#Thread Lift Surgery

[lasercosmesis]

What Is a Nose Thread Lift or String Rhinoplasty?

The nose is one of the focal points of anyone’s face, and the broken and missapne nose impacts upon one’s entire facial appearance, self-esteem and confidence as well. If you are one of them who is unhappy with your nose shape but doesn’t want to undergo the surgical procedure of rhinoplasty then this blog is for you. 

In Mumbai, Dr. Medha Bhave is a plastic surgeon renowned for providing affordable rhinoplasty surgery cost in Thane. By taking insights from the surgeon, this blog is going to share the benefits of nose thread lift or string rhinoplasty.

What Is A Nose Thread Lift?

A nose thread lift is a non-surgical, minimally invasive, and reversible nose shaping procedure. It is far less expensive than surgical rhinoplasty, though it does not provide long-term results with a single session. It requires upkeep and touch-ups.

Benefits of Nose Thread lift

Advantages of string rhinoplasty are as follows: 

It improves one’s ability to breathe

It repairs the injury of nose

Corrects a too much wide, long, crooked, or short nose

It corrects the nose hump

It improves the shape of nose 

Ideal Candidate for Nose Thread Lift

An ideal candidate for  nose thread lift surgery is one who wants to correct the nose shape but is afraid to undergo a surgical procedure for nose shape correction. 

What is the Lifespan of a Nose Thread Lift?

The procedure utilizes bio-absorbable threads, which typically dissolves between one and two years after the procedure is completed. If the procedure is repeated after 9 months, it may last longer or become permanent, depending on collagen stimulation in the nose.

Thread Lift Surgery Can Have Expected Results

The lunchtime nose job was developed and introduced over 15 years ago, but its popularity has recently increased. This low-cost and effective technique can be used to address a variety of cosmetic issues, including the following:

Nose Slimming- Although a PDO thread lift cannot change nose width, it can be used to give your nose a slimmer appearance by lifting the bridge slightly.

Nose Tip Lift - Possibly the most common reason for a nose thread lift, the nose tip lift technique is also extremely effective. A nose tip that points downwards makes the nose appear longer.

Nose Bridge Lift: A nose thread lift can help if you use the bridge on your nose to make it higher and look more defined.

Streamlining the Nose Ridge: Thread lifts can be used to reshape your nose tissue and give it a straighter appearance if you have a bump or a crooked nose.

Conclusion

Nose thread lift is a non-invasive alternative to rhinoplasty. In this procedure art of thread lift is used to correct the deformity of the nose and give it slimmer and longer shape. One wants to change the nose shape but afraid of invasive rhinoplasty can consider this method. String rhinoplasty requires period maintenance of the treated area. 

To learn more about this treatment you may visit Laser Cosmesis Clinic and schedule an appointment with Dr. Medha Bhave. She has extensive years of experience and is popular as the best plastic surgeon in Thane, Mumbai for various types of plastic surgeries ranging from rhinoplasty to breast reshaping, mommy makeover and more with the highest success rates. To avail the benefits, book a consultation now!

Original Source:- https://theomnibuzz.com/what-is-a-nose-thread-lift-or-string-rhinoplasty/

[renaissancemedspa]

Non-Surgical Face Lifting Treatment Colorado USA

Looking for a Non-Surgical Face Lifting Treatment in Colorado, USA? Renaissance Med Spa offers advanced, non-invasive solutions to lift, tighten, and rejuvenate your skin for a youthful glow.

[aesthetic2020]

Dermaplaning for Men

Looking for a way to achieve smoother, healthier skin? Discover dermaplaning for men at Aesthetic International, a non-invasive exfoliation treatment designed to remove dead skin cells and fine facial hair, leaving your skin looking rejuvenated and refreshed.

Why Choose Dermaplaning at Aesthetic International?

Expert Care: Our skilled aestheticians are trained in the latest dermaplaning techniques, ensuring a safe and effective treatment that enhances your skin’s texture and appearance.

Immediate Results: Experience instant improvements in skin smoothness and tone, making it an ideal choice for men looking to improve their skin health quickly.

Non-Invasive: This painless procedure requires no downtime, allowing you to return to your daily activities immediately after treatment.

Enhanced Absorption: By removing the top layer of dead skin cells, dermaplaning enhances the absorption of skincare products, maximizing their effectiveness.

Elevate your skincare routine with dermaplaning for men at Aesthetic International. Our commitment to high-quality care and personalized service ensures you achieve the best results possible.

Dermaplaning Treatment In Bangalore

Dreaming of having a baby-smooth complexion?

It is possible when you undergo a dermaplaning procedure at AESTHETIC INTERNATIONAL®.

This procedure is perfect for those who want to even out their complexion without the hassle of downtime.

It gives you the clearest and cleanest complexion of your life! Here are a few facts you need to know:

WHAT IS DERMAPLANING?

The dermablade hair removal procedure is an anti-aging skin care treatment – without the use of chemicals. It is a highly effective manual exfoliation technique that removes surface debris with a sterile, surgical scalpel (dermaplaning blade).

An aesthetician uses the scalpel while holding the skin taut, swiping the blade in gentle upward motions to gently “shave” the skin’s surface, removing the top-most layer of dead skin. The added bonus is the removal of the fine, vellus hair (aka peach fuzz), which makes the skin feel smoother. It does not cause trauma to the skin and can be performed every 3 to 4 weeks. There is typically no downtime for this procedure.

DERMAPLANING VS. MICRODERMABRASION

Both facial treatments are good options when looking for exfoliation to reveal a smoother complexion.

• Dermaplaning uses a small razor to gently rid the skin of dead skin cells. The light strokes gently remove built-up cells and fine hairs that can trap oil and dirt. The end result is a refreshed glow free of Vellus hair (“peach-fuzz”).

• Microdermabrasion uses a machine that buffs and polishes the skin in order to remove dead skin cells. This procedure also results in a refreshed look. After a series of treatments; it can reduce the look of wrinkles and unclog pores.

You should consult your dermatologist/aesthetician to discuss the benefits that each procedure would have for your skin type.

BENEFITS OF DERMAPLANING

• Provides deeper product penetration, • Removes soft facial hair that traps dirt and oils, • Promotes smoother skin, • Safe procedure for removing dead skin cells and “peach fuzz”, • Reduces the appearance of acne scars, • Diminishes the look of fine lines, and • Works on all skin types.

SIDE EFFECTS OF DERMAPLANING

The possible short-term side effects of the procedure may include:

��� The skin may be red and swollen, • It may appear scraped for several days, • Eating and talking may be difficult for a few days after the procedure, • Tingling, burning, or aching may occur, and • Swelling and scabbing may occur.

A dermaplane facial will leave your skin brighter, smoother, glowing, and more youthful. The only possible negative side effect of dermaplaning is that those with active pustular acne cannot undergo the procedure.

HOW LONG DOES DERMAPLANING LAST?

The procedure removes up to 3 weeks of dead skin cells that have accumulated. The results can last up to 4 weeks.

HOW OFTEN SHOULD YOU DERMABLADE YOUR FACE?

Once a month is recommended for the best results.

Visit Aesthetic International - Dermaplaning to learn more about our services and book your appointment today!

Tags: #Dermaplaning #MenSkincare #AestheticInternational #Exfoliation #HealthySkin

[metaglow1]

Morpheus8 Treatment: How Long Do They Really Last ?

Morpheus8 is a popular, minimally invasive treatment combining microneedling and radiofrequency to rejuvenate the skin and stimulate collagen production. But how long do the results of Morpheus8 last? The longevity of Morpheus8 results depends on several factors, including age, skin type, and maintenance routines. Regular follow-up sessions and proper skincare can extend the benefits. Many users report significant skin tightening, improved texture, and reduced fine lines and wrinkles, making Morpheus8 a favored choice for those seeking lasting, non-surgical laser skin rejuvenation treatment. 

Read More:- https://www.metaglow.com/how-long-does-morpheus8-last/

[alinathinkstoomuch]

LAP IT UP

18+ MDNI

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader summary: tweezing your boyfriend’s eyebrows is a totally valid excuse to make him come in his pants, right? warnings | an: dry-humping, power play, dom-ish reader / sub-ish hotch, hotch jizzes in his pants, hotch is a munch and a simp because it’s simply not possible for me to write anything else other than hotchypoo worshipping the ground u walk on!!!established relationship, mentions of sugar baby/daddy dynamic word count: 2.2k

✧ masterlist

“Can I do yours?” you asked, not bothering to shift the mirror as you cleaned up the stray hairs around your left brow.

There was a pause of silence, followed by the rustle of paperwork. Not nearly a sufficient response, so you gently kicked Aaron’s thigh in protest.

“Do my what?”

“Your eyebrows,” you answered, tilting your head as you inspected your reflection, trying to catch the last bit of sunlight streaming through the window. One brow was cooperating. The other looked like it had wandered off and joined a different face entirely.

“They’re not twins,” you muttered. “Barely sisters. Maybe even distant, resentful cousins.”

He made a quiet sound that might’ve been a laugh. “And what exactly are you implying about mine?”

“They could use a little TLC,” you argued lightly, leaning back to look at him over the mirror in your hand. “When was the last time you did them?”

He looked up from his files, one brow lifting—ironically. “I don’t make a habit of grooming my eyebrows.”

“Yeah…I can tell.”

That earned you the famous Hotchner scowl, though it had stopped working on you several scowls ago—right around the time you realised he was all bark and no bite. Or, at least, never with you.

Without another word, you dropped the mirror onto the coffee table and swung one leg over his, settling into his lap like it was your favourite seat…because it was. He stilled beneath you, body going just a little tense, like he wasn’t entirely sure where this was heading, but had no intention of stopping it.

“You’re not serious.”

“Deadly,” you replied, fingers already threading through the front of his hair. You tugged just enough to guide, making sure his head tipped back against the couch cushion. “Oof. Would you look at that, Hotchner, I think you’re starting to grow a monobrow.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“She needs to go. Quickly.” You leaned in, squinting like you were about to perform life-saving surgery and plucked a hair right from the middle of his brow before he had a chance to respond.

He flinched.

“Baby,” you teased, barely bothering to hide the laugh building in your throat. “You’re fine.”

“You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“Obviously. I’m in your lap, holding tweezers, and making you nervous. This is my peak.” Just as you plucked another hair, you felt his hands tighten slightly at your hips.

“Just be quick,” he muttered.

Yeah. There was just one small problem with that. Quick wasn’t in your plans tonight. Aaron might be the boss at work, but at home, it was you who got your way. Always had. And truthfully? You didn’t care all that much about his eyebrows. Or yours, for that matter.

You just really, really wanted to be in his lap.

You let the tweezers hover his face again as you pretended to search for another target.

“Hm…nope, that one’s got character. Can’t lose it.”

He huffed. “You’re not even trying anymore.”

“I am,” you insisted, all sickly-sweet innocence as you adjusted your grip on his shoulders, letting your fingers toy with the collar of his polo. “Just want to make sure they’re perfect.”

He cracked one eye open. “Mh-hm.”

“What? You want me to do a half-assed job? You want uneven arches, Aaron?”

“You’ve got two minutes left.”

Silly man. As if you were on his clock.

You said nothing, just hummed like the consummate professional you clearly were, smoothing out his right brow with the pad of your finger. And then—because comfort was key, obviously—you shifted. Absolutely not intentionally aligning yourself with the zipper of his jeans.

You caught the half-shaky exhale he tried to hide and decided it still didn’t feel quite right.

Goldilocks might’ve had a point.

So you adjusted again, this time with a little more pressure. For once, you were grateful for the humidity that made you choose a dress—and the skimpiest, thinnest pair of underwear you owned.

All, of course, in the name of practicality.

His hands twitched at your waist, fingers flexing like he was stuck between wanting to grip you tighter or stay neutral. (Spoiler: he was failing at staying neutral.)

“This all part of the grooming experience?”

“Me taking my time? Absolutely. You know I give a hundred percent to everything I do, baby.”

"I know, honey," he drawled. "You've called me baby twice in the last three minutes. That's usually when you want something."

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

He smiled—subtle, smug, and, annoyingly, entirely correct. Because, yes, okay, you did want something. Just... nothing that came with a price tag. This time.

"What is it?" he asked, utterly unbothered because he was synced up to you in that way that meant nothing you said, did, or asked of him could really surprise him anymore. "Vacation days? Shoes? I told you, you don't have to ask. The wallet's in the drawer."

You gave his hair another tug, guiding his head back to the couch cushions like you were placing something delicate. “You know there’s actually a government term for what you’re implying right now.”

“Yeah?”

His eyes drifted closed again, and he looked so… soft. Almost unarmoured. Breakable in the gentlest way. The tension that usually lived in his jaw, his brow, his posture—gone. Off choosing a different victim for the day.

Lit by the delicate setting sun, he looked—

Angelic.

Almost too pure for what you had planned.

Because while he was just trying to finish a stack of paperwork, you were trying to survive the throb between your legs. And your dress, as helpful as it was in theory, wasn’t offering enough friction to solve anything. So you decided to do what any self-respecting sinner would.

You were going to drag him down a little closer to your level.

Make him less divine, and a little more yours.

“Sugar baby,” you blurted, remembering you were mid-conversation and should probably at least pretend you were behaving. “That’s the term. Is that what you’re implying I am?”

He grinned.

And then he was the one to adjust—lifting his hips just as his hands pressed you down harder against him, guiding you into him.

You clamped your mouth shut, eyes fluttering as the pressure hit exactly where you needed it.

He opened his eyes then, and you did your best to keep a straight face. (Spoiler: you were the one failing this time.)

“You think I’d reduce you to that?”

You reached for the tweezers again, if only for something to do, dragging a lazy finger across his brow like you were still pretending to care about symmetry. “You did say the wallet’s in the drawer.”

“I did.” His grip tightened just enough at your waist to make your thighs instinctively clench around him, something you knew he felt. “But that’s because I’d give you anything you ever wanted without expecting anything in return.”

You pouted, feeling the buttons of his polo brush against your nipples, because, yes, humidity had also declared it a no-bra day, and yes, you were prepared to weaponize it. “So you don’t want my sugar?”

“I want all of you,” he corrected.  “Every part.”

Of course he was still angelic about it—still saying all the right things, still making it a priority to remind you of your worth, even while you were actively plotting how to make him finish in his jeans.

Rude.

But also righteous.

And still better than you deserved…which will only make this all the more satisfying.

You blinked down at him, lips parted, a slow breath pulling into your lungs as the weight of his words landed somewhere deep between your legs.

“You’re really not going to let me be shallow for five minutes, huh?” Your fingers slipped from his brow to his throat, thumb brushing his pulse just to feel how not calm he actually was.

“No,” he said simply, shaking his head. “You’re not shallow. Just a little needy.”

You hummed like that wasn’t already obvious, like the need hadn’t soaked straight through your panties and probably left a trail somewhere along your thigh by now. Still, for the sake of appearances you brought the tweezers to his brow again.

“Hold still,” you murmured, right as you bucked your hips into him.

You felt his hands slip beneath your dress, rough and warm against bare skin as they roamed—up your thigh, your lower back, your spine.

“I said hold still,” you repeated, the smile in your voice completely ruining the authority you hoped to fake.

He did the opposite.

His hands kept traveling up your back, and you dropped the tweezers altogether, your hands settling on his shoulders as you forced yourself to grind against him, feeling not just the zipper, but the outline of his hard cock, straining like a sin he hadn’t meant to commit.

“Fuck,” you breathed, the word breaking apart in your throat like glass.

Your lips latched onto the skin beneath his jaw, feeling his skittish pulse under your tongue as you sucked and smoothed over the sting. Aaron’s grip on your neck tightened—a weak, almost pathetic attempt to tame you, to reel you back in, just so he could reclaim a fraction of the control you had stolen.

“This was never about my eyebrows, was it?”

You didn’t answer. Didn’t care to. Instead, your teeth scraped lightly over the hickey you were hoping would linger, hips working against him like the truth being unveiled—not the sweet thing he thought you were, but a wicked woman who knew exactly how to get what she wanted.

“You’re not even listening,” he said again, a breathless laugh ghosting across your temple, cut off by the groan that followed when your hips met his just right. “Too busy getting yourself off.”

“Pretty and smart,” you mumbled lazily, the friction turning sharper, your clit throbbing now with every slow drag over the rough fabric of his pants.

His hands slipped under the neckline of your dress, tugging the top down with the sort of confidence that didn’t match his frantic breathing or the way his hips were stuttering into yours.

You pulled back from the crook of his neck, only because now it was his turn.

Aaron’s eyes dropped, and for a moment, he just stared like he couldn’t decide where to put his hands. Then he leaned in, mouth closing around your nipple, lips warm, tongue flicking once, then again, until you gasped and arched into him.

You were close. So close. Though truthfully, most of the build-up hadn’t been physical—it was all mental. The way he looked at you, like you were something delicate, something good. In the way he still hadn’t figured it out, even when you’d pranced past him with the tweezers and the mirror, settling beside him on the couch, legs draped up, spreading just enough to make sure he saw exactly what was on offer.

You could’ve asked. Told him exactly what you wanted and he would’ve done it in a heartbeat. You knew that. He loved to take care of you. He always had.

But where was the thrill in asking, when it was so much sweeter to watch him give in?

And you began to pick up on just that.

The way his breath caught against your nipple, the scrape of his teeth getting less careful.

The way his hands clutched tighter at every piece of skin he could reach. The way he started meeting your hips with his own. Slow at first, then harder, like this had been his idea to begin with.

You kept moving and so did he, the friction messy and desperate between you. His head dropped forward, breath stuttering out against your collarbone, his hands squeezing your waist.

Then his hips jerked up into yours, your name falling from his lips in a voice he almost never used. His body tensed one last time, and then you felt it—the heat flooding between you, a groan torn from his throat as he came.

Your greed had been satisfied.

And with one more roll of your hips—feeling his release spread beneath you, mixing with your own slickness—that was all it took to tip you over the edge. Your body locked down, fingers digging into his shoulders as your orgasm hit, splintering and all-consuming.

You didn’t move from him immediately, hands now toying with the collar of his polo as you caught your breath.

“Happy?” he mumbled against your skin, voice still rough around the edges.

You lifted your head, the curve of your smile slow and smug. “Very.”

You expected him to stay soft beneath you—to let you linger, revel in the mess you’d made of him.

But instead, his hands slid to your hips again, and before you could react, he was lifting you off his lap in one fluid motion, placing you down in his seat as he stood over you.

Your legs dangled off the edge, dress still bunched around your waist, thighs glistening with wetness. You pushed yourself up slightly, elbows braced behind you for balance, about to ask what he was doing, pausing just long enough to admire the wet patch on his jeans.

But your confusion melted into a shit-eating grin as you watched him lower himself to his knees in front of you. Though something told you that whatever he was about to do wouldn’t be for your sake, but for his.

And that control you were so desperate to keep?

It was practically nonexistent now—crumbling at a breathtaking pace, resting in the same hands that were sliding your soaked panties down your thighs.

tags - @fandomscombine @pastelpinkflowerlife @hazzyking @bernelflo @risenqueen1521 @jazzimac1967 @camihotchner @abschaffer2 @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @pacmillo-blog-blog @stilestotherescue @kiwriteswords @anvdala @supersanelyromantic @yourallaround-simp @percysley

[iamgonnagetyouback]

practice makes a surgeon perfect⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ㅤㅤ●ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ remus lupin

the evening is slow, the kind that stretches between the golden lamplight and the hush of a world at rest. you’re curled up on the couch, a book open in your lap, but your eyes keep flickering toward the man beside you.

remus is quiet, fresh from a shower, his hair still slightly damp, his body dressed in the soft familiarity of an old sweater and sweatpants. there’s something so comforting about him like this, settled and warm, but there’s also a hesitance to him tonight, a pause in the way his fingers tap absently against his knee.

then, a breath. a clearing of his throat.

“can i practice something?”

your brow lifts. “that depends,” you say, closing your book slightly. “what are you practicing?”

he rubs the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. “braiding.”

the answer catches you off guard, but not unpleasantly so. “my hair?”

he nods. “if you don’t mind.”

it’s such a simple request, but the thought of his hands in your hair, of him sitting here with you, so quiet and careful, makes something tender unfurl in your chest.

you shift slightly, gathering your hair over one shoulder before glancing up at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. “go ahead, doctor.”

the couch dips as he moves closer. then, the first touch—his fingers threading through your hair, warm and steady. he’s careful, dividing the strands with an almost reverent gentleness, and yet there’s something sure about the way he handles you, like he’s done this before.

his breath is soft against your shoulder, his touch delicate, and you let your eyes drift shut for a moment, allowing yourself to sink into the warmth of it.

“that’s cute,” you murmur.

he hums in acknowledgment. “what is?”

“that you’re practicing.” a smile tugs at your lips. “is it for our future daughter?”

there’s the slightest pause, his fingers hesitating before continuing their careful work.

“no,” he says simply.

your brow furrows, curiosity blooming. “no?”

his fingers tighten slightly around the strands, barely noticeable. “not exactly.”

you grin. “oh, is it for other girls, then?” the question is meant to be teasing, lighthearted, but the moment it leaves your mouth, you feel the way he stills, just for a second.

“of course not.” his voice is steady, but there’s something in it—something firm, like the idea itself is absurd.

you blink, tilting your head slightly. “then who—”

“it’s for my patients.”

the world stills.

you shift slightly, trying to see his face. “what?”

he doesn’t stop braiding, fingers moving with quiet precision. “the little girls before their surgeries,” he explains. “they can’t go into the or with loose hair—it has to be tied back. but some of them don’t know how, or their parents aren’t there to do it for them.” he pauses. “so i do it.”

and just like that, your heart aches.

you can see it now. small girls, nervous in their hospital gowns, sitting on the edge of their beds with their hands clasped tightly in their laps. and then there’s remus—soft-spoken, gentle, kneeling in front of them, carefully weaving their hair into neat braids before surgery. talking to them in that quiet, steady way of his, making sure they feel safe.

“remus.” your voice is barely above a whisper.

he ties off the braid at the end of your hair, his thumb grazing your shoulder in a lingering touch.

“it helps,” he says simply. “gives them something familiar. makes things a little less scary.”

something inside you shatters—not in a painful way, but in a way that makes it hard to breathe, hard to hold the sheer depth of your love for him inside your chest.

without thinking, you turn, shifting onto your knees to face him fully. he looks at you, confused at first, but there’s a quiet patience in his expression, a willingness to let you feel whatever this is.

your hands lift before you even realize it, fingers brushing along the sharp edge of his jaw, tracing the warmth of him, memorizing the way he feels beneath your touch.

“you are unbelievable,” you whisper, voice thick.

his lips twitch slightly. “am i?”

you nod, your fingers curling lightly at the nape of his neck. “you sit there and tell me something like that, like it’s nothing, like it’s just some casual part of your day—” you pause, shaking your head. “and you don’t even realize—”

he exhales a quiet laugh, tilting his head slightly. “realize what?”

“that i love you,” you say simply, honestly, achingly.

a breath. just a small, quiet moment before his eyes soften completely, something tender and endless settling into them.

he doesn’t say anything at first. he just looks at you, really looks at you, and then his hand lifts, fingers ghosting along your cheek, the side of your neck, your shoulder—like he’s committing you to memory.

and then, slowly, he leans in, pressing his lips to yours in the kind of kiss that says everything.

it’s slow, gentle, something deep and unshakable, something that lingers. he kisses you like he’s trying to make sure you understand, like he’s trying to return every ounce of feeling you’ve just given him.

when you finally pull away, your forehead rests against his, your breaths mingling in the small space between you.

“you’re ridiculous,” you whisper, smiling.

“in the most absurdly sweet way possible.”

he huffs a small laugh, eyes crinkling. “it’s just braiding.”

“no, remus,” you say, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb tracing along his cheek. “it’s you being the best damn person i know.”

his expression softens, something warm and unspoken flickering in his gaze.

and when he kisses you again, it feels like home.

a/n. inspired by this reel on instagram. fell in love with remus all over again ‹𝟹

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work

[deepspace-scenarios]

[Scenario/drabble] dreaming anywhere

LIs react to you accidentally falling asleep in random places. (It's never really about napping with them)

Genre: Fluff; Tw: suggestiveness

SYLUS

The garage lights flicker as Sylus finds you slumped against his car, fast asleep.

"Tired already, kitten?" His gloved finger traces your jaw gently, lips curling when you jerk awake. "I could think of... better places to sleep."

You stubbornly straighten your dress. "I was just waiting for someone to finish their call. I'm ready to go anytime."

He adjusts your necklace, voice dropping to a purr. "Then stay awake. Or I'll have to...stimulate you during bidding."

You gawk at him. He would never- on second thought, you can never fully anticipate what he has up his sleeve.

He unlocks his car, and you slide into the passenger seat, cheeks tinged pink.

"Public displays aren't usually my taste - but I'll make an exception if you start snoring."

As the engine roars to life, he keeps one hand on your thigh. "Eyes open, sweetie. Unless this is you giving me permission for creative ways to keep you awake along the way there,"

"I'm awake, Sylus!"

He laughs, voice like honey. "Good."

_____

XAVIER

Xavier finds you dozing against the refrigerator, cheek smushed against a magnet.

"My love," he murmurs, his warmth engulfing you in an embrace. "You're up so early,"

You mumble sleepy protests as he lifts you effortlessly.

"The kettle can wait." He carries you back to bed, pausing when you cling to his sweater.

"I wan’ make tea..." you slur, your head already hitting the pillow.

His laughter vibrates through you as he tucks the blanket around your shoulders.

"It’s 7am on a Sunday. You still have all day to make tea."

His lips brush your forehead.

"Dream of sweeter things than chamomile."

_____

RAFAYEL

The outdoor swing on the porch creaks as Rafayel discovers you curled up on the plush bench, hugging a blanket to shield yourself from the crisp air of dawn.

"Aww cutie!" He says with a grin, snapping a photo before draping himself over you like a human blanket. The bench wobbles. "Abandoning our sunrise mission?"

You stir as he nuzzles your neck. "Raf, the sunrise-"

"Is still a torturous seven minutes away," he interrupts, kissing your cheek. “We can sleep here,”

When you protest, he rolls onto his back to pull you on top of him. Your face is smothered by his soft cotton pyjamas, and you mumble into the fabric. ”I can do seven minutes-“

"Objection! We'll watch the sunset instead. Can’t have my cutie being tired… Not when she had to be my bodyguard for the entirety of yesterday," His fingers thread through yours as the waves wash onto the sandy shore.

"And if you sleep through that too...I'll find you in your dreams and meet you there."

_____

ZAYNE

You managed to make the last train with Zayne, the hectic schedule at Chansia almost causing you to stay back. Both Zayne and you wouldn't have minded if the next day was a day off from work, but you have a mission briefing, and he has a surgery to perform.

The lights of the tunnel turn into a mesmerising blur of orange and white patterns, lulling you close to sleep.

You blink hard, propping your chin up on your palms with your elbow on the table. You take a sip of your iced tea.

The next thing you know, the world starts to slip back into a hazy blur as your eyelids grow heavy, and heavier still-

You try to fight off the sleepiness.

Take- take just one more sip of-

Zayne's pen stills when your iced tea straw slips from slack lips.

The train rattles past Chansia's outskirts as he carefully removes the cup before your chin can hit the table.

"Stubborn," he mutters - but his arm settles around you, guiding your head to his shoulder.

“M’not,” you mumble drowsily, but his touch is insistent, and you find your final resolve melt into exhaustion.

His coat smells faintly of fabric softener as you nuzzle closer.

"One hour until Linkon Station," he informs you. The city lights streak across the window as he adds, almost too softly for you to hear. "Rest well."

You muster up the final strength to speak, the weight of sleep making it hard to form any sounds- “Wha'bou you Zayne-”

You hear a faint sound, maybe a huff of air akin to a laugh.

“Stop trying to speak. Just sleep,”

He presses a quick kiss to the crown of your head, and you relent, letting him hold you close as the train rattles on.

_____

CALEB

Caleb's footsteps thud closer as he finds you sprawled, asleep, on the yoga mat. He drops a bag of convenience store snacks on the coffee table before kneeling next to you.

"Meditating or having an early night?" he teases, poking your side.

You startle, and you swat at him- but he pins your arm down effortlessly. "Cute."

“I got tired waiting for you to come back, it's 10pm!”

“And who was it that requested snacks at 9:30?” He asks, leaning in and reaching to tickle you.

“Ca-caleb! Hey-” You squirm, and his grin turns sharper as he watches you.

"Alright now, pipsqueak," he says slowly, his tickling morphing into a soft grip on your arm. “Stop that before I decide to do something else with you-”

“You're the one trying to tickle m-” Your retort dies as he presses a quick kiss to your lips.

“I'm serious. Don't let me get sidetracked,” he murmurs as he pulls back reluctantly. He hauls you up in one smooth motion, scooping you into his arms and settling you onto the couch.

“Snacks, delivered as promised.” He tosses you a pack of grape gummies with a wink.

You catch it and open the packet, handing one to him. “And what if I want you to get sidetracked?”

He pauses, a hand lightly guiding your wrist as he leans down in front of you, his eyes losing their playful glimmer. His lips brush your fingertips as he eats the gummy.

Then he sits next to you.

“Come here,” he says, voice low as he pulls you in. “Napping while I get you snacks, then not wanting snacks or a nap and asking me to get sidetracked instead… pipsqueak, you're spoiled rotten,”

“It's someone's fault, not mine-”

He kisses you, letting you taste the candy as he deepens the kiss.

Spoiled rotten, indeed.

[mdbariaticcosmeticsurgery]

How To Know That You Are A Good Candidate For Face Lift Surgery?

There are a number of cosmetic surgical methods to enhance your look and make your appearance attractive. One of the methods of facelift surgery is a surgical method in the cosmetic industry that makes you look younger and reduces the sagging skin. A facelift is also known as a ‘rhytidectomy,’ which helps smooth skin folds on the cheeks and jawline. During a facelift treatment, a flap on both sides of the face is pulled back. The face tissues are altered, and the excess amount of skin is removed, giving a more youthful look. A neck lift is done as a part of a facelift treatment which removes the extra sagging skin from the neck. Cosmetic surgery is becoming increasingly popular all around the globe. Whether you are in the fashion or glamor industry, all age groups want to improve their aesthetic appearance. Read more here:- https://www.evernote.com/shard/s359/sh/aa6520c8-40a1-f986-943a-90dff51b0f8a/byPMM6e2lhqsZ-fBqyOdPzDtbhJMIj5fvZReHvRoD-Z1d-bAxja048s9GQ

[rafeslvbug]

your last little blurb was so cute!! could you do one that corresponds to it about when nfl!rafe hurt his leg and he cried and let reader help him for weeks??

(i’ve done smthing similar when he injured his leg while married, but for this one i’ll do a dating short blurb <3)

you’d nearly dropped all your books in your haste to get to rafe, who his friend said was in the locker room. when you got there, books still in your hand luckily, you settled upon the sight of rafe, red-eyed, tears streaming down his face and clutching his knee.

“oh rafe..baby, what’s happened?” you ask, concerned when you put aside your books, kneeling in front of him to wipe away his tears and ease his frustration. you lean forward, hugging him so he can let out his tears onto your shoulder.

“did my fuckin’ knee in,” he says hoarsely, clinging onto his voice as it threatens to break with the weight of his tears.

you curse under your breath, pulling away and fumbling around in your bag for your car keys, making sure you have them before turning to rafe’s friend. “can you help me get him to the car?”

“no- no baby, i’m gonna be okay, we don’t need to–” rafe begins to argue, reaching back out to you, but his friend’s already supporting his bad side, and you just shoot him a sharp look as if to say this was not up for argument. so he sighed, reluctantly accepting help.

-

the hospital wait was long and boring, but you filled it with incessant rambles that rafe was more than happy to listen to, head turned to the side to look at you in the waiting chair beside him.

after undergoing a minor knee surgery, rafe had to stay the night at the hospital, and despite his plea that you go home and get some proper rest, you stayed by his side. you got him water when he needed it, made sure he had better food than the shitty hospital food, and comforted him throughout.

you held his hand, even accepted his demand that you join him in the hospital bed because the chairs were too uncomfortable. you watched his favourite show together on your phone, even let him fall asleep on your chest.

-

he had to walk around school with crutches, but most of the time you’d rush to get him something so he didn’t strain himself unnecessarily. rafe sighed whenever you did this, he’d demand that he could do it alone, he had to do it alone. but you always called him out for being stupid, handing him the water bottle he wanted to walk across the class for.

“i’m just sayin’, i’m not useless baby, i can do this stuff, you don’t have to start takin’ care of me, i take care of you,” he murmurs while you’re laying in bed at night. you had just helped him get dressed, although he felt embarrassed the whole way through.

“rafe you’re injured. it’s okay that you can’t take care of me right now, i want to help you, you deserve it too,” you answer, resting your chin on his chest as you look up at him. “so stop being stupid.”

his face breaks into a smile, lifting his head from his pillow. “ya calling me stupid, sweetcheeks?”

“yeah, you are.”

“huh?” he drops his head back down onto the pillow. “alright i’m stupid, ya gonna teach me baby?”

“teach you what?” you giggle, letting his arms come around you as you move up, careful to avoid hitting his knee

“anything, make me clever,” he plays along, hand lifting to your cheek.

“okay then, let’s teach you how to accept the fact that you’re gonna be staying with me for the next few weeks.”

his brows furrow, then he shakes his head. “nah, i can’t stay with you i’d be a bur–”

“burden? nope, not having it. we’re here to teach you honey, we don’t have time for this. i’ll just move in here if you don’t stay with me.”

rafe looks like he might say something snarky, might brush you off, instead he just smiles, nodding his head. “alright then, considered me educated, gotta trust you for everythin’ huh?”

“hm yeah, that’s the idea.”

rafe pulls you down onto his chest again, hand threading through your hair and a content smile on his face, knowing you’ll be there for him through anything, even his perceived weakness.

taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616 @csturnioloswifey @silkylovey @mak1777 @rafesapple @octoberbxbyy

[littlelamy]

"she stole my board wax again. swear to god, next time i’m gonna glue her fins together." you’re barely listening—it's so hard to focus as his hands are on your back, threading the strings of your bikini like he’s doing surgery, and your brain’s gone foggy from it. his fingers brush your spine and your breath hitches, chest rising too quick.

“baby,” he mutters, amused, “you’re twitching like i’m torturing you, it’s just a bow.”

you hum, almost embarrassed, eyes fluttering shut. “just feels nice.”

rafe chuckles under his breath. “you get this soft every time i touch your back?”

“just when you do it like that.”

“like what?” he ties the bow snug, pulls it just enough to make the knot hold, and lets his palm drag down once more—teasing. “like this?”

you squirm, laugh breathlessly. “yes—rafe, come on…”

“mm hm...not my fault you’re sensitive,” he grins, stepping around to face you. his hands falling to your waist, holding you tightly. “you done melting now?”

you shake your head, smiling.

“too bad.” he lifts you, your legs around his hips before you can squeak, and he kisses you hard to breathing you in.

when he pulls back, his voice is rough. “you’re fuckin’ cute, you know that?” you nod, all dizzy.

“sarah can steal all the wax she wants,” he mutters. “i’ve got you.”

❤︎ tags below

@rafesbabygirlx @namelesslosers @drewsephrry @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @rafedaddy01 @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @lil-sparklqueen @rafessweetgirl @esquivelbianca @p45510n4f4shi0n @palomavz @cokewithcameron @donaldsonsgirl @yncoded @lilbunnysfics @solaceluna @icaqttt @alphabetically-deranged @bevstofu @wintercrows @emluvsuxo @rafestoothbrush @cadhlabear @st8rkey

[renaissancemedspa]

Achieve a Youthful Look with Face Lifting Treatment in Colorado Springs

Are you looking for a Face Lifting Treatment in Colorado Springs that delivers youthful, rejuvenated skin without going under the knife?

At Renaissance Med Spa, we specialize in Face Lift Without Surgery, helping clients restore their skin’s firmness and elasticity through advanced, non-invasive procedures.

What is a Non-Surgical Face Lift?

A Face Lift Without Surgery is a minimally invasive procedure designed to lift and tighten sagging skin, reduce fine lines, and improve facial contours. Unlike traditional facelifts, these treatments require little to no downtime, allowing you to achieve a natural, refreshed appearance quickly.

Face Thread Lift Near Me in Colorado Springs

One of the most effective non-surgical treatments we offer is the Face Thread Lift. This procedure involves placing dissolvable threads under the skin to lift sagging areas, promoting collagen production and improving skin texture over time. If you're searching for a Face Thread Lift Near Me in Colorado Springs, Renaissance Med Spa provides expert care with outstanding results.

Benefits of Non-Surgical Face Lifting Treatments

Immediate Lifting Effect – See instant improvements in skin tightness and contour.

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Minimally Invasive – No large incisions or extended recovery periods.

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  WHY CHOOSE RENAISSANCE MED SPA?

Customized Treatment Plans

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[meadowfics]

night embrace

cho hyun ju x f!reader

warnings: minors do not interact!! 18+. smut smut smut. pre-bottom surgery!hyunju. implied cockwarming.

it's the darkest hour in the morning, 3am to be exact.

your eyes flutter open, heavy with sleep that clings like a damp cotton on soft skin. the room is dark, the only light a faint silver thread from the moon sneaking through the blinds.

you're exhausted, limbs leaden, but your body hums with a restless heat. beside you, hyun ju sleeps, her breath a soft rhythm against the quiet.

the queen-sized bed feels like a universe, yet you're pressed so close her warmth seeps into your skin. your fiancee's arm drapes loosely over your waist, fingers twitching in dreams.

you shift, seeking more of her.

your hips nudge backward, your butt grazing the front of her pelvis. she's warm there, soft yet firm, her body a familiar map you love to trace.

the contact sparks something aka a slow burn that curls low in your belly. you press closer, deliberate now, the curve of your ass nestling against her.

she stirs, a sleepy hum vibrating in her throat. hyunju's arm tightens, pulling you flush against her chest.

the woman's breasts, soft through her thin cotton tank top, press into your back.

"mmhm," she murmurs, voice thick with sleep, lips brushing your ear. hyunju's breath is hot, sending a shiver down your spine. you feel her waking, her body responding where you're pressed together.

your fiancee's cock, still soft but stirring, nudges against you through her sleep shorts. the sensation makes your thighs clench, a pulse of want threading through your tiredness.

you wiggle your hips, teasing, and she groans softly.

hyunju's hand slides down, fingers splaying over your stomach, dipping just under the waistband of your panties.

"is this what you wanted?" she whispers, but there's a smile in her voice. the woman's tired touch is lazy, unhurried, like she's savoring the haze of everything.

you arch into her hand, craving more, and she obliges, her fingers slipping lower to find you already slick.

"fuck, you're wet," she breathes, and the raw edge in her voice makes your core tighten. hyunju's fingers circle your clit, slow and deliberate, each stroke a spark that builds the tension in your lower stomach.

you gasp, head tilting back against her shoulder, exposing your neck. she takes the invitation, lips grazing your skin, then teeth, a gentle nip that makes you whimper.

the ex-marine's cock is harder now, pressing insistently against your ass, and you grind back, eliciting a low moan from her.

"hyun ju," you whisper, voice trembling with need.

she shifts, guiding you to roll onto your stomach, her body following to hover over you. the bed creaks softly, the only sound besides your mingled breaths.

she tugs your panties down, just enough to bare you, and you hear the rustle of her sleep shorts as she frees herself. hyunju's hands grip your hips, lifting you slightly, and you feel her skin against yours, warm and alive.

she leans down, kissing the nape of your neck, her hair tickling your shoulders.

"you want this?" she asks, her cock sliding against your slick folds, teasing but not entering. the tip rests just outside of your core.

the question is a ritual, a check-in, even in this drowsy haze. you nod, pushing back against her, and she chuckles, the sound low and warm.

"please," you murmur, and that's all she needs. she presses forward, slow, so slow, her cock stretching you inch by inch. the sensation is overwhelming. it is so full, tight, perfect.

you moan into the pillow, fingers clutching the sheets.

hyunju is gentle, mindful of the hour, but each thrust is deep, deliberate, like she's pouring herself into you. the taller woman's breath hitches, a soft curse slipping out as she finds a rhythm.

the room feels smaller now, the air thick with heat and want. Hyunju's hands roam your body with one sliding under your shirt to cup your breast, thumb brushing your nipple, the other gripping your hip to guide her thrusts.

each movement is almost dreamlike, but the pleasure is sharp, cutting through the fog of sleep.

you feel every inch of her, the way she fills you, the way her body molds to yours.

"y-you feel so good," she whispers, her voice rough with desire. she leans forward, her chest against your back, and the angle shifts, her cock hitting deeper.

you cry out, muffled by the pillow, your body trembling. hyunju's lips find your shoulder, kissing, sucking, leaving faint marks that will bloom by morning.

the intimacy of it with her weight, her scent, and her soft gasps just makes your heart ache with love.

you reach back, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her closer. she groans, thrusts growing slightly harder, though still restrained, like she's savoring every second.

your climax builds slowly, a tide rising, each stroke pushing you closer. hyunju's hand slips between your legs again, fingers finding your clit, and the dual sensation is too much.

you arch, gasping her name, and she murmurs encouragements, her voice a velvet thread in the dark.

"let go for me, baby," she says, and you do, the orgasm washing over you like a warm wave. it's intense, almost quiet, your body shuddering beneath her as you clench around her cock.

she moans, low and desperate, her thrusts faltering as she chases her own release.

you feel her tense, her breath catching, and then she's coming, warmth spilling inside you, her body trembling against yours.

for a moment, there's only the sound of your breathing, heavy and synced. she collapses onto you, careful not to crush you, her arms wrapping around your waist.

hyun ju's cock softens inside you, but neither of you moves, content in the sticky, sated closeness.

she kisses your shoulder, soft and reverent, and you turn your head, seeking her lips.

the kiss is slow, tender, tasting of sleep and love.

"I love you," she mumbles, already half-asleep again, her voice fading into the dark.

you smile, exhaustion pulling you under, your bodies still entwined. the bed feels like a haven, the world beyond it irrelevant.

you drift off, her warmth anchoring you.

masterlist

[aesthetic2020]

Best Hair Transplant Clinic in Bangalore

Are you struggling with hair loss and looking for a reliable solution? Visit Aesthetic International, the best hair transplant clinic in Bangalore, where our expert team is dedicated to providing effective hair restoration treatments to help you regain a full and natural-looking head of hair.

Why Choose Aesthetic International for Hair Transplants?

Experienced Specialists: Our team of skilled surgeons and technicians specialize in hair transplant procedures, ensuring precision and high-quality results.

Advanced Techniques: We utilize the latest hair transplant technologies, such as Follicular Unit Extraction (FUE), to provide minimally invasive and highly effective treatments.

Personalized Care: Every patient receives a customized treatment plan tailored to their unique needs and hair restoration goals.

Natural Results: Our focus is on achieving natural-looking results that enhance your appearance and boost your confidence.

Hair Transplant In Bangalore

For many Hair represents attractiveness and desirability, both personally and professionally. Studies show that 40% of men show signs of pattern baldness or thinning hair by age 35 and 65% by age 60. While roughly 50% of women will experience hair loss in their lifetime.

There are different causes of hair loss mainly are genetic or hereditary; nutritional deficiency; Lifestyle related; stress (physical or mental); smoking; Lifestyle; Dietary habits and stress are very important causative factors in millennials.

Apart from these there are some skin conditions which are important to be ruled out in cases of hair loss and also some diseases not related to skin can also cause hair loss. Which requires medical treatment than hair transplant.

Your surgeon will guide you properly if you are a candidate for hair transplant or not as early cases of hair loss can be reversed by medical therapy and on other hand few cases of baldness will not get benefit out of hair transplant. There are few conditions to rule out and type alopecia to be diagnosed for which hair transplant surgeon should assess you clinically.

AM I AN APPROPRIATE CANDIDATE FOR HAIR TRANSPLANT?

Hair Transplant procedure is done if:

• The patient’s hair has thinned considerably over time • You have experienced massive hair fall and balding • You have a receding hairline • You have lost some hair from a burn or scalp injury/scar

BENEFITS

• It can help to restore hair growth in areas where there is little or no hair. • It can help to give the appearance of a fuller head of hair. • It can help to improve self-esteem and confidence. • It can help to give the illusion of a younger appearance. • It is a relatively safe and effective surgical procedure.

ABOUT THE PROCEDURE

Hair transplant is a procedure in which persons own hair are been transposed from one side to the area of baldness so that they can cover the bald area and grow naturally where they are been transposed.

There are two methods for this FUE Follicular unit extraction in which each graft is punched out individually and transplanted to new area

FUT Follicular Unit Transplantation in which strip of skin from back side of the head is cut and each follicle is separated and transplanted in new area.

After transplantation follicles develop their own blood supply from the blood vessels of new area in 5-7 days and once they have their own blood supply they can grow naturally.

Donor area: from where hair grafts are taken are Scalp; Beard and Body hair (chest mainly) they are always taken in such a way that area from where they are taken is also not obviously noticeable.

Following hair transplant it is advisable to undergo medical treatment and regenerative treatment for maintenance of hairs (existing and transplanted).

FUE v/s FUT

FUE: Follicular Unit Extraction: FUE is a minimally invasive hair transplant procedure that involves extracting individual hair follicles from the donor area of the scalp and grafting them into the recipient area. The procedure needs two operations: first, the surgeon harvests the hair follicles from the donor area; second, the surgeon transplants the follicles into the recipient area.

FUE doesn’t leave obvious linear scar on back of the head.

Follicular Unit Transplantation: FUT is a hair transplantation procedure in which a strip of hair-bearing scalp is removed and the individual hairs are then transplanted to the balding area. The first step in FUT is to remove a strip of hair-bearing skin from the back of the head. This strip is typically about 1-2 inches wide and 6-8 inches long. The skin is then dissected into individual follicular units, which are the natural groupings of 1-4 hairs.

The follicular units are then transplanted to the balding area of the head, where they will grow into healthy, permanent hair.

This method leaves a linear scar

RECOVERY AFTER HAIR TRANSPLANT

• Out-patient procedure • You may have some swelling, bruising & discomfort in the first 24-48 hours. This is only temporary and diminishes as the recovery proceeds. • You can start your daily routine work from next day after the surgery and can go for a walk etc. • Avoid sudden movements, lifting weights, etc., for approximately two week. • Do not scratch or touch the transplanted area for at least two weeks • Sleep with your head at an elevation for at least one week post surgery • Avoid Wearing T Shirts • Minimize consuming sugar and salt and drink plenty of fluids • You need to wash your scalp using a gentle shampoo. • It may take three to four days to completely recover from the procedure. • In the month following the procedure, all the transplanted hair falls off. • The hair begins to re-grow after a period of one or two months, at an average rate of 1cm a month. • You would, therefore, be able to truly appreciate the results of the procedure after about 8-10 months. • This hair would be permanent and you can shampoo, cut, style, dye or even color it!

RISKS AND COMPLICATIONS

• Some of the common side effects of a hair transplant procedure include bleeding, infection, swelling, bruising, itching, pain, numbness, and scar. • It is important to discuss these risks with your surgeon before having the procedure so that you can make an informed decision about whether or not it is right for you.

HOW TO CHOOSE A CLINIC FOR HAIR TRANSPLANT?

In todays world of digitalisation and marketing it is very attracting to get a procedure from someone who is not qualified or underqualified to do that procedure.

Only way to avoid this is to see for the doctors qualification – (board certified plastic surgeon) and years of experience in Hair transplant, results and visit surgeon personally to understand if your Hair transplant surgeon understands your need.

WHAT CAN I EXPECT DURING A HAIR TRANSPLANT SURGERY CONSULTATION?

• During your initial consultation, you will meet with the plastic surgeon and staff. • Your previous surgeries, your medical history, medications you are presently taking, and your overall physical and emotional health will be reviewed. • Your hair ,baldness pattern & grade of balding will be evaluated • Photographs may be taken for your medical record. • Your surgeon will determine what you benefit from most and whether or not additional procedures will be necessary for you to achieve your desired results. • Recovery time, risks and limitations associated with surgery will be also be discussed. • The doctor’s patient coordinator will review surgical costs and scheduling with you.

WHAT ARE THE IMPORTANT THINGS TO DO BEFORE HAIR TRANSPLANT SURGERY?

The most important thing about planning your Hair Transplant surgery is to choose the correct qualified Aesthetic plastic surgeon. More specifically, ensure that the chosen surgeon is routinely performing breast lift surgeries.

MEDICATIONS

You must STOP the following medications approximately 2 weeks before surgery – blood thinners such as ecosprin, clopidogrel, warfarin etc, estrogen containing hormones, Vitamin E, ginseng, green tea, gingko balboa, garlic pearls, ayurvedic supplements.

SMOKING

It is imperative that you completely stop smoking for a minimum of 1 week prior to your planned date of surgery as it can significantly increase your risk for anaesthesia as well as delay wound healing and increase your risk for post-surgery complications.

FITNESS

You will be advised a set of routine pre-operative investigations to ensure that you are fit for anaesthesia and surgery.

WHY AESTHETIC INTERNATIONAL®?

Once you have decided to pursue a Hair Transplant surgery , Aesthetic international® stands ready to partner with you during this life decision.

We are dedicated to our patients and open communication is never compromised. The better informed our patients are, the better they are at making their decisions.

We believe in providing the highest patient care and through your assigned patient advisor, you can be sure every consideration is made to ensure your expectations are the same as the final results.

Aesthetic international® has the latest technological advances to ensure your satisfaction with your breast lift. Our plastic surgeon is highly educated and trained in the latest medical advances.

Experience the best in hair restoration at Aesthetic International. Our commitment to excellence and patient satisfaction makes us the preferred choice for those seeking hair transplants in Bangalore.

Visit Aesthetic International - Hair Transplant Treatment to learn more about our services and book your consultation today!

[storytimewithtibby]

warnings: gore, mild violence, female slurs, mentally ill!reader, breeding kink, overstim, use of Daddy (by Gluskin), eddie gluskin x fem!reader word count: 2,669 work - here comes the bride p1

    Staring up at the ceiling as Eddie pulled you along, you tripped over a thick cord, making it TWANG loudly in the silence. The look he sent over your shoulder was less than amused, but he didn’t snap at you as he followed your gaze upwards.

“Low hanging fruit,’ he joked, before his expression darkened, voice going low with anger. “Loose moraled women, all of them. Not a single one of them would have known faithfulness if it bit them! They all tried to leave me. Or refused to try and survive a bit of surgery for our children.’

    Eyes wide, your fingers ached from where his own squeezed your hand too tightly. The set of his jaw, the half snarl on his lips, Eddie was still handsome but now he looked dangerous. You watched him as you very carefully walked over cords to move closer to him. When he looked back to you, your wide eyes, the anger melted away.

“Oh… oh no, they’ve frightened you haven’t they, darling.’ The low croon was soothing, even though it hadn’t been the bodies at all. “I’m a fool, of course your delicate sensibilities would be horrified to the core at such obscenity.’

    That wasn’t it, you weren’t horrified at all. Yes it was grotesque, but they were dead, carefully stepping over the rest of the thick cords. Wrapping your arms around his chest, you could feel his chuckle against your cheek rumbling.

“I don’t like heights.’ You finally whispered, looking up at the bodies hanging above.

“Ah, well then it’s very good I will always catch you should you fall.’ He paused as if considering. “From a ledge or somesuch. If you turn into some sort of fallen woman I’ll have to gut you, obviously. As it would gut me to find out my darling would betray me.’

    His voice was so conversational, calm as if discussing what should or shouldn’t be bought at the store. Humming under his breath, he caught your hand again and gently placed a hand at your lower back to waltz out of the room. The cheerful mood was contagious, listening to him begin singing a song you didn’t recognize.

          I don’t know much about her, and yet I know I love her…

    You were all spun around, didn’t know which way you were going, but it didn’t matter with his voice ringing out in the dark.

          Does she go la da da da I don’t care? I’ll say she does.

    There was a brief jerk through his torso as his shoulders slammed back into a door to open it, his hand pressing you closer and turning to dip you low with a broad smile. Your fingers threaded with his, the others curled over his shoulder gripped tightly in surprise feeling the stitchwork as the fabric bunched. Light headed as he pulled you upright again, Eddie spun the two of you into the room.

          And does she crave a wedding and everything? I’ll say she does!

    You kept missing parts, you could tell, the words fading in and out of your mind and then greedily grasping at others. A gasp escaped you when he gave you a sharp shove, his grip tight on your wrist as you half spun before being yanked sharply back to his chest, held tightly as he lifted his other hand to skin his fingers along your cheek as he twisted your arm behind you to secure you.

          Was she happy to get the ring? You bet she was.

    Shoulder aching, you could feel his chest rising and falling as he stared down at you. He forced you backwards, the music in the air growing louder and at first you were confused. Eddie wasn’t singing, not anymore, but you could still hear the song. Unable to look away from him, you jumped when the backs of your calves hit something.

“You are happy, aren’t you darling? It is my top priority, your happiness.’

    Voice a low croon, he finally released your arm and you fell backwards with a gasp only to find your fall arrested by a few thin pallets on a metal frame. Resting on your elbows, you watched as he leaned down, expression glowing with delight, possessive joy. A large hand moved to your waist, guiding you to scoot farther back onto the makeshift bed, sliding to spread his hand low on your belly.

“Well, I must admit it may not be my first priority,’ his fingers curled, the tips digging into you as his breathing shortened before he forced himself to calm. “But it is important that you’re happy, poor mood can affect a baby, you know? And we wouldn’t want a miserable child.’

“I’m…’ you paused, trying to sort through what you were feeling, staring up at his silhouette in the dark.

“I know! I know, I find myself struggling with words too. So hard to describe the joy I feel having found you.’ He leaned down to kiss you, his weight rested against your stomach, pressing, forcing you to lay back as he murmured against your lips. “But we will be so happy. I’ll fill you up until the joy simply spills out of you to make room for more.’

    Your head landed on something firm, hands moving to Eddie’s shoulders as your brow furrowed in confusion. But he didn’t seem to notice, humming under his breath as he skimmed his lips along your cheek, to your ear. His hips pressed down, grinding himself above the thigh he’d straddled with a low groan that sent a wash of warmth down your body. As if the hot breath against your ear was able to reach further a few inches.

“I can already see you,’ his fingers spread wide before curling again, making your writhe before his hand relaxed and moved upwards to cup your breast. “Swollen with my child, glowing as all mothers do. You’re going to be so beautiful…’

    When he pulled back, you were surprised by the cold expression on his face, squirming in an attempt to move away but the thing behind you rocked awkwardly. Sitting up, you looked behind you and found a torso, one of the pectorals sawed open and stuffed with what looked like cloth. One blink, and then another before feeling an arm wrap around you, fingers taking hold of your chin to turn your head.

    The smile on his lips didn’t reach his eyes, though they crinkled at the edges. But now you’d seen it, knew what it was. Now you noticed other things, things that hadn’t filtered through before. The blanket under your hand was stiff with dried blood, there was a hand wearing a carefully stitched lace glove near your hip. You couldn’t unsee it, but you didn’t have to look at it, hands lifting to slide over his shoulders, twining your arms around his neck.

    He seemed surprised, his expression cracking at the edges. Apparently he’d expected you to start screaming, or run away? But why would you? He loved you, had called you his darling, pulling yourself to press a kiss to his lips. And then another, chaste things that made him shiver, the hand on your breast squeezing until you gasped at the ache.

“My darling… You… you really are happy, aren’t you?’

    When you nodded, he grinned broadly, hand moving to give a hard yank at the fabric covering your chest and you felt it tear. The collar left a burning line against the back of your neck, his fingers skimming along your collarbone, up to lightly grasp your throat as he kissed you. It was a hard kiss, your mouth opening to avoid your teeth cutting into your lips, and his tongue slid inside your mouth to playfully stroke along yours.

    Your hips lifted as he tugged at the waistband of the thin fabric pants you wore, your legs pinned as he shifted, kneeling on them before finally managing to get them to your ankles. Fingers tugging at the bow tie at his throat, you fumbled at undoing it only to have your hands lightly slapped away.

“Oh no, darling. This is about you.’ A hand rested lightly on your thigh, sliding upwards making you shiver as his lips brushed yours when he spoke. “I want you eager for my seed, to make your body crave it so your womb can be its most fertile.’

    You agreed, not fully understanding what that meant, his fingers dipping between your thighs and pressing two slowly inside. Knees bent, you fell back as he stroked, curling his fingers so the tips dragged over a bundle of nerves that sent waves of electric heat shooting through your body. He was humming again, blue eyes staring down at you as you writhed, your hands clutching at his shoulders trying to pull him down to you. But he was adamant, unmoving except for the thrusting of his fingers, his thumb slowly gliding back and forth over your clit.

“No need to be quiet darling, I want to hear you. Those delicate little whimpers, sweet whines… your… screams.’ A particularly rough grind of his thumb caused your whole body to jerk. “Scream for Daddy, darling.’

    The pleasure coiled low in your belly, sparks racing through your veins, body shifting restlessly until the pleasure ignited, spine arching as your hips shamelessly rolled against his hand. It didn’t stop, and you felt the scream he’d requested building in your lungs, trapped there as your body went taut as a wire caught with an electric current. But then his fingers stilled inside you, pressing against that spot and grinding, his thumb harshly rubbing against your clit until you did. You screamed because it hurt, but it felt good to hurt, or was a good hurt, you couldn’t think, your legs kicking as you tried to move away.

“Now, now, no need to fuss, darling…’ you couldn’t breathe until he pulled his hand away, thighs trying to close. “That was wonderful, you… you looked so wonderful. The way you let me bring you to such reckless abandon against your better nature…’

    His hand lifted to his mouth, licking his finger tips, chasing the wetness that had been forced under the fingerless gloves. You expected him to undress, watching him peel off first one glove, and then the other, but he didn’t. Tossing them aside, he maneuvered between your legs, hands rubbing along your thighs as he continued crooning how beautiful you looked. Where his fingertips were rough, his palms were soft, smoothing up your thighs to cup your hips. Squeezing, he dragged his nails down, a whine escaping you even as he slid his hand between your legs again his other hand forcing your thighs apart.

“Darling please, I know that a good girl like you is disgusted by this sort of depravity, but think of the children.’

    He was relentless, bringing you again and again, until your throat was raw from screaming. And still he continued, raining kisses along your throat, his teeth savaging the skin when you clenched around his fingers. Your skin became slick, the dried blood sticking to your back as you shoved and clawed at him even as he crooned platitudes in your ear.

    When he finally stopped, you sobbed with relief, staring up at him through wet eyelashes as he beamed down at you. Watched as he slowly finished pulling the tie from his throat, unfastened his vest, then unbuttoned his shirt to carefully set aside before reaching down to undo his slacks. Feeling the head of his cock pressing against you, you couldn’t help trying to scoot back, shoulders knocking against the torso behind you. His hips pressed, and you felt your already abused flesh slowly give way.

“I’ll need to ask for your forgiveness for putting you through this, but Daddy knows best.’ He purred through clenched teeth, shivers running down your spine as he forced each inch into you. “Finally finding you, someone worthy of bearing my children? I can’t believe how lucky I-’

    It was too much, your entire body clenched, thighs rubbing against the fabric of his slacks. You lost track of what he was saying, it was just noise to you as he forced your body to take him to the hilt. His jaw scraped against yours, the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow as he let out a low groan when your inner walls pulsed around him.

    But that was the end of his patience, that tired flutter of protest, his hips pulling back to thrust forward again drawing a harsh croak from your throat. You were wet, yes, but not enough, but he didn’t seem to notice slowly levering himself up on one arm, his elbow resting on the cot by your neck to drape his forearm over it making it hard to breathe.

“-wait to see our children, darling. I hope they have your eyes, and when you give me a son I’ll teach him-’

    Distantly you could hear that he was still speaking, fading in and out like an old radio station. The hurt was slowly shifting into something else, your body reluctantly attempting to rally one last time. There was an ache spreading, even as Eddie’s cock slid easier. You couldn’t help wondering if the increasingly violent thrust of his hips had torn something, your hands scrambling to hold on to him as an orgasm carved its way through your body leaving you seeing white before everything went dark.

    When you finally managed to open your eyes again, your head ached, realizing he’d tangled his fingers in your hair to angle your head back. His teeth had left several bites on your throat, his words sounding muffled. Hands weakly shoving at his shoulders, he lifted his head to grin at you, hints of red between his teeth, a smear of blood on his chin.

“You’re too good to Daddy, darling.’ He crooned, kissing you, and you could taste the blood on his tongue when it thrust into your mouth.

    The pace shifted, you felt it, his teeth catching your lower lip as he panted. They were shorter, harder, your body screaming as it rocked with the power of them. Hands grasping at him, your nails dragged furrows down his back, his teeth biting down on your shoulder as he came. You’d thought you couldn’t feel anything, but the hot spurts trickled through the aches and throbbing, shifting beneath him even as his hips ground against yours as if trying to thrust in deeper.

“Golly…’ he rasped, weight slowly lowering as if he couldn’t keep his own weight supported.

    Unable to speak yourself, you instead hid your face in the crook of his neck. Minor complaints from every inch of your body were making themselves known, and you knew that later it would be so much worse. The bite marks along your neck and upper chest throbbed, your abdomen felt like it was try to cramp but couldn’t muster the energy. And between your legs… You ached fiercely already, but still managed to wrap one of your legs around his, loathe to let him pull out of you.

“Just give me a moment, darling.’ His hand lazily stroked along your side, pressing a kiss to your ear. “I’m sorry I… spent myself so quickly, I’ll do better next time.’

    Your heart stuttered in your chest. Quickly? When he rolled on to his side, he took you with him, nuzzling your throat, an arm tight around your waist. Even then he seemed to make sure that he didn’t pull out, his arm moving, hand sliding along your ass to pull you other leg to his hip.

“Give me… a moment to catch my breath.’ Another kiss, this time to your cheek. “I know the act is distasteful for you, such a good, darling girl. But we simply must endeavor.’

    You felt him smile when you hesitated for a moment before nodding. It was, after all, your honeymoon.

a/n - The song is another Al Jolson song “I’ll say she does” because no one can convince me Eddie doesn’t know every single one of Jolson’s songs

[everwhovian]

imagine Jun-ho and In-ho getting into an argument. Jun-ho is a young teen and causes trouble or something? Just like In-ho having to deal with a teenager

In-ho gets a text from Jun-ho in the middle of the night. To pick him up from a party. And In-ho is seething cause the surgery wasn't that long ago...

Also, does this still count as kid!Jun-ho shenanigans?

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ○△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

The clock above the filing cabinet ticked past 12:47 a.m.

The precinct was quiet. Just the low hum of fluorescent lights and the distant shuffle of someone filing reports down the hall. Most of the desks were empty. This hour belonged to men who didn’t know how to rest. Or didn’t want to.

In-ho sat hunched over his desk, nursing a cup of lukewarm coffee that had gone bitter long ago. A stack of cold case files lay spread out in front of him, half-open, half-forgotten.

He wasn’t really reading – just skimming headlines, hoping something buried would jump out. He told himself it was for work, that he was chasing loose threads, but the truth was simpler than that.

He should’ve gone home hours ago.

But something about these cases – it struck a nerve. Too many names left in silence. Too many unanswered questions. It pressed against his ribs like a weight, like if he blinked, one more person might slip through the cracks.

So he stayed. Some part of him always did.

He rubbed the back of his neck, where a familiar ache had settled in – hours spent hunched over the desk catching up to him.

Then his phone buzzed.

He froze.

Almost 1 a.m.

Jun-ho never texted this late. Not unless something was wrong.

He snatched the phone, pulse spiking.

[Jun-ho] – Hyung… can you come get me?

No explanation. No follow-up. Just that.

Something cold and sharp uncoiled in his gut.

He was up before he realized it, chair scraping hard against the floor. Papers scattered. Coffee spilled. He didn’t stop. He was already pulling on his coat with one hand and typing a reply with the other.

[In-ho] – On my way. Stay put.

He was out the door within two minutes, already starting the engine as he swung into the driver’s seat. The streetlights blurred past. He didn’t bother with the radio.

His thoughts raced ahead.

What happened? Did he collapse? Did the transplant fail? Did he forget his meds?

No. Don’t go there.

He clenched the wheel tighter, knuckles whitening. He didn’t pray, not really, but he whispered anyway: Let him be okay.

 

Jun-ho was standing alone under the pale yellow glow of a flickering streetlamp. Hoodie pulled up. Shoulders drawn in like he was trying to disappear.

His head lifted slightly as the car approached, and even through the windshield, In-ho could see it: the guilt in his face.

The kind of expression that said, I know I fucked up, but I didn’t know where else to go.

In-ho barely had the car in park when Jun-ho opened the door and slipped inside, moving quietly like he might break something.

The door shut with a soft thunk.

“Seatbelt,” In-ho muttered, voice low, tight, barely holding together.

Jun-ho clicked it into place.

In-ho didn’t look at him. He couldn’t. Not yet.

The engine idled. The rain pattered against the roof. A red traffic light reflected off the windshield like blood in water.

He could feel Jun-ho beside him – small, despite being nearly seventeen now. All sharp elbows and quiet tension, curled into the passenger seat like a kid waiting for the fallout.

In-ho didn’t look at him when he spoke. “You text me at one in the morning to pick you up from a party?”

His voice came out flat, but underneath it was a current of fear that had settled in his gut and refused to leave.

Jun-ho flinched at the tone. “I didn’t drink,��� he said quickly. “I just… I didn’t know what else to do.”

In-ho’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He could still see the scar on Jun-ho’s abdomen when he closed his eyes – angry and red, stapled into his skin like a cruel reminder of how close In-ho had come to losing him.

“You weren’t even supposed to be out,” he said, sharper now. “You’re still healing.”

Jun-ho opened his mouth, trying to explain, but In-ho cut him off.

“You’re on immunosuppressants, Jun-ho. Do you even know how dangerous it is to be around alcohol? Around drugs? You could’ve –”

“I didn’t know it would be like that!” Jun-ho’s voice rose. “I thought it was just people from school. I didn’t know someone would bring shit.”

“You shouldn’t have been there to begin with!” In-ho snapped.

Jun-ho turned toward him, jaw tight. “You can’t keep holding the transplant over my head every time I try to live.”

That stopped In-ho cold.

His grip on the wheel relaxed – then clenched again.

His throat felt like it had closed. His mind raced with images: Jun-ho lying pale in that hospital bed, wires everywhere, skin stretched too thin. The beep of a monitor. The moment he signed the donor consent. The moment Jun-ho blinked up at him afterward, so groggy, so small, whispering, ‘You’re still here?’

“I almost lost you,” In-ho said, his voice ragged. “I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty, Jun-ho. But I gave you my kidney because all I wanted was for you to live.”

In-ho pulled the car to the side of the road, shifted into park, and turned to look at Jun-ho – really look at him, not just with worry, but with everything he’d been holding back.

“You think I’m going to be calm when I get a text from you in the middle of the night, alone, at some party full of god-knows-what?”

In-ho ran a hand down his face, dragging it over the stubble on his jaw like he could rub the fear away. His next words came out softer. “I won't lose you again, okay? Not because you didn’t know better.”

Jun-ho was quiet now. He looked down at his lap, hands buried in the sleeves of his hoodie. His voice, when it came, was barely audible.

“I do know better,” he said. “That’s why I texted you.”

In-ho kept his eyes on him – really seeing him now, not just checking for injuries or symptoms, but seeing the kid who still wanted to do right.

Jun-ho looked so small again. Not just young, but fragile in a way he hated being seen. Wet eyelashes. Pale skin. Embarrassed and ashamed and trying not to show either.

“I saw the bottles,” Jun-ho continued. “Someone had pills. I didn’t even wait for things to get worse. I left. I didn’t say goodbye. I just – I just texted you.”

In-ho stared at him. A long, slow breath escaped his chest, and with it, the anger began to ebb. Not disappear – but it softened under the weight of something heavier: relief.

“You did the right thing,” he said quietly. “You backed out. You trusted me to come get you.”

Jun-ho didn’t respond.

In-ho reached over and placed a hand on the back of his neck, warm and solid. He felt Jun-ho lean into it slightly. Like he had when he was small. Like some part of him still needed to be told it was going to be okay.

Jun-ho was quiet for a long moment, staring at the rain slipping down the window. Then, voice barely above a whisper, he asked, “Are you… still mad?”

In-ho sighed. The kind that came from somewhere deep – exhaustion, relief, lingering fear all tangled together.

“I’m not mad,” he said, and he meant it now. The sharp edges of his anger had dulled, leaving something heavier behind. “I’m… disappointed. You scared the hell out of me. But I mean it – you did good.”

He paused, glancing over at Jun-ho again, softer this time. “You did the right thing in the end. That’s what matters, okay?”

Jun-ho’s breath caught.

“You can always call me,” In-ho added.“Even if it’s late. Even if I’m pissed off. Even if I yell. You call. I will come get you. Every damn time.”

“…Okay,” Jun-ho whispered.

In-ho gave his hair a small ruffle, a familiar gesture. Jun-ho didn’t shrug it off.

With a quiet breath, In-ho turned back to the wheel and started the car again. The engine hummed to life, headlights cutting through the rain as he pulled away from the curb.

They didn’t speak as the city passed by outside the windows – neon signs reflected in puddles, taxi lights weaving through the mist. The silence between them wasn’t tense anymore. Just tired. Settled.

As they neared the turn for their mother’s neighborhood, In-ho tapped the signal – and then didn’t take it.

Jun-ho glanced over, brow furrowing. “Aren’t we –?”

“You’re crashing at our place tonight,” In-ho said, eyes still on the road. “No point waking Eomma up.”

Jun-ho hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”

In-ho didn’t add that he didn’t want to let him out of his sight just yet. He didn’t need to. Jun-ho seemed to understand anyway.

[wilmavasquez82619-blog]

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