with something carnal. Vi knows if she doesn’t get to fuck you again, you fucking her cunt again, she might as well give up on life now. 
“I could go again.” 
You chuckle. Of course she could. 
“Don’t know rookie, that might be all you can handle for the night.” 
It’s a challenge and you know she’ll bite the bait. 
With ease she gets on top of you, and just as if she’s done it a hundred times, Vi sinks on your cock, “I think I can handle another ride, don’t you?” 
2K notes · View notes
fatliberation · 1 year ago
Note
they have a point though. you wouldn't need everyone to accommodate you if you just lost weight, but you're too lazy to stick to a healthy diet and exercise. it's that simple. I'd like to see you back up your claims, but you have no proof. you have got to stop lying to yourselves and face the facts
Must I go through this again? Fine. FINE. You guys are working my nerves today. You want to talk about facing the facts? Let's face the fucking facts.
In 2022, the US market cap of the weight loss industry was $75 billion [1, 3]. In 2021, the global market cap of the weight loss industry was estimated at $224.27 billion [2]. 
In 2020, the market shrunk by about 25%, but rebounded and then some since then [1, 3] By 2030, the global weight loss industry is expected to be valued at $405.4 billion [2]. If diets really worked, this industry would fall overnight. 
1. LaRosa, J. March 10, 2022. "U.S. Weight Loss Market Shrinks by 25% in 2020 with Pandemic, but Rebounds in 2021." Market Research Blog. 2. Staff. February 09, 2023. "[Latest] Global Weight Loss and Weight Management Market Size/Share Worth." Facts and Factors Research. 3. LaRosa, J. March 27, 2023. "U.S. Weight Loss Market Partially Recovers from the Pandemic." Market Research Blog.
Over 50 years of research conclusively demonstrates that virtually everyone who intentionally loses weight by manipulating their eating and exercise habits will regain the weight they lost within 3-5 years. And 75% will actually regain more weight than they lost [4].
4. Mann, T., Tomiyama, A.J., Westling, E., Lew, A.M., Samuels, B., Chatman, J. (2007). "Medicare’s Search For Effective Obesity Treatments: Diets Are Not The Answer." The American Psychologist, 62, 220-233. U.S. National Library of Medicine, Apr. 2007.
The annual odds of a fat person attaining a so-called “normal” weight and maintaining that for 5 years is approximately 1 in 1000 [5].
5. Fildes, A., Charlton, J., Rudisill, C., Littlejohns, P., Prevost, A.T., & Gulliford, M.C. (2015). “Probability of an Obese Person Attaining Normal Body Weight: Cohort Study Using Electronic Health Records.” American Journal of Public Health, July 16, 2015: e1–e6.
Doctors became so desperate that they resorted to amputating parts of the digestive tract (bariatric surgery) in the hopes that it might finally result in long-term weight-loss. Except that doesn’t work either. [6] And it turns out it causes death [7],  addiction [8], malnutrition [9], and suicide [7].
6. Magro, Daniéla Oliviera, et al. “Long-Term Weight Regain after Gastric Bypass: A 5-Year Prospective Study - Obesity Surgery.” SpringerLink, 8 Apr. 2008. 7. Omalu, Bennet I, et al. “Death Rates and Causes of Death After Bariatric Surgery for Pennsylvania Residents, 1995 to 2004.” Jama Network, 1 Oct. 2007.  8. King, Wendy C., et al. “Prevalence of Alcohol Use Disorders Before and After Bariatric Surgery.” Jama Network, 20 June 2012.  9. Gletsu-Miller, Nana, and Breanne N. Wright. “Mineral Malnutrition Following Bariatric Surgery.” Advances In Nutrition: An International Review Journal, Sept. 2013.
Evidence suggests that repeatedly losing and gaining weight is linked to cardiovascular disease, stroke, diabetes and altered immune function [10].
10. Tomiyama, A Janet, et al. “Long‐term Effects of Dieting: Is Weight Loss Related to Health?” Social and Personality Psychology Compass, 6 July 2017.
Prescribed weight loss is the leading predictor of eating disorders [11].
11. Patton, GC, et al. “Onset of Adolescent Eating Disorders: Population Based Cohort Study over 3 Years.” BMJ (Clinical Research Ed.), 20 Mar. 1999.
The idea that “obesity” is unhealthy and can cause or exacerbate illnesses is a biased misrepresentation of the scientific literature that is informed more by bigotry than credible science [12]. 
12. Medvedyuk, Stella, et al. “Ideology, Obesity and the Social Determinants of Health: A Critical Analysis of the Obesity and Health Relationship” Taylor & Francis Online, 7 June 2017.
“Obesity” has no proven causative role in the onset of any chronic condition [13, 14] and its appearance may be a protective response to the onset of numerous chronic conditions generated from currently unknown causes [15, 16, 17, 18].
13. Kahn, BB, and JS Flier. “Obesity and Insulin Resistance.” The Journal of Clinical Investigation, Aug. 2000. 14. Cofield, Stacey S, et al. “Use of Causal Language in Observational Studies of Obesity and Nutrition.” Obesity Facts, 3 Dec. 2010.  15. Lavie, Carl J, et al. “Obesity and Cardiovascular Disease: Risk Factor, Paradox, and Impact of Weight Loss.” Journal of the American College of Cardiology, 26 May 2009.  16. Uretsky, Seth, et al. “Obesity Paradox in Patients with Hypertension and Coronary Artery Disease.” The American Journal of Medicine, Oct. 2007.  17. Mullen, John T, et al. “The Obesity Paradox: Body Mass Index and Outcomes in Patients Undergoing Nonbariatric General Surgery.” Annals of Surgery, July 2005. 18. Tseng, Chin-Hsiao. “Obesity Paradox: Differential Effects on Cancer and Noncancer Mortality in Patients with Type 2 Diabetes Mellitus.” Atherosclerosis, Jan. 2013.
Fatness was associated with only 1/3 the associated deaths that previous research estimated and being “overweight” conferred no increased risk at all, and may even be a protective factor against all-causes mortality relative to lower weight categories [19].
19. Flegal, Katherine M. “The Obesity Wars and the Education of a Researcher: A Personal Account.” Progress in Cardiovascular Diseases, 15 June 2021.
Studies have observed that about 30% of so-called “normal weight” people are “unhealthy” whereas about 50% of so-called “overweight” people are “healthy”. Thus, using the BMI as an indicator of health results in the misclassification of some 75 million people in the United States alone [20]. 
20. Rey-López, JP, et al. “The Prevalence of Metabolically Healthy Obesity: A Systematic Review and Critical Evaluation of the Definitions Used.” Obesity Reviews : An Official Journal of the International Association for the Study of Obesity, 15 Oct. 2014.
While epidemiologists use BMI to calculate national obesity rates (nearly 35% for adults and 18% for kids), the distinctions can be arbitrary. In 1998, the National Institutes of Health lowered the overweight threshold from 27.8 to 25—branding roughly 29 million Americans as fat overnight—to match international guidelines. But critics noted that those guidelines were drafted in part by the International Obesity Task Force, whose two principal funders were companies making weight loss drugs [21].
21. Butler, Kiera. “Why BMI Is a Big Fat Scam.” Mother Jones, 25 Aug. 2014. 
Body size is largely determined by genetics [22].
22. Wardle, J. Carnell, C. Haworth, R. Plomin. “Evidence for a strong genetic influence on childhood adiposity despite the force of the obesogenic environment” American Journal of Clinical Nutrition Vol. 87, No. 2, Pages 398-404, February 2008.
Healthy lifestyle habits are associated with a significant decrease in mortality regardless of baseline body mass index [23].  
23. Matheson, Eric M, et al. “Healthy Lifestyle Habits and Mortality in Overweight and Obese Individuals.” Journal of the American Board of Family Medicine : JABFM, U.S. National Library of Medicine, 25 Feb. 2012.
Weight stigma itself is deadly. Research shows that weight-based discrimination increases risk of death by 60% [24].
24. Sutin, Angela R., et al. “Weight Discrimination and Risk of Mortality .” Association for Psychological Science, 25 Sept. 2015.
Fat stigma in the medical establishment [25] and society at large arguably [26] kills more fat people than fat does [27, 28, 29].
25. Puhl, Rebecca, and Kelly D. Bronwell. “Bias, Discrimination, and Obesity.” Obesity Research, 6 Sept. 2012. 26. Engber, Daniel. “Glutton Intolerance: What If a War on Obesity Only Makes the Problem Worse?” Slate, 5 Oct. 2009.  27. Teachman, B. A., Gapinski, K. D., Brownell, K. D., Rawlins, M., & Jeyaram, S. (2003). Demonstrations of implicit anti-fat bias: The impact of providing causal information and evoking empathy. Health Psychology, 22(1), 68–78. 28. Chastain, Ragen. “So My Doctor Tried to Kill Me.” Dances With Fat, 15 Dec. 2009. 29. Sutin, Angelina R, Yannick Stephan, and Antonio Terraciano. “Weight Discrimination and Risk of Mortality.” Psychological Science, 26 Nov. 2015.
There's my "proof." Where is yours?
11K notes · View notes
ranjith11 · 1 year ago
Text
youtube
The 10 Best Yoga Poses Ever? | Akram Yoga & Personal Training
In Today's video, Personal Trainer & Yoga Teacher Zahir Akram shares with you his 10 favourite yoga poses ever.
0 notes
yuvaap · 5 months ago
Text
Natural Stress Relievers: Simple Ways to Find Calm
Tumblr media
Feeling stressed? Try natural ways to relax! Yoga, dance, strength training, and meditation can help you feel better. Discover these soothing practices with us. Start your wellness journey here.
1 note · View note