#Waist Slimming Exercises

[iyiadebizz]

Best Waist Slimming Workouts: Get a Slim, Sculpted Core

Are you looking to tone your midsection and achieve a more defined core? Incorporating targeted exercises into your routine can help you reach your fitness goals. A strong core not only enhances your appearance but also improves posture, reduces back pain, and boosts overall performance in daily activities1. Exercises like planks, bicycle crunches, and Russian twists are highly effective for…

[sameer7777]

Table of ContentsIntroductionUnderstanding Weight LossDebunking MythsThe Science Behind ItChapter 1: Mindful EatingThe Importance of Mindful EatingTechniques for MindfulnessPractical Tips for Everyday LifeChapter 2: Nutrition FundamentalsMacronutrients and MicronutrientsBalancing Your DietReading Food LabelsChapter 3: Smart Meal PlanningPlanning Balanced MealsHealthy SnackingPortion ControlChapter 4: HydrationImportance of WaterHow Much Water is Enough?Hydration Tips and TricksChapter 5: Sleep and Stress ManagementThe Role of Sleep in Weight LossStress and Weight GainTechniques for Better Sleep and Stress ReductionChapter 6: Healthy Lifestyle ChoicesAvoiding Common PitfallsMaking Sustainable ChangesSocial Support and AccountabilityChapter 7: Tracking ProgressSetting Realistic GoalsMonitoring Your ProgressAdjusting Your PlanConclusionLong-term MaintenanceStaying MotivatedFinal Thoughts

Click here: https://cutt.ly/QekMYurt

[onlypinkslut]

warning 18+ next part 2 > older pervy teacher!toji x innocent student f!reader🎀.

cw: manipulation, teacher x student, age gap, dubcon, taboo. mdni.

professor fushiguro had a reputation. not the kind that showed up in formal complaints or scandalous whispers, but the quieter kind, the dangerous kind. he was handsome, unnervingly so tall, built like a fighter not a lecturer, always dressed in black button-downs with the sleeves pushed to his elbows, veins peeking out like he wanted you to stare. and married. very married. a slim platinum band on his ring finger that he never took off, not even while scribbling equations across the whiteboard or wiping chalk on his pants.

he taught intro philosophy. the kind of class full of wide-eyed boys/girls who thought they were deep because they’d just discovered camus. but he never looked at them at least, not the way he looked at you.

it started subtle. lingering eye contact when he called on you, asking for your thoughts when you hadn’t raised your hand, brushing his fingers too close when passing papers. at first, you thought you were imagining it. that you were projecting something sick and inappropriate onto a man who clearly had no interest in silly little students. but then came the way he said your name slow, thoughtful, with the corners of his mouth curling like he was tasting it. like it meant something to him.

and then the school trip was announced. a philosophy retreat to another city. three days, two nights. guest lectures, roundtables, and some pathetic team-building exercises. you weren’t even going to sign up until he looked straight at you, mid-lecture, and said i expect all of you to come. some of you need the experience more than others. his eyes didn’t move. you didn’t dare look away.

the flight was cramped. assigned seats. you didn’t realize the horror of it until you read the manifest and saw

mr. fushiguro listed next to your name in tight black font. he was already seated when you boarded, legs wide, jaw tense from the early morning. and when you shuffled in, clutching your little bag to your chest, he barely blinked. just motioned for you to sit like it was normal.

his thigh touched yours. his elbow grazed your arm every time he shifted. he didn’t look at you. didn’t say a word. but when the lights dimmed and the plane rose into the sky, you felt it that heat, that wrongness, crawling up your skin like a fever. he exhaled slowly beside you and his breath grazed your neck.

then came the descent. everyone around you began to shuffle, seatbelts unbuckling, the aisle clogged with bodies waiting to leave. you stood up, trying to squeeze past him, but the line wasn’t moving and he didn’t budge.

you mumbled something excuse me… but he just looked up with that lazy, unreadable expression, eyes dragging from your thighs to your lips. and before you could step back, he gripped your waist and pulled you down, right onto his lap. your knees hit the seat, legs splayed awkwardly on either side of his, and you froze, heart hammering.

his voice was low and soft against your ear.

relax. just until the line clears.

you looked around in panic. students were watching, some snickering, others wide-eyed. your cheeks burned. you tried to shift off but his hands pressed into your hips, holding you there.

you’re shaking, he murmured. nervous flier?

you tried to speak. to move. but his thigh shifted beneath you, just enough to make you feel the hard shape forming there, and your blood turned to fire. he didn’t even pretend to hide it. just rocked his hips subtly, like it meant nothing. like it was normal.

good girl, he breathed, still loud enough for only you. you’re learning how this works.

you didn’t speak for the rest of the walk off the plane. your skin felt like it didn’t fit right, legs sore from trying not to grind down on his lap, jaw locked so tight you thought it might crack. professor fushiguro stayed close behind you the whole time, rolling his suitcase casually like nothing had happened, like your thighs hadn’t just clenched around him in front of half your classmates.

the others were loud. dragging their bags through the terminal, laughing, pushing each other like overgrown children. you stuck to the back, head down, trying to disappear.

but he didn’t let you.

careful, sweetheart,

his voice slid out behind you as you stumbled slightly on the escalator. his hand found your back warm, wide, steady and pressed there as you stepped off.

you really should wear more supportive shoes. your ankles are too delicate for all that walking.

you heard the giggles before you even turned. two girls near the vending machine, whispering behind their hands. someone muttered, he’s so protective of her, and another one snorted. you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

but he didn’t stop. he leaned closer, brushing your hair off your shoulder in one slow sweep, his fingertips grazing the back of your neck like it was just a kind gesture.

did you even eat this morning? he asked, frowning at your suitcase like it had wronged him. you’re already swaying. c’mon, let’s find you something light.

professor, i’m fine..-

no, he cut in gently. you’re my responsibility now. can’t have my favorite student passing out in front of the whole class, can i?

you swallowed hard. someone definitely heard that. the stares were louder than the voices now. you kept your head ducked while he guided you through the airport like a little girl his hand always on your back, his voice soft, too soft.

and then came the hotel.

they passed out room keys in the lobby. everyone was half-asleep, waiting for their pairings to be called. you hovered near the back, praying hoping but then the coordinator raised a small envelope and called your name, along with one that made your knees lock.

professor fushiguro.

your head snapped up.

you expected him to object. to say it must be a mistake. instead, he smiled. actually smiled. that same lazy, slow grin he gave in class when a student said something dumb.

looks like you’re stuck with me again.

the envelope was placed into his hand. he didn’t even give you yours. just held it in one hand and reached for your wrist with the other, tugging gently like he was leading a child through traffic. your breath hitched.

don’t worry, he whispered low, only for you. i don’t snore.

your knees nearly gave out.

the hotel room door clicked shut behind you with a soft finality. you stood frozen near the entrance, arms tight over your chest, suitcase still in hand. everything felt a little too quiet. a little too still.

the room was bigger than you expected luxurious in a way that didn’t feel meant for students. polished wood floors, a king-sized bed with a tall headboard and crisp white sheets, gold lamps glowing warm on each side, casting light that made the shadows stretch long. there was only one bed.

you stared at it too long.

he noticed.

looks like they forgot to give us two, he said casually, not even surprised. he rolled up his sleeves with slow fingers, loosened his tie and tugged it from his neck like he’d done it a hundred times before.

probably some kind of mix-up with the school. they’re always disorganized with this stuff.

you swallowed. your throat felt dry.

he turned back toward you, voice warm. you don’t mind sharing the bed with this old man, do you? it’s just one night.

you opened your mouth. closed it. shook your head.

no… it’s fine professor.

he smiled, soft.

good. you’re like my daughter, anyway.

your stomach twisted.

you didn’t say anything as he took your suitcase from your hand without asking, set it beside his, already resting near the bed like it had always belonged there. the two bags looked strange next to each other. intimate. like a couple’s.

you stood there while he moved through the room with ease, kicking off his shoes by the armchair, stretching like he was home. like this was normal.

then he picked up the hotel phone and called room service.

he didn’t ask what you wanted.

for her? something soft. salmon. jasmine rice. tea. nothing spicy.

your eyes snapped to him. his were already on you.

just something sweet and easy, he added, like he knew you better than you knew

yourself.

you nodded, too afraid to speak. your voice felt buried.

when the food arrived, he set it on the table and pulled the chair out for you. you sat.

legs crossed tight beneath the hem of your school-issued skirt, and picked slowly at the plate while he poured your tea.

you keeping up okay in class?

he asked, tone light.

yes, you whispered.

anyone giving you trouble?

you shook your head.

he sipped his own tea and leaned back slightly, watching you. the silence stretched.

you’re quiet,

he said.

always have been. the kind of girl no one notices unless they’re really looking.

you didn’t know if that was meant to make you feel safe or exposed.

you nodded again, forcing another bite of fish into your mouth.

his phone buzzed. he reached for it, glanced at the screen, and his face barely shifted but you saw it.

a small tightness in his jaw. he turned it around and showed you without a word. a picture. a little boy sitting in his lap, smiling up at him. a woman behind them, pretty, poised, hand resting on his shoulder.

my family, he said. no emotion in his voice. just fact.

they’re… cute, you offered, shy.

yeah, he said, already locking the phone and setting it face-down.

after you finished eating , he sat down in the armchair again, legs wide, thighs stretching the fabric of his dark slacks. he patted one.

c’mere. i’ll show you more pictures if you want.

you hesitated.

don’t act like we haven’t done this before, he said gently. come on, sweetheart. it’s just us.

your body moved before your brain caught up. you sat carefully across his lap, thighs draped over his, heart pounding in your chest like a small animal trying to escape.

he pulled you close. one arm behind your back. his phone in the other. photos flipped by birthday parties. vacations. family dinners.

and then his hand moved. not suddenly. not obviously. but slow. casual. it rested on your thigh, just above your knee. warm. wide. like it belonged there.

you squirmed.

he didn’t stop.

he swiped through another picture. his thumb rubbed slow circles into your skin.

you’ve grown a lot this year, he said quietly. filled out in places. you’re becoming a woman.

you tried to pull your skirt lower.

professor…

he kissed your cheek.

it’s okay. you’re like my daughter. this is just affection.

his hand slid higher.

you pushed it gently.

don’t be nervous, he murmured.

i just want to make sure you’re okay.

you sat still, heart pounding, thighs trembling over the stretch of his thick one. he’d pulled you into his lap again like it was normal, like the hotel room hadn’t gone too quiet, like dinner hadn’t already gone cold on the tray. the lights were dim now, golden and low. his hand rested over your stomach, the other between your thighs. not groping. just… resting.

he rocked you gently, side to side. you didn’t know why he did that. it felt like something a dad would do to calm a baby. but your pulse was racing, and your body felt so strange hot, stiff, twitching in ways you didn’t understand.

professor… your voice was small. you felt it tremble.

he hummed against your hair. mm?

why’re you… touching me like this… you asked, confused and breathy. it feels… weird…

that’s because you’ve never been touched properly before, he murmured, hand sliding slightly lower, grazing the soft curve of your inner thigh. your body doesn’t know what it wants yet. but i do.

you shifted, uncomfortable. the movement made his thigh brush directly against your pussy again and your breath hitched.

it’s okay, he said softly. you can feel that, can’t you?

feel what…?

the heat. his fingers brushed between your legs, right over your panties. right here. this part’s all wet now. that’s your body’s way of asking for help. and i’m going to help you.

but.. i don’t understand, you whispered, squirming in his lap. it’s not… i didn’t do anything..

you didn’t have to, he said, kissing your temple. your body reacts to me even when you don’t mean to. that’s what makes you different from those other girls.

you blinked. what girls…?

the ones who chase boys and drinks at dorm parties, he said, rubbing soft circles into your clothed slit. they think they’re grown. think they’re in control. but not you.

your eyes stung. you shook your head softly.

i don’t… i don’t party, you whispered.

you don’t even let boys touch you, do you?

n-no… never.

his hand pressed a little harder.

have you ever let anyone see this? he asked gently. right here?

you swallowed thickly, shaking your head again.

no. i never… no one’s ever…

do you even know what a cock looks like, sweetheart?

your whole face burned. i mean… no! not really. i’ve seen it in biology but not in real life.

no…

he smiled. god, he was so calm. so smug. like this was a lesson he’d taught a you.

that’s good, he said. i like that. means i get to be the first one to show you everything.

you looked down, still confused. but why… me? why’re you doing this…

he lifted your chin and looked you in the eyes.

because you’re the only one who still has something worth touching.

and then his hand slipped past the side of your panties hot fingers grazing your folds gently, slowly, carefully.

you gasped.

professor..

shh, he whispered, rocking you again. this is just a lesson. now tell me the truth…

his fingers rubbed delicately up and down your slit.

have you ever touched yourself here before?

you whimpered, eyes wide.

i… i tried once… but i didn’t know what to do… i stopped… my fingers hurts my pussy..

that’s because no one ever taught you, he said. and now i will.

your breath hitched hard when his fingers slid deeper, just barely spreading your soft, soaked folds open under the cotton of your panties. your whole body jerked, thighs twitching, lips parting but no sound came out at first. and then, like something cracked inside you, your face crumpled.

professor…

his fingers paused instantly.

what is it, baby?

your hands curled into his shirt, face twisting, eyes filling fast.

i-it feels so weird… it’s t-tingly and i— you whimpered, cheeks wet, i think i need to… pee or something…

you tried to close your thighs. tried to squirm away. but his arms held you tighter, locking you into his lap like you were made to stay there. he pressed a kiss to the side of your face, slow and gentle and warm like he wasn’t doing anything wrong at all.

shhh… no, no, sweetheart. you’re not gonna pee.

he whispered, brushing your hair back as your tears slipped down.

that’s just your little body not knowing what to do. it’s okay. it’s good. it means you’re feeling it right.

b-but professor, why’re you touching me there, you cried softly. i-it’s private…

he didn’t stop rocking you, just pressed his palm deeper against your soaked panties again and rubbing it.

it is private, he murmured, kissing your cheek. but you needed help. and no one else was going to teach you the right way. only me.

you whimpered, hips jerking forward without meaning to. the heat was unbearable. and the shame stung just as badly.

but you’re my teacher…

i know, he whispered. and that’s why it’s okay.

your eyes widened.

what…?

because sweetheart, he said, rubbing you slower now, lips brushing your temple. i see how soft you are in class. how shy. no one else notices. but i do. and that means i’m the only one who gets to help you.

you sobbed again, barely able to sit still, your hips sliding forward with every desperate rock of his thigh.

i don’t wanna be weird… i’m not like those other girls you said…

you’re not, he breathed. you’re better. softer. cuter. you don’t chase boys.

you don’t pretend to be grown. you just sit there with your pretty little skirts and keep everything bottled up, like your body’s too good for this world.

you hiccuped, voice cracking.

d-does your wife pussy pee like this…?

the question came out in a whisper. like something you shouldn’t have asked.

he went quiet for a beat. the movement slowed.

then his mouth dipped to your ear.

no, he said flatly.

his hand cupped your pussy again, rubbing the wet fabric in slow, grinding motions.

she’s old now. bitter. independent. thinks she knows everything. never cries for me like you do.

you blinked tears down your cheeks.

i’m not trying to cry..—

but i love it, he said. i love how overwhelmed you get. how honest you are when you’re like this.

his fingers slid under your panties fully this time, parting your slick folds with a quiet squelch that made your entire body tense.

you’re so sweet down here, he whispered. so soft. you’re leaking all over me, baby. it’s okay. let it happen.

but i-i don’t know why i feel like this, you whispered, trembling.

because you’re finally safe, he said, kissing your cheek, rubbing slow, deep circles into your pussy now. parting your wet lips with his thick fingers exposing your soaked twitching hole.

his thigh was so warm, and everything felt slippery between your legs. you didn’t even know when your panties got this wet. your whole body trembled against him, tucked into his lap like you were part of him now his hands guiding your hips in soft, humiliating little rocks while he whispered so gently into your ear, like this was all just... educational.

feel that, baby?

he murmured, hand slipping lower again to press between your legs,

cupping you through the soaked cotton.

you’ve been dripping since dinner.

i-it’s not my fault..

you whispered, voice cracking, tears brimming.

i don’t know why it’s happening...

he hummed, rubbing slow lazy circles over your pussy with two fingers.

because your body knows what it needs. even if your brain’s still trying to catch up.

your lip quivered. your thighs twitched. the damp heat had gotten unbearable.

but professor… this place… it’s gross and private. isn’t it wrong?

his voice honey-sweet.

it is private. that’s why it’s mine now. only someone who really cares should ever touch you here. and i care more than anyone ever could.

you whimpered, tears falling.

i don’t understand why it feels like this,

you sniffled.

i-it’s like… hot. and i get this.. tingly squeeze inside. like i’m gonna pee..—

oh, baby.

he whispered with a soft laugh.

you’re not gonna pee. that’s your little pussy trying to cum. it just doesn’t know how yet.

you shook your head.

i-i’ve never done that before. i never touched it like that. i didn’t know it could do that…

i know,

he said, rocking you a little rougher now.

you need me to teach you everything, don’t you?

yeah…

good girl. then let’s start with the basics. say the word.. 'cock.'

your eyes went wide.

i don’t want to..-

his fingers dipped just beneath your panties, grazing your soaked slit.

say it.

you swallowed hard, squirming.

..cock.

he groaned softly into your hair.

that’s it. again.

‘cock.’

you repeated again, blushing.

mmh. now say, 'i’m wet.'

your voice cracked.

i’m wet…

he licked his lips, dragging his fingers up and down your folds, so slow you thought you’d break apart.

say, 'touch me here.'

t-touch me… here…

good girl,

he growled.

you’re so fucking sweet.

you gasped as he unbuckled his belt behind you. your body froze. your heart skipped.

what are you doing…?

relax. he breathed, stroking himself now behind your back. i’m not gonna do anything to you. just sit right there sweetheart.

you flinched when something heavy and hot pressed against your thigh. you looked down. your breath caught.

what is that..—?

you whispered, panicked.

why is it so… big?

he chuckled darkly, wrapping one arm tight around your belly.

that’s my cock, baby. the thing your little body keeps reacting to. it’s big because you’re small. because you’re made to sit right here and take care of it just like this.

your eyes filled again.

it’s scary…

shhh, i know, baby. i know it looks scary. but it’s not for hurting you. it’s just for making you feel good.

he moaned, stroking himself faster now, grinding your soaked pussy down harder onto his thigh. you’re perfect, baby. so soft. so sweet. say it again.

professor c-cock… i’m wet… touch me here…

his whole body shuddered behind you. you could feel the heat spurt across your leg,

thick and wet and terrifying. he groaned deep, squeezing your belly tight, panting against your ear.

see what you do to me, baby? just by sitting there leaking like that… fuck.

you looked down at the mess between your thighs.

you were still tingling. still hot. still wet. your thighs were sticky where your panties clung, and your tummy felt tight in a way you didn’t know how to soothe. he’d told you to rest. to go lay down.

to be his good girl and not touch anything but how could you?

not after what he did to you.

you were on the bed, curled up in your thin little pajama set shorts too small, top riding up your soft belly, clutching your stuffed bunny with your cheek pressed to the sheets. your eyes kept drifting to the light under the bathroom door.

you heard the shower.

your thighs pressed together again. he was in there. naked. touching himself maybe. you weren’t sure what men did when they showered. but you knew what you saw earlier the thick, scary thing that had rubbed against your leg. it looked swollen. heavy. too veiny. and it made your whole body squeeze up with confusion and need. your bare feet padded across the carpet before you even realized it. bunny still in your arms, you crept closer to the door, the quiet hiss of water growing louder. and then you peeked. your breath hitched.

he was there back turned, broad shoulders glistening. his hips rocked under the spray.and between his thighs… it hung so long. thick. heavy. wet and twitching slightly. your whole body locked up. you didn’t even notice the sound you made.

his head turned.

his voice was sharp.

what are you doing?

you flinched, hugging your plush tighter.

i-i was just… looking…

you whispered, shrinking in the doorway.

he stepped out of the shower slowly, water trailing down his chest, down to his hips, down to the terrifying length between his legs.

his brows furrowed.

i told you to be in bed.

you whispered

i was.. but i couldn’t stop thinking about it…

he paused.

about what?

your eyes dropped.

your… your manly big thing.

he blinked. then he laughed.

this?

he asked, wrapping his big hand lazily around it, giving it one slow stroke.

it scared you?

you nodded fast, lip trembling.

it’s so ugly… and… veiny… and hairy… and it looks like it’s in pain or something…

he stepped closer, cock still hanging, still so heavy. your eyes widened.

it’s not in pain, babygirl.

he said gently.

it just gets like this when it needs attention. and yours made it like this, remember?

you squirmed in place, thighs rubbing together again.

i didn’t mean to…

he crouched in front of you, still naked, stroking it idly with one hand.

i know, sweetheart. but it’s part of being close. bonding.

bonding? you repeated, voice unsure.

mhm, he smiled. girls your age bond with their daddy’s big cock when they don’t have anyone else to teach them.

but… what is it?

you asked, voice soft.

what does it do?

he leaned closer, rubbing the tip against your center pajama shorts, right where you were still damp.

it makes you feel good. it helps when that little place between your legs gets too full. like earlier. you felt better when i touched you there, didn’t you?

you nodded slowly.

but… it looks like it wouldn’t even fit… anywhere…

he smiled wider.

that’s why we start small. we’ll get you used to it, baby. don’t be scared. it loves you already. can’t you see how hard it gets when you’re near?

he gave it another slow stroke, and you couldn’t look away. it twitched again. your whole body ached.

you’ll learn to love it too. he murmured. you’ll see. soon you’ll be begging me to let it kiss your little pussy. and when you’re ready, we’ll make it yours forever.

you whimpered, hugging your bunny tighter.

do i have to? he kissed your forehead, thick cock still brushing your thighs.

you couldn’t stop looking at it.

he stood there, still wet from the shower, his thick cock hanging heavy between his legs, twitching every few seconds like it had a mind of its own. it scared you. made your stomach twist and your thighs press together all over again.

you hugged your bunny tighter.

it’s still twitching… you whispered.

toji chuckled, slow and dark.

yeah, babygirl. because you’re still here.

your face burned.

do you… want to say hi to it?

you blinked.

what?

he stepped closer, his cock brushing your leg again. he likes you. i think he wants you to touch him.

but it’s not a person… you murmured, confused.

he’s not, toji said gently. but he reacts like one. look how hard he gets when you’re near. look how red and swollen his head is. that’s all for you, baby.

you looked down, trembling. it was huge. the tip shiny and flushed, leaking a little bead

that dripped slowly.

i don’t know how to touch it… what if i do it wrong…?

toji smiled.

you won’t. just pet it a little. like you do with your bunny..

your hand moved slow. so slow. your fingers brushed the side of the shaft, and toji hissed between his teeth.

fuck… see? he likes you already.

it’s… hard. but soft… you said, voice cracking. and warm…

he loves your hands, toji whispered, wrapping his own big hand over yours and helping you stroke down.

you’re the first person he’s wanted in years.

but why does it feel like it’s… pulsing?

because he’s excited. because you’re so pretty and soft and sweet. he knows you’re made for him.

you whimpered as your fingers closed around it shakily, barely able to hold half its thickness.

it’s so big… he won’t fit anywhere…

toji kissed your cheek.

not yet. but one day he’ll fit perfectly. your pussy’s still too small. but he’s patient.

your eyes were still wide. your thighs rubbed together from the pressure building again.

do you want to kiss him?

you froze.

w-what…?

just a little kiss. right here.

he stroked the leaking tip, smearing it with his thumb.

give him some love babygirl.

you shook your head fast.

b-but it’s… it smells weird… and sticky…

that’s just because he’s happy,

toji whispered.

he needs to bond with you. just like you bond with your bunny when you sleep with it.

but he’s not soft like bunny… he’s scary…

toji cupped your chin and gently guided your head down, cock pressed against your cheek now, hot and veiny and twitching.

just a kiss, baby. just a little one on the tip.

you whimpered again, mouth trembling.

i… okay…

you leaned down and pressed your lips to the flushed head. toji groaned loud, his hand tightening in your hair.

fuck, baby… you’re perfect.

you pulled back quickly, eyes watery.

he stroked your hair, breathing hard.

you were still on your knees.

the bathroom tiles felt cold under your thighs, and the smell of his skin clean but earthy, musky, older was thick in the steam around you. toji stood in front of you, cock heavy and hard, veins raised like it was angry. your bunny was clutched to your chest

still, squished between your arms and your trembling body.

now babygirl just a few licks with your sweet tongue.

he murmured, stroking himself slowly.

like ice cream. start from the base. all the way up.

your nose wrinkled. your eyes stayed wide, glassy.

i don’t wanna. it smells weird… and it’s hairy…

he laughed, low and deep.

of course it’s hairy, baby. i’m a man. not some pretty little boy from your books.

your gaze dropped again, shame pulsing between your legs. it was huge. thicker than your wrist. flushed and leaking and terrifying.

why’s it so veiny?

because it’s real. strong. and hard for you.

he took a step closer. his thighs flexed. you saw the way his abs weren’t cut, but thick. his stomach had a softness to it, a grown man’s stomach not flat, but firm. his arms were thick and veined, and his chest

had a scar down the side. older. rougher. experienced.

you’ve never seen a body like mine, huh?

you shook your head quickly.

n-no..

he cupped your jaw. tilted your face up.

that’s why you’re lucky. you get to learn with a real man who knows what he’s doing. not some awkward boy.

you squirmed. the tip of his cock rubbing your cheek again.

i’ll be gentle, baby. just one lick. come on… just like ice cream.

you pressed your lips together.

but i don’t want to… it’s… gross…

his hand moved from your jaw to your hair. stroked it softly. then he leaned down, whispering, and i didn’t want to get hard over my sweet little student. but here we are.

you blinked.

you did this,

he murmured.

you made it ache. now you have to help me feel better.

but…

he stroked your hair again, voice like honey.

you’ll feel better too. you’ll see. you’ll feel strong. grown. bonded. and i’ll be so proud of you. don’t you want me to say you did good?

you whimpered, lips parting slowly. he took your hand and wrapped it around the base again. your tiny fingers looked laughable against the girth.

now lick, baby. from the bottom.

your tongue came out. shaky. trembling. the first lick dragged slow along a vein that pulsed against it. you nearly gagged from the taste.

but i can’t…

you can, he whispered. you already are.

he held his cock with one hand, angled it up, and guided you to the leaking tip.

kiss the top again. let him know you’re not mad.

you kissed it. this time wetter. more open.

good girl, he growled. he loves your sweet mouth already.

your body burned. your panties were soaked. your hand was still around him, and your

tongue still trembled against the underside of his shaft.

you didn’t know how long you’d been like that on your knees, throat stretched, lips swollen and trembling around something too big, too hot, too wrong.

he hadn’t stopped. not when you gagged. not when your eyes welled up. not when your nose ran and the salty taste filled your mouth until you didn’t know if you could breathe anymore.

toji was patient. quiet. calm.

like this wasn’t inappropriate.

like he wasn’t your teacher.

you’re doing so well,

he whispered, his hand resting heavy on the back of your head gripping your hair.

guiding you down to the base.

he loves you already, you know that? he’s been waitin’ for you.

your knees burned. your bunny had slipped out of your arms, forgotten in the corner of the steamed-up bathroom. you were dizzy. your jaw ached. spit and precum clung to your chin in wet strands.

this isn’t wrong,

he murmured.

it’s necessary. you’re learning. bonding. this is what happens when a girl’s body starts asking questions. i’m just answering them the only way i can.

you whimpered around him, trying to nod, trying not to choke again. his cock twitched. he groaned softly.

fuck… that’s it, baby. almost there… just hold him a little longer…

he pressed deeper.

your throat squeezed. your chest shuddered.

your eyes blurred.

then he came. thick, hot, punishing pulses flooding your mouth, spilling across your tongue, sliding

down your throat before you could stop it. your body flinched, but he held you close, rubbing your back with one hand while his cock pulsed against your tongue.

shh… it’s okay. he needed to be close to you. he needed to know you accept him.

you couldn’t speak. couldn’t think.

you were still crying.

he pulled out slow, letting his softening length fall against your wet lips as your tears dripped down your chin and onto the tile below.

good girl.

he whispered, crouching down to gather you into his thick arms.

you didn’t resist.

your body folded into him, limp, shaking, soaked.

he carried you out of the bathroom like something fragile and ruined, whispering soft praises the whole time.

you did so good… took me so well… just like i knew you would…

he laid you down on the bed, tucked the blanket around you like nothing had happened.

your plushie bunny was pressed back into your arms, your body still trembling under the heat of shame and the ache between your thighs.

and then he crawled in beside you, propped up on one elbow, stroking your hair.

he misses your mouth already.

you looked up at him, dazed.

he sleeps best in it. and you… you sleep best with him.

he moved your head gently into his lap. you didn’t fight. your lips parted on instinct.

he placed the weight of his cock back between your lips, soft now. warm. familiar.

you closed your mouth around it slowly. your eyes fluttered shut. and tears kept falling.

shh… he whispered, stroking your cheek. this is how good girls rest.

you fell asleep like that.

his cock in your mouth.

his hand in your hair.

his lies buried deeper than anything else inside you…

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ thank you for reading my twisted little piece of fiction. this story is dark, filthy, and deeply personal🖤

so if you made it all the way through, i appreciate u more than you know. ur reblogs, comments, and thirst keep me going. stay dirty, stay curious, and stay safe🖤

onlypinkslut

[iyiadebizz]

Tips on How to Get a Small Waist: Unlock Your Best Figure Yet

Achieving a smaller waist involves more than just targeting one area of your body. It requires a balanced approach that combines exercise, diet, and lifestyle changes. Experts emphasize that focusing on overall body fat loss is more effective than spot reduction, which is a common myth1. Incorporating core exercises like incline situps with a twist and seated leg raises can help tone your…

[ammifanart]

Hey so what are your headcanon heights for the ancient heroes? 👀

Heres the heights and builds. I will go a lil more into why I chose to design them all like this. Dark Cacao: He's my fav and I like drawing big buff men. Lol but seriously? In his canon his sword is said to require the strength of 3 cookies to lift, so bro is obviously gonna be jacked. He's defined, but I also imagine he has a little fat on him, one for the cold and two, men who are pure muscle get tired very quickly, men who has some fat on them burn it off when exercising. Thats why he doesn't sport a 6 pack.

Pure Vanilla:

Definately got the disney waist build lol. Obviously he needs to be a lot slimmer and less defined than Dark Cacao since he isn't known for strength. I wanted to invoke more of a lean body type for him to make him more soft and graceful too. I gave him more of a hourglass shape since he is likened to more religious aspects my first thought was the virgin mary. So I made him a bit bottom heavy heh. Hollyberry: Always headcanoned her as small. She just has dwarf energy to me, but drinking so much alcohol would make you overweight so I made her thicker. I wanted her to be stockier though so making her forearms larger givens the immpression of her strength, but I wanted it to look different from Dark cacaos, his strength coming from his biceps due to his swinging motion with his sword, while her strength being more in her forearms and thighs for bracing with her shield. Golden Cheese:

Influenced by Gods of old myth where volumtousness and curves were a sign of fertility and a healthy body. So she has a very model like body. Generically attractive one of the body types thats "idealized" since her whole thing is being paid attention to, worshipped and godlike. It made sense to me.

White lily:

I wanted her to look almost frail in her design, like she could be broken so easily. So I went for a very slim build with barely any meat on her. Being stuck asleep for such a lot time has to be draining too, but i didn't want her to look like she was too unhealthy, just almost like the past implication of it. As for all their heights? I wanted them mostly to be average save for hollyberry and dark cacao cuz I just think it's funny.

[bloomzone]

Wonyoung : Inspired Full Workout Routine

If you’ve ever admired Jang Wonyoung’s long, toned figure and effortless stage presence, you’re not alone cuz same . As one of the most well-known K-pop idols, she maintains a lean yet strong physique while performing intense choreography and balancing a busy schedule. While Wonyoung hasn’t publicly shared her full workout routine, we can get a good idea of what she likely does by looking at the types of training that help idols stay fit in some shows

This workout is inspired by a mix of dance, strength training, and flexibility exercises focusing on toning the body while keeping things light and graceful. If you want to flexibility ... this routine will help you build endurance, improve posture, and tone your body without gaining excessive muscle !

first here are two workout video u can start with:

first | second

ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ꪆ୧ Warm-up (10 minutes) – wake up ur body!

Before getting into the main workout, a proper warm-up is essential to prevent injuries and improve performance. This warm-up gets your blood flowing and preps your muscles for movement.

1. Jumping Jacks (2 minutes)

Start with classic jumping jacks to get your heart rate up.

Move your arms fully overhead for a full-body effect.

2. Dynamic Stretching (5 minutes)

Leg Swings – Hold onto a chair or wall and swing one leg forward and backward (10 reps each leg).

Arm Circles – Extend your arms to the sides and make small circles, gradually increasing their size.

Hip Rotations – Rotate your hips in circular motions (30 seconds in each direction).

3. High Knees (1 minute)

March or jog in place while bringing your knees as high as possible.

Engage your core for better balance and coordination.

4. Torso Twists (2 minutes)

Stand with feet slightly apart and twist your torso left and right.

This helps loosen up your spine and waist.

ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ꪆ୧ Cardio & Dance (20 minutes)

Dance is one of the best full-body workouts, and since Wonyoung is constantly performing, we can assume dance training is a big part of her fitness routine. This section will help improve stamina, coordination, and agility.

1. Dance Routine (15 minutes)

Pick a K-pop choreography ( anti fragile by lesserafim or super shy by nwjns are great choices as a start 💀 ).

Focus on full-body engagement, precise movements, and fluidity.

Repeat the chorus multiple times to increase endurance.

2. Jump Rope (5 minutes)

Grab a jump rope and go for steady jumps to burn calories and improve footwork.

If you don’t have a rope, mimic the movement in place.

ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ꪆ୧ Strength Training (25 minutes)

Wonyoung has a slim yet toned body, which suggests she does low-impact strength exercises that emphasize definition rather than muscle bulk.

1. Squats (4 sets of 15 reps)

Stand with feet shoulder-width apart and squat down as if sitting in a chair.

Engage your core and push through your heels.

2. Lunges (3 sets of 12 reps per leg)

Step forward into a deep lunge, making sure your knee doesn’t go past your toes.

This helps tone your thighs and improve balance.

3. Push-ups (3 sets of 10-15 reps)

Keep your core tight and lower your body in a controlled motion.

Modify with knee push-ups if needed.

4. Plank (3 sets, hold for 30 seconds to 1 minute)

Keep your body straight and avoid letting your hips drop.

This strengthens your core and improves posture.

5. Leg Raises (3 sets of 15 reps)

Lie on your back and raise your legs without touching the ground.

Engage your abs to keep your movements controlled.

6. Bicep Curls (3 sets of 12 reps)

Use light dumbbells or water bottles.

Slowly lift and lower your arms for a controlled workout.

ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ꪆ୧ Flexibility & Cool-down (10 minutes)

Idols like Wonyoung need flexibility for fluid dance movements. Stretching helps prevent stiffness and promotes long, lean muscles.

1. Standing Hamstring Stretch (1 minute per leg)

Extend one leg forward with your heel on the ground and lean in.

2. Quadriceps Stretch (1 minute per leg)

Grab your ankle and pull it toward your glutes for a deep stretch.

3. Hip Flexor Stretch (1 minute per leg)

Step forward into a lunge and push your hips forward.

4. Upper Back & Shoulder Stretch (1 minute per side)

Interlace your fingers and push your hands forward to round your back.

5. Cobra Stretch (1 minute)

Lie on your stomach and push your upper body up with your hands.

6. Child’s Pose (2 minutes)

Sit back on your heels with arms extended forward for full-body relaxation.

ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ꪆ୧Final Tips for wonyoung fitness routine

Hydration is key! Drink water throughout your workout.

Don’t overtrain. Wonyoung’s routine likely includes proper rest days.

Consistency is everything. Do this workout 3-4 times a week.

Pair it with a balanced diet. Nourish your body with protein and healthy carbs.

@bloomzone !🍀

[maeranyy]

MY PINK PRINCESS WORKOUT PLAYLIST + SCHOOL RESULT ♡

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

🌸 Princess pilate 🌸

I do Pilates 5 times a week. I try to do short sessions. I adapted this routine to my body and my morphology, but I wanted to share it with you to give you ideas and motivation. I learned a lot about Pilates, so you can ask me any questions you want about it ♡

https://youtu.be/BbhVokFdq6M?si=E_gGIktQJ_tym6ra

This exercise is very important in my routine because it specifically works the oblique area. These are the muscles that will give you a slim waist with a corset effect. Plus, it only lasts 5 minutes. If you have an inverted triangle or rectangle body shape, it's perfect for you ♡

https://youtu.be/7HF92d0X3Jc?si=EiiUkMuamZvxYWqO

I just do it to get a flat stomach because I get bloated easily and I really want that flat stomach

https://youtu.be/VPC9Q9VXnjQ?si=ZlnIjwqTm0u6mZ7E

The exercises for the hip dips cannot completely make them disappear but as I also use subliminals with them I hope to have these very round hips. Btw, go see my post on subliminals, it is very detailed and I give very good subliminals 100% to listen to.

https://youtu.be/FenSBprd1EI?si=aEGVIj_xx2Um2e5I

It's an exercise for the thigh gap and I also use a subliminal that will also help me. I want to clarify that I do Pilates to improve my health and glow up so it's like therapy. I don't do it for an obsessive purpose. Please my angels, take care of your body and listen to it ♡

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

🗒 ~ Study girl ~📖

Today I had exams in history geography and I got the results of my previous test in mathematics for the previous test I got 3/10 it's a horrible mark because the minimum is 5/10 and I was so disappointed and my friend got a 6/10 and she kept complaining about her mark in front of me while I got worse

and for my history geography exam I think I did pretty well I'm quite proud of myself ♡

I support all the angels of tumblr and I hope you have a good day or evening Aurevoir ♡

[angelpassing-by]

THAT SHELL WE CALL A BODY

Characters: Kaeya, Neuvillette, Ayato [blu bois] x [fat!/size neutral!fem!reader] Cw: discussion of weight and body, self image issues, suggestive (?) [maybe if you squint your eyes in Kaeya's part], descriptions of food (i'm so sorry, i just love ice-cream and as a lactose intolerant i just spend all summer daydreaming about it, I literally can't shut up about ice-cream for three months straight), vage mention of dieting. I hinted at this like two months ago, but the Neuvi part just didn't come through as I wanted it, after redoing it several times [and experiencing that first hand] I think I'm now satisfied. So basically you are feeling bad about your body due to different things and the bois comfort you A/N: bad English be aware. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝑜 𝓈𝓊𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁. 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒿𝓊𝒹𝑔𝑒𝒹 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎𝑒𝒹. 𝒻𝒶𝓉𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒶 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒸𝓇𝒾𝓅𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓅𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝒷𝒶𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓉.

𝓚𝓐𝓔Ⴘ𝓐

It had been years since you last enjoyed a bathing afternoon in Cider Lake followed by a relaxing nap in the Sun. That's how you would spend your childhood summers, splashing and running around in the rocky shore. That was until your teens where you started to become self-conscious about your looks, you didn't look like you "were supposed to", although you weren't too sure how you were even supposed to look.

When you managed to start dating Kaeya the self-loathing began to disappear because, if someone as him, the famous Calvary Captain no less, could love you so deeply, how could you be unlovable? Nevertheless, you tried to hide your body as much as possible and limit the intimacy with each other.

"Maybe if my thighs were smaller, and if I had a slim waist. If, if, if..." As every summer you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, inspecting your body from all angles, comparing with those pretty girls you saw in books and movies. Maybe there's something wrong with me, you had tried it all, exercise, diet, but nothing worked and just made your anxiety sky rocket which in turn made you gain the weight all back again.

"Hey, pretty" your boyfriend suddenly pops behind you snaking his arms around you and plants a kiss in your exposed shoulder.

"Don't say that" you grumble suddenly mortified by the image you two make, him, lean and tall, and you, a tiny and chubby.

"Why?" He kisses your other shoulder and stares into your reflection. "You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"I can't believe you, I'm so fat and ugly and- " Kaeya cuts you off.

"You are adorable and you are so fucking soft" His eyes lock with yours through the mirror and he continues softening his serious tone. "You were literally made for me to hug, your thighs are the best pillow when I come home tired, not to mention how hot you look whenever you wear something short" He playfully pats your butt and you can't help but giggle.

"I do have a great ass" You say and he laughs kissing the side of your neck. "So you don't think I'm ugly, even though I don't look like those thin models and actresses?"

"Don't be silly you are much hotter with your soft curves and those legs, damn, I'd be the happiest man if I got to die of asphyxiation between them." He responds, dramatically placing a hand on his chest as if your words had mortally hurt him.

He hugs you again, tighter. "Now seriously, you are pretty, and hot and beautiful and I don't think any other woman in the world could compare to your beauty. And even if you don't believe me, let me tell you that there's no more perfect body for you than your own. And I love you, and I love every inch of you, it doesn't matter how it looks because it's you, and the people who really love you will see how gorgeous you are. And of course, what a great ass you have."

That is the little push you need, seeing the feral look in your boyfriend's eyes as he ogles you, the way his hands hold you with such care and his lips place ghost kisses along the curve of your neck.

"Do you fancy spending the evening in Cider Lake?" You ask softly.

𝓝𝓔𝓤𝓥𝓘ℒℒ𝓔𝑇𝑇𝓔

"Dearest, is something wrong?" Your boyfriend's voice wakes you up from your thoughts.

"Um, yeah, just thinking, that's all" You answer trying to act normally as if thousands of horrible insults to yourself weren't running through your mind in that same moment.

"So, do you want some ice-cream?"He inquires pointing towards the parlor’s poster displaying some of the most delicious sweets you've ever seen, ranging from mint and berries to an elaborate chocolate dessert with sugar sprinkles and cookies toppings.

Your right foot starts bouncing nervously as you shift your gaze around, avoiding Neuvillette's piercing gaze.

"No, I'll pass" You respond. That's probably one of the hardest things you've ever done. There's truly nothing like having a cold ice-cream under the scorching heat of Fontaine's summer strolling along the crowded streets of the capital. But you saw that woman's look, the woman next to the pharmacy, just in front of both of you, that look you knew all too well: "she shouldn't be out here eating more, that's the reason she looks like that". Sadly, one too many passing comments and dismissive looks from your family had made you recognize it from a young age.

Neuvillette gives you a quizzical look but doesn't push any further. He orders himself something you don't have the courage to look at and meanwhile you focus on his pretty hair, the way it reflects the sun in his high ponytail. Of course he had let you tie a ribbon for him before going out and you smile inwardly reliving the sweet moment.

Which is, of course, spoiled by that woman, staring intently from across the street. When you try to return her stare she just looks you up and down with a peculiar face, one you sadly also know. The look that says, "maybe if you were better, you would look better, like me."

The burning shame sets across your face, painting your features reddish. You feel so, so stupid, after all this time, you think, it shouldn't affect me like this.

"Neuvi, can we go home already? I think I'm getting a bit tired" You urge your boyfriend as soon as he gets his treat, starting to walk a few steps ahead him so he can't see your watery eyes.

"Of course, darling, do you want me to call a doctor? I happen to know..." His voice is usually reassuring and warm, but now the world is just too hot and your head spins with anger and sadness. You stop focusing on his words as you both walk home, him, still a step behind you and you, still containing your tears.

At home, your boyfriend grabs your hands before you get the chance to get away, leading you to the velvety blue couch in the living room.

"Hey, are you fine? You've been kind of distracted this afternoon." His tone is laced with concern.

"Yes Neuvi" But your answer does not convince him.

"Are you forgetting love that you talking to the Iudex of Fontaine? Not even the most expert criminals can lie to me, and you, love, aren't really good at lying."

"'M sorry Neuvi-"

"I don't want to press you to tell me something you don't want to tell me, but I just want to know if there is something I can do about it."

Those words just break the little self-control that maintains your tears at bay. They start rolling around your puffy cheeks as heavy droplets of rain. With a concerned look, Neuvi hugs you closer, reassuringly tracing circles in your back with his hand. I'm between sobs and hiccups you manage to explain the situation as best as you can.

"- it's just, I know it must sound stupid, but -"He shushes you cupping your face in his hands.

"Nothing my pretty lady sais is stupid, do you want me to get that rude woman in jail?"

"What? No!" You exclaim with a horrified look, "It's not that important."

"Well, it is, staring disrespectfully at others is an offense and you have feelings, feeling that have been hurt, feelings that very much matter to me. Nobody should look down others and that woman had no business judging whatever you were or weren't doing."

You huff "What are you going to do then, send everyone that looks at me like I'm thrash to jail?"

"Of course, nobody has the right to determine how you feel towards your body" He gets up more determined than before, "Now, does my pretty lady want an ice-cream" His look is so serious that you can't help but feel like you are in one of his trials, but nonetheless, you respond with an equally composed voice, albeit broken at the end by a little chuckle.

"I'd like that very much Sir Iudex of Fontaine."

𝓐Ⴘ𝓐𝑇𝓞

You can't do it, you can't, well, that annoying little voice in the back of your head keeps you saying that you can't, all because of that stupid summer gala your boyfriend Ayato had convinced you to attend.

It had all started last week, with a scented letter from one of the many upstanding noble women in Inazuma. Ayato had come into your shared bedroom at night, just as you were going to sleep, waving it around. He was so excited you just casually agreed to be his companion, after all, as he had said, you had been a couple for a long time now and you always had refused to attend to such events with him.

He got you a delicately embroidered kimono made with the finest of silks just to match his attire, an ornate fan imported from Liyue, even sparkling blue glass hair pins. All you could do was cry for days. And now, again, you walk around the empty tea room adjacent to your bedroom feeling like an stranger.

You look like an ugly thing pretending to be a pretty girl. That's what that little voice reminds you each time you catch a glimpse from your reflection on the vases.

You will ruin his reputation, what will people think when they see him with something like you?

"Is everything all right Lady?"Thoma's voice startles you and you stop your pacing to look at the man's concerned face.

You nod absentmindedly and offer a weak smile. Thoma seems skeptical, however, he bows and leaves you alone again with your thoughts until your inner monologue is disturbed again not too long after.

"Dear, may I come in?" Ayato's voice is heard following two soft knocks on the door.

"Yes, it was Thoma, wasn't it?" You ask a bit too dryly as the door peeks open.

"Yes, but-" Ayato stops dead in his tracks when his gaze falls upon you. "Oh Heavens, you look truly incredible. Why didn't you tell me you were trying your outfit on? I would've worn mine too. Though I'm afraid nobody will look at me with such beauty by my side."

"Don't laugh at me." You huff with a scornful look.

"I'm not." He looks positively puzzled at your words. "You are stunning."

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes at your boyfriend, "Well, I'm not sure I should go with you."

"Did I do something wrong? Is it the dress? I should have ordered something more luxurious, I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe if-"

"No, no" You cut your boyfriend's panicked diatribe. "It's me." To that he truly looks dumbfounded. "Can't you see it? I look... not like you."

"What?" He tilts his head like some sort of confused puppy waiting for further instructions.

"I don't look thin and tall and imposing like you, I don't want others to judge you because of me" That wasn't entirely the truth, even if some high society folk spoke poorly about you, no one would dare to disrespect the Yashiro Commissioner. No, you just didn't measure up.

"That's not going to happen. Besides, it shouldn't matter what anyone thinks of you. Not even me." he gestures to himself "Although if you don't mind me saying, your curves look positively breath taking in this thin silk."

"I don't know if I believe you"

"Don't believe me, you don't have to like your body, but rather, see the value in what it offers."

He spins you around, the blue kimono shifting with your motions, one, two, three times, until you take his hand and begin dancing around the tea table. Now, the reflection of the vases depicts a lovely woman with a regal attire. Yes, she's chubby and soft, but that only makes her look more ethereal. And you realize a split second after that you are that woman.

Maybe you are just as beautiful as you boyfriend thinks, but even if you aren't, you are grateful to have a body that allows you to dance clumsily and with no music whatsoever in a tea room just before sunset.

[iyiadebizz]

The Best Exercises to Slim Your Waist Fast

Achieving a slimmer waist involves more than just targeting one area of your body. It requires a combination of core-focused workouts, a balanced diet, and consistent effort. This guide will walk you through effective strategies to help you reach your fitness goals quickly and efficiently. Core workouts, such as planks and bicycle crunches, strengthen your abdominal muscles and improve…

[xxsugarbones]

WORKING OUT WITH TOJI F.

-just joining your big beefy boyfriend Toji for his workout routine 💕

inspired by @starzu’s “Exercising with your boyfriend” fic found v

cw - fem!reader, plus size!reader, Toji is a real stinky boy but you love it, you sniff him (ya lil nasty), exercising (he’s doing push-ups, you sit on his back), biting, Toji folds you like a pretzel at the end, everything is recorded (consensual)

wc - 1.3k

|| an - Y’all I haven’t even watched JJK yet but I am so feral for Toji it’s not even funny. I love me a deadbeat dead man who could throw me around like a ragdoll if he so pleases 😩

Thinking about exercising with Toji.

He’s doing push-ups in the middle of the living room, all the furniture pushed off to the sides to make room for his bulky body, and a small tripod set up on the coffee table, his phone recording his workout routine so he could watch it back later and decide what he needed to improve on.

You were his good little cheerleader, sitting your plump frame on his broad back, your legs crossed and your hands resting on his shoulders.

At first you’d been hesitant to sit on his back because you were afraid you were too heavy for him, but he had assured you that it would be a good workout for him, that your “pretty little body” would be the perfect weights for him. So, like a good girl, you’d agreed so he didnt have to go dig out his actual weights. (Plus, you would have to be the one to lift them and put them on his back, and you knew very well that would not be a possibility, considering just how heavy they were.) And honestly, it shouldn’t have surprised you that he proceeded with no trouble at all.

He’s been at it for about half an hour now, occasionally taking little breaks by laying on the floor, while you shifted yourself back to straddle his thighs to give him a chance to breathe.

But it wasn’t ever too long before he got back into it, telling you to “sit your pretty ass back down on my back”.

“You got this baby! Doing so well!” You cheered on, leaning down again to rest your hands on his shoulders. His neck and shoulders were damp with sweat, his muscle tank clinging to his skin and loose strands of hair hanging in front of his eyes. He kept his sharp, green eyes focused on the ground, just trying his best to even out his breathing and keep himself in line, but it was getting very difficult with the feeling of your body weight and heat sitting atop him. But he stopped, lowering himself down flat to the ground when you tapped his shoulder three times.

“Lemme try something.” You started. You didn’t get much of a response other than a grunt from the man, who just wanted to continue his workout now that he was in the thick of it. You took that as your cue, shifting your body into a different position. Now you lay down on his back, stomach and chest against his toned muscles, and your arms wrapped around his slutty slim waist, and your nose nuzzled into his neck with a smile on your lips.

‘’m all sweaty, babe, don’t do that.” He huffed, but didn’t say much else as he once again started his push-ups, feeling you smile into his sweaty skin. This was much more comfortable for you. He grumbled out something about you being ‘gross’, which only made you laugh in response.

“But you smell good!”

“I stink.”

“I like you stinky.” Was your response, your hands sliding up underneath the hem of his tank and feeling his sweaty abs. A combined shiver ran through the both of you at the contact- your cool hands against his warm flesh, and he muffled a soft groan by sinking his teeth into his lower lip. You smiled, nose brushing along the tense muscles in his neck and just to prove your point, you tucked your head just beneath his jawline, and took a deep inhale.

“You’re real gross, princess.” He scoffed, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as best he could but really only catching a glimpse of the top of your head. You laughed, pressing a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder, and humming against the warm skin.

“Yeah but you love it.” You shot back, hands continuing to move around his body. One slid up his abs, moving further and further up his body until it hovered above his chest, the palm of your hand brushing against his nipple and making him tense again. You grinned, gently twisting and tugging at it.

“Gotta stay focused, baby, not much longer now and you’re done.” You teased, moving your lips to his neck again, your teeth ever so softly digging down into the skin, making a point to scrape your sharp canine teeth into the muscle. The groan you managed to rip from Toji was heavenly, and he could feel his already semi-hard cock twitching to life the longer your teeth were sunk into him.

“Playing a dangerous game there.” He hissed, but you paid no mind, just biting down a little harder. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, he had flipped your position. He rolled you over so your soft body hit the carpet with a soft ‘thump!’, and he quickly shifted his body above yours so he was pinning you down to the ground, one of his massive hands grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“Toji!” You squeaked, looking up to the taller man with widened eyes, and your thick thighs squeezing together at the sexual tension between the two of you that you were suddenly hyper aware of. Toji’s free hand grabbed onto one of your thighs, yanking it open and holding the underside as he hurled it up and over his shoulder, the heel of your foot digging into the back you had just been laying on not even minutes before.

“Nu-uh, princess, don’t act all shy now when you’ve been actin’ needy this entire fuckin’ time.” He moved his hips forward, pressing his hips against yours, finally making you aware of the little problem you’d caused him during his workout. You whimpered, rolling your hips upwards to grind against him, making Toji sneer, looking down to where your hips connected.

“How ‘bout we do a little workout together, huh?” He started, letting go of your wrists to grab onto your other thigh, hoisting it up onto his other shoulder. Your hips were up and off the ground now, and he leaned his body weight forward, pressing down into you so your thighs pressed against the swell of your stomach and chest. The angle ever so slightly constricted your breathing, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t make your brain fuzzy with the excitement for what was about to happen.

“You’re gon’ stretch your muscles for me, and I’m gonna fuck this pretty fuckin’ pussy.” He proposed, his hands smoothing down your thigh to push away the oversized shirt you had stolen from him (despite being a bigger girl, his shirts were still big on you, something drool-worthy), letting it roll up your body to expose your plush stomach, then making his way down to tug at your panties, pulling them flush against your pussy, and moaning at the sight of the wet patch that slowly soaked through the thin fabric. You whined, bucking your hips up towards his face.

“L-Like yoga?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” Toji chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your clit through your panties. You whined again, grappling onto the carpet beneath you as he pulled the fabric aside, then used his other hand to quickly pull down his sweatpants and boxers in one swift movement.

“Just keep these gorgeous legs up for me and we won’t have a problem.”

-

By the time you two were finished, Toji had to safely tuck that little video of his “workout” into his ‘HIDDEN’ album in his camera roll. But if you ask him, it was a pretty damn good workout.

[murdrdocs]

gonna need u to bring back some ben beast blurbs from the gold mine u have pretty pleaseee u write him so good

i got u stink

as soon as you introduced ben beast to cockwarming, he was hooked.

it wasn't something he ever considered before you. actually, he didn't even know it existed before you.

his ears reddened when you curtly explained the concept. you'd been cuddling then, ben's head buried deep in pillows that comfortably curved to cradle your heads, his arms wrapped around your waist and his hips snuggly stuffed right up behind yours.

you felt him begin to stiffen against your backside as you told him that the warming aspect of it came from the heat your cunt could engulf his cock in. a heat he was all too familiar with, but never in that context. he buried his head into your shoulder, his face warmer than usual. and he didn't say anything at first.

after some time though, he almost shyly asked do you wanna try it?, even though you both had an early morning ahead of you. from the moment his lubed-up cock slipped up into your pussy, ben had an addiction.

one he tried to indulge in as often as possible.

nights were his favorite. you saw the way he eagerly rushed through his night routine—speed running the last few meetings, only double-checking instead of triple-checking his alarms for the next morning, rushing through his shower and skincare, all just so he could slide up behind you in bed with the bottle of lube already in hand.

but then his fixation bled into the day. late mornings just so he could continue to doze off with his cock stuffed in your pussy. extended lunches because a quick session of you sitting on his lap turned into you bent over his desk with his cock drilling into you. moments to himself spent trying to ignore the halfie straining against his trousers instead of prepping for an upcoming interview like he should've been doing.

you're never one to complain, though. because you have it just as bad as him.

you're reaching behind you in the middle of the night to slip his cock back into you when it falls out. you're pushing yourself back down on him, keeping your thighs flush together at all times just to make sure he's as deep as he could go. you're eagerly skipping down the hall to his office with the lube glowing in your purse, ready to be used.

it's as addicting to you as it is to him—feeling full, the uncomfortable burn-stretch when he first slips in, slowly letting your body get re-used to something you do more than you can count.

and it's always made even better by seeing how effected ben in. the way he groans when he first slips in as his fingers press into your hips. the deep rumble of his chest when he laughs in disbelief, the way he says you feel so good, you always feel so good. the loving way he kisses and nips at your earlobe. the self-restraint you can feel him exercising—balls tensing against your ass cheeks, abdomen flexing, breathing deep—all so he can try (and likely fail) to not fuck you that time.

you were the one to introduce him to it in the first place, so the chances of you ever denying him are slim-to-none. just how you both like it.

[maeranyy]

7 DAYS PILATE CHALLENGE ( for tiny waist and slim legs) BY ME ♡

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮⠀

🥛 7 DAY PILATE CHALLENGE 🥛

Here is a perfect Pilates routine for a flat stomach and with a corset effect if you have trouble getting results you will surely get results with this the exercises are short but very effective because it targets special areas I spent a lot of time studying the different parts of the abdomen and seeing the exercises that work best so this routine is perfect ♡ Sorry if some expressions I use sound weird, I speak French and English is a secondary language ♡

୨ৎ Monday

https://youtu.be/7HF92d0X3Jc?si=ujf1M8S_sMw6EGOj

This one works the whole stomach, it will promote the flat effect, if you can't do certain exercises, there's no point in forcing yourself, your body will get used to it little by little

https://youtu.be/BbhVokFdq6M?si=uwVau8ji_fMYh_GB

So I love this one because it will work especially the obliques, the obliques are the abdominal muscles that will give you this corset effect ♡

𝒢𑄺 Tuesday

https://youtu.be/fsBMDHcc_xo?si=EdLRwVZyOiVOZQGy

This one is for the whole body but focus more on the stomach. Don't forget to hydrating , it's super important

https://youtu.be/7HF92d0X3Jc?si=ujf1M8S_sMw6EGOj

It's the same as for the first day because the most important thing is repetition. It's important to do the same exercises again

۶ৎ Wednesday :

https://youtu.be/BbhVokFdq6M?si=uwVau8ji_fMYh_GBj

you will rework the oblique area ♡

https://youtu.be/DJqXVhI3ykk?si=4YOB1Q4-ketsjdJ6

This exercise is great, it works the abs.

𐙚 Thursday

https://youtu.be/BbhVokFdq6M?si=uwVau8ji_fMYh_GB

https://youtu.be/MnlZBWPVF8o?si=OoPybmfASoqIeJCP

೨౿ Friday

https://youtu.be/7HF92d0X3Jc?si=ujf1M8S_sMw6EGOj

https://youtu.be/DJqXVhI3ykk?si=4YOB1Q4-ketsjdJ6

⠀ ୨ৎ Saturday

https://youtu.be/fsBMDHcc_xo?si=EdLRwVZyOiVOZQGy

https://youtu.be/7HF92d0X3Jc?si=ujf1M8S_sMw6EGOj

𝒢𑄺 Sunday

https://youtu.be/MnlZBWPVF8o?si=OoPybmfASoqIeJCP

https://youtu.be/BbhVokFdq6M?si=uwVau8ji_fMYh_GB

don't forget to eat more protein and drink plenty of water

Aurevoir mon sucre

[himluv]

I do just wanna say, while I will happily consume any and all Lucanis fanart, I am seeing a lot of very yoked, big shoulders/pecs Lucanis, and. Well.

In combat he does flips and kicks and shit like this:

Do you see that form? The perfect foot placement and the arch of his very slim waist? This man has a dancer's body. His legs will be INSANE. His abs and obliques will be long and supple and uhhhhhh...

What was I saying? Ahem.

Someone give me Lucanis in a dancer's belt and ballet shoes, STAT.

(also, I now imagine all those exercises he writes in his log are like... barre routines 😂)

[mewvore]

Is all that just from the 100 rep exercises and 4 mile walk like you said a month or two ago? Cuz I desperately want to change from an l to a b and I'm having a bitch of a time.

SOME of it is, a modest chunk is just from genetics/how my body stores fat. Depending on how your body handles fat, you might not get an outrageous dump truck from that routine alone but those exercises will increase your butt size to some degree, I can at least vouch for their effectiveness

Its why I also mentioned the waist trimming exercises. A slim waist can make any butt look big, which is something you gotta keep in mind when looking at butts online as reference. ass looks fat as heck but they're wearing a pair of size 6 jeans? Peep the ratio of waist to butt

[tj-dragonblade]

[Fic] With Every Nerve Alive

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: E Word Count: 4623 Tags: Human AU, Mechanic Hob, Rich Guy Dream, brief appearance by Matthew, Dream of the Endless is a Horny Little Weasel, class dynamics, as a kink perhaps, sweat is sexy, so is automotive grease apparently, scent kink, detailed sexual fantasies, Dream of the Endless is intense and unhinged, questionable lube choices, within a fantasy don't worry, no one's really getting fingered with engine grease, sugar daddy-sugar baby fantasies, glass sex toys

Notes: Prequel/bookend to Customer Service. I realized that Hot Mechanic Hob needed Dream's pov to get the full effect, so this happened. Also fills my @dreamlingbingo square C1, 'Sugar Baby', a couple thousand words in. Title taken from Turbo Lover by Judas Priest

Summary: Dream Atelíotes is merely seeking car repairs from a reputable shop; he was not expecting to get punched in the libido by the most beautiful mechanic he could have imagined.

On AO3

~ "Alright, and what're we lookin' at her for?"

"The clutch. Is not operating as expected; I fear I may have damaged it. Somehow."

Dream is grateful that the stout American behind the counter at Matthew's Motor Repairs does not pass any obvious judgement on this damning statement.

"Well, that definitely needs checking, then," he says instead, punching in notes on his computer terminal. "Hob'll be runnin' things for the next couple of weeks, lemme see when he can fit your girl in." He turns toward the half-open door that leads to the garage and yells.

"Hey Hob!"

"Yeah! Just a tic—"

"He'll definitely be able to find the problem and fix you up," the American is saying, but Dream pays him little mind, thinking ahead to schedules and obligations; the Porsche is not his primary means of transportation regardless. It had been a gift from Alex that he'd kept after the breakup, primarily out of spite. He will say, when asked, that he drives it for fun, but truthfully the manual transmission does not come easily to him and the car suffers for it. He is considering selling it, perhaps once the satisfaction of knowing how Alex seethes to see him with it has worn down—

"What's up?"

Dream spares a glance for the man who's just entered through the doorway to the garage, and promptly loses his breath.

—Exquisite—

The man is beautiful, average height and slim sturdy build, dressed in grimy coveralls that are split just enough at the zip to glimpse the collar of a plain white tee beneath. There is a sheen of sweat on his forehead and when he wipes at it, still with a wrench in hand, he leaves a faint smudge of black grease behind. His hair is dark, longish, tied up in a messy bun on the back of his head with wisps straying loose about his face attractively. His eyes and his smile are warm, strong nose and chin, a few days' worth of beard growth giving him a wonderfully soft-rugged cast that sets Dream's mouth to watering.

The coverall sleeves are rolled and twisted up to his elbows; the forearms exposed are liberally covered with dark hair, skin a warm sunkissed golden brown beneath, shapely and corded with the strength that comes of manual labor, of hefting tires and torquing wrenches. Dream considers, quite despite himself, how those hands might fit around his waist, his hips; how easily this man might lift or manhandle him about in bed, and the heat that has risen in his loins stirs approvingly.

"Mr. Atelíotes here's got clutch troubles with his Porsche," the American is saying. "Think you'll have time to check it out?"

"Not right away, I'm afraid. How soon would you be needing her back?" the mechanic asks, directly to Dream, and oh, the full focus of that gaze is divine.

"I am in no hurry," he manages to reply, voice only marginally dipping down toward sultry. He is here to see about car repairs, not to flirt with the hot mechanic in front of an audience. He is an adult. He is well-versed in exercising all manner of self control.

The mechanic smiles, like a ray of sunshine, and Dream's self-control is tested.

"Okay then, I can probably get you looked at and fixed up toward the end of next week, if that works for you? Thursday or Friday, let's say." He slips the wrench that he's still holding into a pocket on his coveralls, drawing Dream's attention to the lower half of his body, how the zipper on the coveralls goes all the way down underneath, and he firmly corrals and muzzles the thoughts that arise. Later. Let him finish his business here before he embarrasses himself.

"Next week is just fine," he agrees.

"Excellent," the mechanic says, beaming brightly, and Dream's mouth goes dry.

He is so unfairly beautiful.

The mechanic is talking now to the American who is entering Dream's work order and Dream drinks in the sight of him greedily, committing every detail to memory—the brush of silver at his temples, the crows' feet blooming at the corners of his eyes with every smile, the dimple in his chin just visible as a darkening of the scruff that adorns his jaw so beautifully. His arm flexes prettily as he points to the screen with a black-stained fingertip and his voice is strong yet soft and warm like honey; Dream sneaks a glance at his backside when he turns to the printer and finds the suggestion of shapeliness beneath the loose fit of the coveralls. Dream imagines, helplessly, buttocks and strong thighs covered in hair to match those exposed forearms, and barely stifles a whimper.

This man is absolutely exquisite, and Dream wants him.

Badly.

"Alright, Mr. Atelíotes, let me get your signature here," the mechanic says cheerfully, oblivious to the tempest he has stirred within Dream as he hands him the printed work order and a pen.

Dream makes certain that their fingers brush as he takes it, noting the smudge of fingerprints left on the paper by the other.

He glances at the mechanic's name on the form as he signs. Hob Gadling. He tucks the name safely into the vault of his mind, hoarding it for later use.

"Give me a call on Thursday next week, we'll see where we're at," Hob Gadling is saying, handing him a business card and leaving another grey-black thumbprint on the corner of the white cardstock. Dream immediately thinks of such fingerprints against the pristine paleness of his own skin and swallows thickly.

"Thursday," he repeats. "I will call then, thank you." It is Monday, currently; a week and a half is quite reasonable for routine car repairs in a reputable shop, he is given to understand, and Matthew's Motor Repairs is consistently rated with four and five stars online. He is confident that he has chosen well, especially when Hob Gadling smiles brightly while bidding him good day.

It is a good day indeed, for having met such a stunningly beautiful man.

~

He takes a cab home to Kensington, trying very hard to put his thoughts in order and focus on the week ahead, on his business meetings and the client proposal he's expecting on Friday. But his mind is full of brown eyes and warm smiles, hairy forearms and grease-stained hands, and his entire body finds these thoughts far more appealing than those of his day-to-day mundanities.

Hob Gadling lingers in his mind persistently, a siren call warming his blood and distracting him at the slightest provocation. Late afternoon finds him abandoning his office and retreating to his rooms, surrendering to the thoughts that have plagued him since his visit to Matthew's Motor Repairs this morning.

Hob Gadling—

He imagines how the smell of the shop might cling to the man, oils and gasoline and the sweat of his labor, intoxicating and inviting should Dream nuzzle in close. He imagines those hands with their black-stained fingertips, their work-roughened texture, sliding over his body. How might they feel against his skin, his chest, his thighs? On his tongue? He imagines the hungry light that might fill Hob Gadling's eyes, if Dream were to take those skilled fingers into his mouth and hold his gaze while sucking on them, tonguing lovingly at every crack and callous. He imagines those fingers dark all over with a thick layer of fresh grease, the mechanic holding them up with a smirk like a promise, turning Dream to lay on the bonnet of his car—or perhaps bending him over a stack of tires there in the garage, yes—and pushing those fingers inside him, deep and insistent and perfect while his other hand holds Dream down at the small of his back. Automotive lubricant is perhaps not sanitary or otherwise suitable for sexual use, but the heat-of-the-moment urgency of the idea appeals all the same.

He groans aloud at the thought of being fingered with the thick warm grease, the slide and drag and the way Hob Gadling's fingers would curve and press exactly right until Dream was shaking apart with pleasure, scrabbling at the rubber tread of the tires he's bent over. He imagines Hob Gadling murmuring complimentary filth above him—"You look so pretty with my fingers up your arse; bet you'd look even prettier speared on my prick"—as he comes and comes and comes.

Of course he wishes to have the mechanic's cock as well. He is certain it is full and glorious, a beautiful specimen that would fill him perfectly, touch every sweet spot within him and set him alight. He wants it in his hands, in his mouth, in his arse; he wants it any way he can have it.

He desperately wants to get fucked by Hob Gadling in his garage amongst his work, by Hob Gadling strong and sweaty and dirty in his element, vigorous and virile.

The car would perhaps be most comfortable for lying on his back, the better to see Hob Gadling's gorgeous face while taking his cock. He himself would be stark naked and the mechanic still in his coveralls, unzipped all the way to let his prick out. Dream imagines him naked beneath the grimy clothing; Dream envisions chest hair to match what was seen on his gorgeous arms. Dream imagines those arms sliding up along the bonnet beside him, bringing his legs with them until Dream is nearly folded double and breathless with the sweet pressure of the mechanic's dick inside him, pistoning deep and perfect.

Would Hob Gadling pick him up, like so much inventory to be moved about the shop? Would Hob Gadling fuck him standing upright, holding him as if he weighed nothing? He fantasizes about the strength in those forearms and biceps, of the way they would flex and hold, Dream's knees hooked in his elbows and those broad hands gripping his hips as the mechanic would bounce Dream up and down on his prick, Dream clinging around his neck and jack-knifed beautifully in his powerful arms.

He comes at the thought, face down on his knees in his bed with a toy vibrating steadily against his prostate as he strokes himself over the edge, and the orgasm is so intense that he loses all sense of space and time for a moment. The toy is still buzzing merrily when he comes back to himself and he fumbles for the remote beside him, turning it off without yet removing it. He rolls over, brings his messy hand to his face and licks. He wonders what difference he might taste between Hob Gadling and himself, imagines that he is licking Hob Gadling's spend from his hand instead of his own, imagines how those dark eyes and that lovely mouth would smile to see him do so, slow and lascivious.

He turns the toy back on.

His fantasies continue as the days progress. He imagines taking Hob Gadling into his mouth, tasting the sweat and the musk of him after working all day in the garage; he imagines lavishing his tongue all over the length of him, sucking and swallowing and milking him dry. He imagines Hob Gadling's work-roughened hands in his hair, combing through it, clenching tight as he spends into Dream's eager mouth.

He imagines Hob Gadling on his back on the low wheeled board that mechanics use for sliding beneath cars—he does not know its proper name, but he imagines opening Hob Gadling's coveralls while he is laid out on this board and riding him like a prize stallion there on the shop floor with the scent of his work and his sweat all around. He imagines the blackened smears Hob Gadling's hands might leave on him, on his hips, his waist, his arse.

He imagines Hob Gadling bending him over the bonnet of his Porsche, fucking him hard and fast and absolutely without mercy until he is screaming his pleasure, until he is so loud that the mechanic will cover his mouth to muffle the noise and simply fuck him harder still. He wants it, aches for it, imagines Hob Gadling's hands planted firm on his arse, squeezing, spreading him open for his pounding cock, leaving dirty smudges on both cheeks as they careen into orgasm together—

Dream comes under the warm cascade of his own rainfall shower, one hand braced against the sleek tiles while the other grips his pulsing cock tightly. He draws great gasping breaths of the humid air, mind barreling on even as his climax peaks and begins to subside. His mechanic in the shower with him after all of that, sudsy and slippery-wet beneath the spray, shedding the grease and grime of his workplace; his mechanic, pulling him in for a kiss, smelling now of soap more than sweat. The idea appeals, on more than one level, and will not be dislodged even as he dries and dresses for bed. He falls asleep at last to the thought of a scrubbed-clean Hob Gadling on his knees beneath the gently-pouring water, freshly-shampooed hair swept sleek and dripping back from his face and his smiling mouth wrapped around Dream's cock.

He wakes to the sun streaming in his window and lies alone in his spacious bed with drowsy thoughts of being kissed awake, of Hob Gadling's stubbled face and warm lips nuzzling against his cheek, of calloused hands with black-stained nailbeds petting down his sides and grasping his hips. Of Hob Gadling's strong shapely arms pulling him close, Hob Gadling's chest hair tickling his nose, Hob Gadling's heartbeat strong and steady beneath his ear.

He thinks of Hob Gadling following him about the kitchen as he fixes breakfast, imagines his mechanic in a borrowed robe that hits him mid-thigh and doesn't quite close over his chest. He does not currently own such a robe, but that does not matter to the fantasy. He imagines Hob Gadling draped warmly over his back in this too-small robe while he cooks, nuzzling kisses into the nape of his neck, purring about how he wants Dream for breakfast while dragging his calloused fingertips up the insides of Dream's bare thighs. Because of course Dream has merely thrown on a long shirt to cook for his lover, and of course his mechanic cannot keep his hands to himself, and of course Dream would like to be fucked over the kitchen worktop before breakfast.

It is a daring fantasy, this stranger in his home, infusing sex and affection into his daily routines, and Dream wants it with an intensity that is frightening.

He spins himself broader fantasies as the days become a week, of showing up to his mother's summer gala with Hob Gadling on his arm, a mere mechanic brought to an Atelíotes event. He dreams of engaging in increasingly indecent public displays with him where all the high society patrons would see, embarassing Mummy Dearest and igniting gossip that would haunt her for years. He would reward Hob Gadling handsomely for his part in the scandal, sexually, financially, both if he should like. Or perhaps he might offer Hob Gadling gifts and incentives without petty family business mixed in, lavish rewards simply for his affections and sexual attentions. The term 'sugar baby' is very much in line with his thoughts, if not entirely accurate; he is only forty himself and his mechanic had appeared to be in his mid-thirties at least. But that feeds into his story; Hob Gadling is well into adulthood and working in trade labor. Perhaps he never had the chance to go to university; perhaps he had grown up poor. Perhaps he might like to undertake a course of study now, if Dream were to offer to pay for such a thing, in thanks for how well-fucked his mechanic would keep him?

Perhaps he might gift Hob Gadling a luxury car like his Porsche, in return for the sexual services he should like to be provided. Perhaps he might buy him tailored suits, expensive clothes in the latest fashions. He is undeniably drawn to the grimy working-class vision that had been branded on his memory when dropping off his car, sweaty and grease-smeared and glowing with life, but he also imagines how stunning his mechanic might look cleaned up and dressed to the nines. Dream would like to wine and dine him at the finest restaurants in London, put him into a limousine after, open his perfectly-tailored trousers and sample his cock on the drive home. To Dream's home, of course, where he would take Hob Gadling to bed and offer up his body for his mechanic's use—which would be delightfully merciless, given how Dream had primed and teased and denied him with his mouth in the car.

Perhaps he might take Hob Gadling away with him on holiday, show him all manner of foreign destinations he would never have seen on his own; at each of them Hob Gadling would fuck him, in sumptuous hotel beds or private beach cabanas or the gleaming toilet stalls of michelin-starred restaurants, with every bit of skill and enthusiasm at his disposal—delighted to be Dream's kept man and eager to show his gratitude for all that Dream could provide.

Dream groans, dragging one hand down across his mouth and arched throat while the other works swiftly over his cock, writhing on his bed with his shirt undone and his trousers open. He is achingly hard, leaking steadily into every rapid stroke; he hasn't even bothered undressing, so caught up in the feverish fantasies of the money and favors he might lavish on this man who consumes his thoughts, of how thoroughly he could expect to be railed and ravished and seen to in return—

Orgasm overtakes him quite suddenly, leaves him gasping and breathless and wrecked, and still he craves more. His fantasies are delectable, but his appetite is insatiable.

He desperately wants the real thing.

~

It is Thursday of the next week at last and Dream, fueled by his fading ability to recall the precise brown of Hob Gadling's eyes or the way his cheeks crease up when he smiles, does not call Matthew's Motor Repairs to check on the status of his Porsche as instructed. Instead, he drives out, excusing the trip to himself by visiting a local bookseller first and picking up several selections to add to his personal library. He does not linger overlong among the shelves, however; today he is consumed with much more pressing distractions.

He must see Hob Gadling again, if only for a moment.

When he enters the shop, there is no one at the counter up front and the door to the garage is ajar, raucous music drifting faintly through. "Hello?" he calls, but receives no reply.

It is a warm day outside and quite warm inside as well; Dream imagines how sweaty Hob Gadling must be, to be performing physical labor under these conditions. Such thoughts do nothing to calm or cool him.

After only a moment's hesitation, he rounds the counter and passes through the doorway, at which point he can hear Hob Gadling's voice singing along—"You don't have a clue/If you did you'd find yourself/Doin' the same thing too!"—beneath the music, passably on-key no less.

Yet another appealing feature to this man; it is simply unfair. Dream draws himself up, heart beating harder, and ventures around the large sink and cleanup station until he can see his Porsche, up on ramps, and—

And legs sticking out from beneath the side of it on one of those rolling boards, Hob Gadling's legs no doubt, spread wide like an invitation.

Dream stops abruptly, heat pouring into his belly; he takes a deep breath of the warm stuffy air, the machine-and-metal smell of the garage doing nothing to calm his libido. He stares, helplessly, at the work boots and coveralls, at where they stretch across Hob Gadling's crotch, affording frustratingly little suggestion of what lies beneath. And just above that, he can see that the coveralls are unzipped, not quite far enough to expose underwear but enough that Dream is treated to a glimpse of warm golden-brown belly and the dip of his navel, the dark sweep of hair above and below it.

—Mouthwatering—

It is with tremendous effort that Dream corrals his thoughts, steps forward again, closes the space between them and clears his throat to announce his presence. He nudges one booted foot with his own, not entirely meaning to do so but somehow unable to resist.

"Bloody—" The mechanic scoots out from beneath the car and Dream's knees go weak; he is grateful they do not give out altogether.

Hob Gadling is indeed shirtless beneath his open coveralls, displaying a chest far more gloriously hairy than Dream had imagined, a pelt thick and dark and alluring. He wants to touch, to comb his fingers through and rub his face against it, to lick the trail of hair that leads down to where the parted zipper comes back together. There is a visible sheen of sweat on his skin and Dream would lick that off as well; Hob is smudged with grease in various smears across his torso and forearms and Dream can hardly think for the rushing of blood in his ears, the swelling of want in the pit of his stomach. He drags his eyes back up to Hob's face, trying to school the ravenous hunger from his own gaze; he does not think he is overly successful in that regard but there is discernible heat in the warm brown eyes that meet him, and it is difficult to care about dignity, propriety, with reality unfolding so near to the fantasies that have carried him through the last ten days.

He stutters through some explanation for his presence, barely aware of his own words, barely registering the rundown he is given in return, watching hungrily as Hob climbs to his feet. His car will be finished tomorrow. He will have reason to see Hob again tomorrow. But right now he is unraveling, his self control a tenuous and threadbare thing barely within his grasp. He is watching Hob's mouth as he speaks, captivated, obsessed with the warm color of it flashing among the dark scruff of Hob's beard, and Dream wants to taste. His mouth, his skin, his cock, which is surely as magnificent as the rest of him—Dream cannot bear the thought of leaving without confirming his certainties, but it is one thing to revel in fantasy alone in his bed and quite another to actually act on it when faced with the man before him—

"Is there something else I can do for you today, Mr. Atelíotes?"

Hob Gadling is looking at him, hip cocked and coveralls alluringly open, smile just this side of invitational; there is the strong suggestion of interest and an implied offer in that warm tone and Dream's resolve, such as it is, crumbles.

He reaches. He touches. He speaks his want and follows with a flirtatious tease to mitigate his intensity, is met by teasing agreement in return, but when his mechanic mentions cleaning up first he absolutely cannot agree.

"No. As you are now, please." He steps closer, directly into Hob's space, a week and a half of fantasies clamoring in his mind as the scent of the man wafts into his nose—oil and grease, warm metal, sweat and a faint trace of citrus and a hint of some pleasantly masculine deodorant; Dream's mouth waters, and his prick throbs.

His mechanic hesitates. "I'm kind of filthy though?"

There is a tinge of shame beneath the words, and Dream. Will not have it.

"I am aware, yes," he purrs, seizing the open lapels of the grimy coveralls, and kisses Hob Gadling with ten days' worth of anticipation and want.

~

Dream is coasting on an adrenaline and endorphin high as he drives home, afterwards. He acted. He spoke directly of what he wanted. And he got it. He had spent ten days nursing fantasy and now he has experienced a delightful sliver of the reality of Hob Gadling.

And tomorrow, he will experience more.

Sleep does not come easily that night, keyed up and aroused as he is, but he manages at last. He wakes later than usual the next morning; he eats a light brunch, the excitement in his stomach counterproductive to the task, and makes sure to drink more water than usual. Thoughts of Hob fill his mind, arousing, distracting, enticing; he recalls with a sharp thrill the taste of Hob's pleasure on his tongue, and he is eager to be on his way to their appointment.

But there are things he must do to prepare, first.

He takes an enema, then shaves and showers, lathering everywhere with his sweetest-smelling soap, determined to be the polar opposite of what he lusts for in Hob. He strives for the cleanest prettiest and freshest he can get, the better to be taken and sullied and dirtied by his mechanic; Hob had seemed quite pleased with that dynamic yesterday and Dream is eager to repeat it with Hob's cock in his arse this time.

To that end, he employs a favorite dildo once he is clean and dry, lubing himself carefully and working himself open on the toy, mind blazing with thoughts of Hob all the while. He knows, now, the size and the shape (and the taste!) of Hob's prick, and he is giddy with the anticipation of having it inside him. He is salivating over how Hob compares to the dildo, how Hob will fill him just that much better, what filthy things Hob might say while taking his time over long slow thrusts, how good it will feel when Hob finally rails him without mercy—

He must force himself to stop, hard and panting as he withdraws the toy from his body. He sorts through his glass plugs quickly, finding the one he wants and fitting it carefully inside himself. It's broad enough to stretch him just a little more, perfectly flared to fit just right inside and out, short enough that he can bend and sit without discomfort. It's a beautiful tease, as a matter of fact, keeping him keyed up and aroused as he dresses himself, making him squirm just a little with every step as he gathers his condoms and his pocket-sized bottle of lube and his phone wallet and water, and leaves the house.

He composes himself over the two blocks he walks to the busier streets where he can hail a cab, steeling himself to normalcy in both movement and appearance while pleasure sings in his veins with every subtle shift of the toy within him. He is half-hard, hidden well enough by the loose cut of his slacks, and works to keep his thoughts from heating any further until he has reached his destination.

The cab drops him outside of Matthew's Motor Repairs and he pays, distracted and breathless with anticipation. Hob is there, inside, and Dream is certain that Hob is just as eager as he is for their rendezvous.

He hopes that Hob is just as eager.

Closed for walk-ins due to special circumstances, reads the hand-written sign taped to the glass of the shop door. Ring if you have an appointment.

Dream's heart plummets for half a second, until he remembers their parting conversation yesterday about appointments and showing up and fitting in. This sign is for him, surely, a blatant invitation.

He takes a breath to calm the excited pounding of his heart, squirms surreptitiously on the toy inside him, and rings the bell.

= Started: 5/15/24 Drafted: 7/27/24 Posted: 7/29/24

[winters-on-the-wing]

describing james based on how i look irl

(ik im probably glazing myself this is an exercise in self love)

soft brown skin, fairly even complexion, faint smile lines, soft jawline.

large, round, deep brown eyes, bright and gleaming, with long dark lashes.

a narrow nose that’s wide at the bottom, and a bit pointed.

soft pink lips and slightly yellow teeth, sharp canines.

wavy dark brown hair that gets messy and tangled very easily.

slim and rectangular in shape with a slight curve inwards at the waist and outwards at the hips. willowy arms and legs with a bit of muscle in the thighs and upper arms. prominent calf muscles. long and slender hands and feet with bitten nails and scratched up cuticles. lithe and graceful, with a princely posture.