#natural contact lenses

[bellalense]

Top 5 Reasons to Consider Buying Natural Contact Lenses

Bella Lense is dedicated to offering cutting-edge natural contact lenses that put sustainability, comfort, and health first. Our goal is to completely transform the way people see vision correction, with an emphasis on environmentally friendly procedures and state-of-the-art technology. Please get in touch with Bella Lense for further details.

[freshtoneshop]

Natural Contact Lenses

Natural Contact Lenses are made to subtly and realistically adjust or improve the appearance of your eye color. These lenses are primarily used for aesthetic purposes since they let people keep the appearance of their eyes while achieving a more natural or enhanced look. Particularly when discussing colored contact lenses, these lenses often refer to lenses that seek to produce a natural appearance while used. They are made to flawlessly match the natural color of the eye, boosting or gently altering the wearer's eye color without seeming overly dramatic or artificial. They can be applied cosmetically to improve the appearance of the eyes, bring out their natural color, or offer unique effects for use in plays or costumes.

[princess-moira]

[ejunkiet]

Stick-in-the mud, glasses wearing, grade A student and teacher's pet David Shaw agenda okay

[jeffbiblesupremacy]

Jeff @ KonnecThai Eve

[bats-and-the-birds]

Situation where Clark has formed a tentative working relationship with Batman, but somewhere in that time, Batman acquired Robin and, naturally, didn't tell him.

Clark finds out about Robin's existence when a ten year old Dick Grayson in full Robin gear breaks into his apartment at two in the morning and shakes him awake because Batman's missing and Alfred's away and Bruce taught him that, in the case of emergency, Superman was one of the only people he could trust. Bruce just didn't think to tell Clark that he was, by all means, his son's emergency contact.

Clark: -wakes up to a small boy that he's never seen or heard of before in a cape and a mask with lenses that reflect light like a cat's perched on the edge of his bed in a pitch black room-

Dick, calmly: Hey, Batman's -- stop screaming -- Batman's missing. I need help.

[followlens]

Followlens Grey Eye Contact Lenses: Eyewear Elegance

Maintain your natural grey contact lenses to extend their lifespan. Followlens includes detailed cleaning, disinfecting, and storage instructions with each pair of lenses.

[today-i-am-thinking-about]

eyelashes

[rumplereids]

kiss, kiss, fall in love.

tags: spencer reid x reader. making out. clothed grinding. what glasses!spencer deserved. a/n: i love whenever the camera angle shows just how FUCKED mgg’s eyesight is lmfao there are some scenes of glasses!spencer where you can see how thick the lenses are… i love him requested?: yep ! thank u so much for the request <3 masterlist. requests are open !

Working as a Technical Analyst for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit had its pros and cons. Having your own office was definitely a huge perk. He was only supposed to drop off your daily bagel and coffee. It was an act of service that your beloved boyfriend liked to indulge in. He was only here to make sure you’d eaten breakfast.

Like a ritual, he leans over your shoulder, your cheek turned toward him like second nature, as he gives you a soft, shy kiss.

“Thank you, darling.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs against your cheek, nose digging against your temple he breathes in the scent of you.

Without removing your eyes from your screen, you reach a hand up to give his cheek and jaw a loving caress. Curious fingers brush against plastic frames. You turn your attention to him in awe, “You’re wearing your glasses today!”

“Mhm,” he brings a finger up to fix his frames, almost bashful. “Ran out of contact solution.”

You take his face into your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “I love your glasses. You look so handsome, so beautiful.” You grin at the way his cheeks redden.

“Gimme a kiss?”

He eagerly dives in for one. A hand moves to cup the back of your head, tender in his affections. He lavishes attention on your top lip, moans, and then moves his focus to your lower lip. His tongue shy in the heat of your mouth. Spencer lets out another little moan, the sound of his near whimper making you stand.

From cheek to shoulder, you rub your thumb on his skin. You push him down onto the chair, his legs parting on instinct to make place for you. Knees digging against his thigh and hips, you make yourself comfortable on your throne.

“You’re so pretty,” he says up to you. Spencer’s lips are swollen and red, glistening with spit. His eyes are watery and hazy, his glasses fogged from the breath shared between you. His big hands grip your hips so tight you’re sure he’d wrinkle the blouse you picked for the day.

You bend down for another kiss, pressing your hips down at Spencer’s plea. He guides your hips down against his lap, you feel the zipper of his slacks press against the heat of your core. You’re wet, the room is hot, and Spencer’s mouth and tongue move to nip and kiss and lick along your chin and jaw.

As you grind down against his growing bulge, Spencer’s hands move to untuck your blouse from your pants. Gentle hands and curious fingers move beneath the fabric to feel your heated skin against his palm.

A commotion outside your office makes you stop the grind of your hips.

Spencer turns his head to the left, parting his lips from yours, a string of spit keeping you connected. With your foreheads pressed against each other, you put an ear out to listen on the other side of the door. You think you hear the familiar clicks and clacks of Penelope’s heels.

“I think I need to go,” Spencer sounds disappointed. You press a kiss on the corner of his lips.

Running your hands through his hair, you sigh. “Yeah, probably.”

He smiles up at you, eyes heavy-lidded in ecstasy, hands still caressing the skin of your hips.

He loves the feel of your hand in his hair. He loves the soft kiss you give the tip of his nose. He loves the way you fix his glasses, crooked and fogged up from the heat of your kisses. He loves you, and you love him. He feels it now as you smooth down the front of his button-up shirt.

You slowly stand from your place on his lap, fixing your pants that had ridden up and bunched at your thighs from your little session. You notice Spencer doing the same to his own.

He sniffs, standing, two fingers pushing his glasses more firmly up the bridge of his nose.

“One last kiss?”

You smile at his request, finger and thumb reaching forward to pinch his nose.

“You’re so cute.”

He taps his cheek twice in response.

[o-lensindia]

Order your Russian smoky Daily disposable contact lens and make everyone notice the difference in your look, personality, and charm. So, look no more, go for eye lens shopping online and get the finest Colored contact lenses from O-Lens.  

Visit:  https://www.o-lens.co.in/

[freshtoneshop]

Natural Contact Lenses are often described as contact lenses made to give the eyes a natural appearance. These should not be mistaken for "organic" or "eco-friendly" materials, since there aren't any of them available for contact lenses right now. Instead, while looking for "natural contact lenses," consumers typically choose a subdued, genuine appearance.

[ivysangel]

notes/cw: suggestive content (no explicit sex), jason intentionally scaring reader/getting off on reader's fear

He knows it's wrong. In the back of his mind, his morality objects to his actions. "Don't do this, Jason." The angel on his shoulder says. "You'll scare her." But wasn't that the point? To scare you a little, to get your heart rate up, to make you fear for your life just a bit. He would never hurt you; he'd never dream of it. There was no world, no universe where he would ever desire to lay a hand on you in a way that wasn't meant to bring you pleasure. And yet here he was, looming over you, head cocked to the side as he watched the soft rise and fall of your chest while you slept. So sweet and unassuming, brows furrowing as you stir in your sleep, perplexed by something only you could see. 

He moves around the bed, heavy boots made silent with years of stealth training. The creak of a single floorboard is loud in the quiet, and he knows he could've avoided it—he does it all the time—but he wants to wake you up; he wants you to see him. Head to toe in tactical gear, leather jacket stretched out over his arms, covered with blood and grime after a long night's work. "You should shower." the angel says. "Leave her alone." But he doesn't want to. Not until he's had his fill of you, your body, and the sweet juice it produces.

He steps on the creaky floorboard again, and your hands find your eyes, rubbing them softly. "Hello," you say, still somewhere in a dream. "Jason?" Your voice is so kind and welcoming, just like it always is, and he questions his own motives. It's still not too late for him to kiss you goodnight, but his pants are getting tight, and his breath is getting ragged. You'll hear it through the metallic rasp of the modulator soon if you don't already.

There's a moment of silence after you fully open your eyes. A moment of registering that something is off; something about Jason is off. You want to ask what's wrong, but your words get lost along the way, the intimidation of his demeanor killing them before they have a chance to get out. You try again, a full sentence forming in your brain, but the only thing that comes out is his name. Shaky and uncertain, laced with concern and confusion. He's quiet, standing still, shrouded in the darkness of the room, and you can see only an outline of his body and the glowing eyes of his mask. 

"Are you scared?" He asks. "You seem scared." The words are gravelly, rolling out of the red helmet with tension behind each one. He takes a step forward and drops a knee onto the bed, which causes it to dip with his weight. "Don't be. I won't hurt you…ever." The rough surface of a gloved hand reaches up to your face, caressing it gently. It's such a normal action for him, so mundane it's almost second nature now, But this is different; there's no love hidden in his touch, no adoration in his body language. Beneath the gentle stroke of his fingers against your skin was a perverted desire to see you fear for your life, to see you shake beneath his touch and beg for mercy. 

He leans in, cold metal grazing against your face, touching it just enough to send a chill down your spine. He takes a deep breath, imagining how you smell, knowing your scent won't penetrate his helmet. Clean comes to mind, the remnants of a shower on your skin, soap lathered all over your body. He likes clean; clean is good, clean is nice. But he prefers sweaty; it means he did a good job. The tightness in his pants becomes unbearable as images of your body covered in sweat come to mind, and he can taste the saltiness of his tongue. He needs to have you in his mouth, to taste you as you plead with him to let you cum. 

Your voice is small when you finally speak again, uneasy and fearful of him so omnipresent in the room. "Do you promise? Not to hurt me, I mean…Do you promise not to hurt me?" You make eye contact with the glowing white lenses of his mask, empty and emotionless, indicative of nothing beyond a bone-chilling cold. A modulated voice speaks through the mask, corrupt with desire. "I told you," He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. "I'd never hurt you."

[jeffbiblesupremacy]

Jeff and Barcode @ YEvolution

[hjartasalt]

They need to stop taking all those photos of Cillian Murphy with the flash on bright as fuck until they give that man some brown contact lenses please you're hurting him he looks like a frightened animal forced out of its natural habitat for all the world to see