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[novaursa]

The North Remembers

- Summary: You return to Dragonstone, where you mourn with your family as you receive the message from Cregan.

- Pairing: velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is only daughter of Rhaenyra and is bonded with a dragon. These events happen right after The Union of Ice and Fire. To read all parts in chronological order visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 6 357

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @21-princess

The dawn breaks cold over the snows of Winterfell, the grey skies above washed with the soft glow of morning light. The wind bites as it always does here, the chill sinking into your bones, but the cold is a familiar thing now—a companion as much as the warm hearths of the castle.

You stand in the courtyard, fingers brushing the fur-lined cloak clasped around your throat, its rich purple hue a striking contrast against the white and grey that surround you. Before you, Thraxata rests on the rocky grounds, her dark form like a living shadow, the light catching the violet tinge of her wings and eyes. The Midnight Fury lets out a low rumble, sensing your turmoil beneath the surface of your calm. 

You’ve only been in Winterfell for little over a few months, barely enough time to know the castle’s halls as well as you know the sea air of Driftmark or the windswept cliffs of Dragonstone. The banners of House Stark flutter above you, their direwolf sigil snapping sharply in the wind. And it is there, beneath those banners, that Cregan stands, his usual stern expression softened, just for you.

It is an expression reserved solely for you now—a tenderness that you’ve learned is a rarity in the Lord of Winterfell. He has been a quiet husband, brooding, and with a presence like the mountains of the North, immovable and imposing. But the bond forged in this marriage, though brief, has grown into something more than alliance, more than duty. In those rare moments away from watchful eyes, you’ve seen the warmth that hides beneath his solemn exterior.

Cregan’s hand lingers on yours, rough from sword work and the cold, but it’s a warmth you’ve come to crave. He steps closer, his breath visible in the chill air, as he speaks, voice low and rumbling, like the deep growl of a direwolf. “Must you go so soon, Y/N? It was only a few weeks ago that you came into my hall as my wife, and now the sky calls you away.”

You look up at him, the violet of your eyes meeting the ice-grey of his. In that moment, you feel the weight of duty pressing down upon you—the call of blood, of family, and the loss that tears at your heart. “I must,” you reply, your voice steady, though beneath it, grief stirs. “Luke was my brother, and I cannot be absent when my family gathers in mourning.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a gesture so gentle it belies the fierce warrior he is. “I understand, but it doesn’t sit right, you flying into war’s shadow. The storm is coming, and it would see you harmed. There’s no peace at Dragonstone.”

You shake your head softly, lips curving into a small, bittersweet smile. “Thraxata and I have faced storms before. But I promise, I will return. This is not a farewell of uncertainty, Cregan. It’s but a temporary parting.”

Cregan’s jaw tightens, but you see the conflict in his eyes—the clash between the duty that binds him as Lord of Winterfell and the worry that gnaws at him as your husband. He’s never voiced it openly, but you’ve come to know his unspoken thoughts in the lines that deepen between his brows and the way his hand hovers close when you speak of leaving. You reach up, cupping his face with your free hand, your thumb tracing the line of his cheekbone. He leans into your touch, and there’s a softness in his gaze, something raw and open that he only shows in these moments alone with you.

“I would not be parted from you if the choice was mine,” he murmurs, his voice low, a rumble that echoes in your chest. “But you are who you are—a dragon, a daughter of Rhaenyra. The North will be colder without you.”

The words hang between you, heavy with the weight of unsaid things. But you do not shy away from the truth of them. You were born of fire, bound to flame and fury as much as blood and bone. Yet here in the cold, you’ve found something unexpected—a hearth that’s begun to feel like home.

You close the distance, pressing your forehead against his, drawing in the scent of pine and frost that clings to him. “And I’ll return to it,” you whisper, your voice carrying the promise that neither distance nor war will break what has begun to grow between you. “To you.”

He kisses you then, slow and deliberate, a kiss that is both a plea and a vow. His hand tightens around your waist, holding you close, as if trying to memorize the feel of you in his arms before you’re gone. You let yourself be lost in it for a moment, savoring the warmth that lingers in the cold air.

When you part, there’s something in Cregan’s eyes—a mixture of pride and sadness. He steps back, letting his hand slip from yours, but not before he speaks one last time. “When you return, you’ll find the hearth burning for you. Winterfell will wait. I’ll wait.”

With a final look, you nod, feeling the sting of tears that you refuse to let fall. “Keep it burning,” you say softly, before turning to Thraxata, who watches the exchange with the keen intelligence of dragons. She lowers her head, allowing you to mount, her scales like polished obsidian beneath your fingers.

As Thraxata’s wings unfurl, casting a dark shadow over the courtyard, you glance back one last time. Cregan stands there, his dark cloak billowing in the wind, a solitary figure against the snow. His expression is unreadable, but you carry the memory of his touch, his words, with you as the dragon’s powerful wings lift you into the sky.

The cold air rushes past you, but it’s the warmth of Winterfell—and of the man who waits there—that you hold close to your heart as you soar southward to meet the darkness ahead.

The hall of Winterfell is filled with the murmuring voices of the gathered lords and bannermen, their breath visible in the cold air. Torches line the walls, casting flickering light upon fur-clad figures as they gather around the long oak table. The banners of the Stark direwolf hang heavy above, swaying slightly in the draft. Cregan Stark stands at the head of the table, his expression carved from stone, his eyes hard and glacial as he looks upon the assembled men.

You are absent from this gathering—still on your way south to Dragonstone to mourn your brother, Prince Lucerys, whose death now looms over all like a shadow. But your presence is keenly felt, your name on every tongue, your sorrow a silent echo in the hall. The news of Aemond Targaryen’s treachery has reached the North, and it is received as bitterly as the cold winds that howl outside. A child, a prince of the realm, slain in cold blood by his own kin. Kinslaying—an act so vile that even the hardiest northern lord recoils at its mention.

Cregan grips the edge of the table, his knuckles whitening. His mind is torn between the duty he owes to the North and the fury that burns within him for what has been done to you, his wife. He remembers the strength in your eyes when you left, the unspoken grief beneath your calm facade. And though he must focus on the matters of his own realm, his thoughts stray constantly to the hurt you must be carrying.

“Lord Stark,” booms Lord Manderly, his ample form casting a broad shadow as he leans forward. “This act is more than just a family quarrel among the dragons. A kinslayer has been made, and that is a curse not easily forgotten. If the Targaryens devour each other, what hope is there for the realm?”

A murmur of agreement runs through the gathered lords. Lord Glover, always stern, nods. “The kinslaying is grievous enough, but it is also an assault against the Queen herself. It is an attack on your Lady’s family, my lord. An insult to Winterfell, by extension.”

Cregan’s eyes flash at those words, his temper barely kept in check. “I am well aware, Lord Glover,” he says in a low, controlled voice, “of what this means. Blood calls for blood. But the North has always moved with caution and purpose. We are not so hasty to spill our own sons’ lives without cause.”

“Yet the cause is here,” interrupts Lord Umber, his rough voice a growl. “Your lady wife’s kin have been murdered. If we are to send men to fight, let it be known that we do so not just for Rhaenyra’s claim, but for vengeance.”

Cregan straightens, his gaze sweeping over his bannermen. “Vengeance, aye. But not just vengeance. The North remembers, and it will act, but not recklessly. The long night draws near, and the Wall needs our attention. Yet, the bonds forged in this marriage cannot be ignored.”

There is a pause, the hall falling silent as the implications of his words settle in. It is clear that while Cregan’s loyalty to you is unshakable, he is not a man who would send his forces south in blind rage. His duty is first to the North—to the defense against what lies beyond the Wall, to the people who have looked to House Stark for protection for generations.

Still, it is not just caution that guides him. His heart burns with compassion for you—a quiet, smoldering fury that those close to him can sense. He would see your pain avenged, but he must tread carefully.

Finally, it is Lord Flint who speaks, his voice steady and measured. “Winter comes, Lord Stark. And we know that our strength must be held here. But perhaps there is a middle ground. If some of us were to march south—those with the numbers to spare, with Greybeards among them—we could lend strength to the Queen’s cause while Winterfell maintains its vigil.”

Cregan considers this, his gaze far away as he weighs the options. He knows that you would not ask him to risk all of Winterfell’s forces for the sake of your vengeance alone. You would be pragmatic, as he must be. Yet the thought of standing idle while you suffer is galling to him.

He nods slowly. “Aye, Lord Flint speaks wisely. Winterfell will not abandon its duty to the Wall, but those who wish to march south may do so, under their own banners. I will send word to my wife—to your lady—and let her know that the North remembers. That even in her sorrow, she is not without allies.”

There are murmurs of approval among the lords, and a few already begin to speak among themselves, calculating how many men they might spare without weakening their own holds.

Lord Manderly speaks again, his tone firm. “House Manderly will send a contingent south. The sea may be in our blood, but this crime cannot be ignored. The Queen’s cause is righteous, and so is the fury of House Tagaryen.”

Lord Umber pounds a fist on the table, nodding in agreement. “The Last Hearth will send men as well. We’ve no love for treachery, and even less for kinslayers. This is about more than crowns��it’s about honor.”

Cregan’s eyes meet those of each lord who pledges their men. There is a grim satisfaction in seeing that, even in the cold North, the bonds of family and justice still hold strong.

“Then it’s settled,” he declares. “Let those who march south do so with the blessings of House Stark. But remember this—Winterfell stands prepared for what comes from beyond the Wall. If the shadows of war reach us here, we will be ready.”

The lords nod in agreement, though the tension lingers in the air. They know the risks—they know that winter is coming, and with it, dangers far beyond the ambitions of men and crowns. But they also know that the North cannot forget the bonds it has forged, nor the blood that has been spilled.

As the meeting concludes, Cregan allows himself a moment of solitude, stepping away from the table to stare out at the snow-covered landscape beyond the walls. The wind howls, a distant wolf’s cry echoing in the cold. His heart aches with the knowledge that, despite all his power and influence, he cannot be at your side in your time of need. But he takes comfort in one thing—he has not left you without support. The North may not march as a united host, but its fury will be felt in the South.

And when you return, he will be here, ready to embrace you in the warmth of Winterfell’s hearth once more.

The skies over Dragonstone are a brooding grey, heavy with the promise of rain. The sea crashes against the cliffs below, its restless fury echoing the turmoil within your heart. Two weeks have passed since you arrived, and the sorrow that clings to the ancient castle is a weight you can’t shake off. The empty funeral pyre stands as a cruel reminder—no body was found, only the wing of Arrax, torn and bloodied from the storm and the jaws of Vhagar. The flames of mourning have burned out, leaving only ashes, but the grief remains, raw and relentless.

You’ve spent these days in close company with your family. The halls are filled with the whispered laments of your brothers, the silent agony of your mother, and the grim determination of those still loyal to her cause. The loss of Luke, your sweet brother, is like an open wound for all of you. He was more than a prince; he was a boy who brought laughter to darkened halls, a boy who carried innocence even in these dark times.

After dinner in the great hall, where the silence is thick and every shared glance carries the weight of unspoken grief, your grandmother, Rhaenys, catches your eye. The Queen Who Never Was stands with the posture of a warrior and the gaze of someone who’s known too much loss. She gestures subtly with a nod, beckoning you to follow her down one of Dragonstone’s many winding corridors.

The stones beneath your feet are cold as you walk beside her, the torchlight flickering across the walls, casting shadows that dance like memories. Rhaenys is quiet at first, as if considering how to broach the subject. When she finally speaks, her voice is soft, but there’s a steel edge to it.

“How fares the North, child? Does it suit you as your new home?”

You swallow, thinking of Winterfell’s harsh beauty, the endless snowdrifts, the quiet strength of its people. “It is…different from what I’ve known,” you admit. “The cold never truly leaves, but it’s a place of honor and loyalty. The people are as strong as the land itself.”

Rhaenys nods, her violet eyes assessing you, searching for more than just the surface of your words. “And Cregan Stark? Is he the man they say he is?”

There’s a hint of a smile at the corner of your lips as you think of your husband—the Lord of Winterfell, who stands like a mountain against all storms. “He is as the North itself, unyielding and fierce. But with me…he’s been kind. Patient, even. There is warmth beneath all that ice.”

A flicker of approval crosses Rhaenys’ face. “Good. You’ll need that warmth in the days to come. You may find that love, when forged in fire and ice, is the strongest bond of all.” Her expression grows more solemn as she continues. “But be wary, Y/N. The North remembers its own ways, its own needs. You are a daughter of House Velaryon, of House Targaryen. Never forget where your blood runs from. Loyalty can be a fickle thing in times of war.”

You meet her gaze, the weight of her words sinking in. “I haven’t forgotten,” you say softly. “But Cregan’s loyalty is something even Aegon’s throne cannot easily sway. He knows what it means to be bound by honor.”

Before Rhaenys can respond, Maester Gerardys approaches, the hem of his robe sweeping the floor. He bows his head respectfully, though his eyes dart between you and your grandmother with urgency. “Princess Y/N, Princess Rhaenys—there is a message. A raven has arrived from Winterfell.”

Your breath catches. You excuse yourself from Rhaenys’ side, following the maester back to the main hall where your mother stands by the hearth. Rhaenyra’s silver hair gleams in the firelight, her face gaunt with grief, yet there is a fierceness in her eyes that has not dimmed. She holds the message in one hand, the seal of House Stark already broken. When she sees you approach, she reaches out, pressing the parchment into your hands.

“Read it, daughter,” she says, her voice steady but laced with both concern and curiosity.

Your fingers tremble as you unroll the parchment, the familiar script of your husband’s hand meeting your eyes. The message is concise, yet filled with the careful words that only someone like Cregan would choose.

Y/N,

The North stirs with news of the South’s turmoil. I have gathered my bannermen and consulted with those who would act in your family’s interest. We cannot forget the crime done to Prince Lucerys—nor can we ignore what it means for the realm. My duty to the Wall remains my first concern, but know this: the North remembers, and those who march south do so with the fire of retribution in their hearts. Men loyal to House Stark, and thus to you, will fight in your name and the name of your kin. They may march under banners of their own, but their cause is now bound to yours. You are not alone in this war, Y/N.

Winter awaits your return, as do I. Until then, keep your heart strong and your resolve firm. The fire you carry is your strength.

Cregan Stark.

You feel Rhaenyra’s presence beside you as she reads over your shoulder. When you finish, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Your mother’s hand rests on your arm, a rare show of tenderness from a woman whose heart has been hardened by betrayal and loss.

“He stands with us, then,” she says softly, and there’s a glimmer of relief in her tone. “This is more than we could have hoped for. The North’s support may be scattered, but it is unwavering.”

You nod, your eyes still fixed on the words. “He would be here himself if he could, but he’s bound by his duties. Still, he’s sent men. Greybeards, like he first promised. It’s more than I expected.”

Rhaenyra turns to face you fully, her expression serious yet tinged with something that almost resembles pride. “You’ve done well, Y/N. You’ve secured the loyalty of the North in a way few could have. Your marriage to Cregan was not just a political move—it has borne fruit in ways that will serve us well in the coming storm.”

But beneath her praise, you can sense her worry. She knows, as you do, that even with the North’s aid, the path ahead is treacherous. War is on your doorstep, and the bonds you’ve forged, however strong, will be tested by fire and blood.

For a moment, the two of you stand in silence, the weight of the message sinking in. You clutch the parchment tightly, drawing strength from the thought of Cregan’s words—the thought of his presence, waiting for you in the cold, far away.

“Mother,” you begin, breaking the silence, “what of the others? What news from King’s Landing, from Aemond and Vhagar?”

Rhaenyra’s gaze hardens at the mention of your uncle’s name, her hand tightening on the mantle draped over her shoulders. “The time for that reckoning is near. We will strike when the time is right, but not without careful planning. The North is readying itself, and so must we.”

You nod, but in your heart, you know this war is as much personal as it is political. Aemond’s cruelty took your brother from you, and though your rage is tempered by grief, it burns no less fiercely. Yet you also carry the strength of the North within you now—the resilience of Winterfell, of Cregan. It gives you a sense of purpose, a resolve that steadies you even as the world seems to be falling apart.

You fold the letter carefully, tucking it close to your heart. “Then let us be ready,” you say quietly, lifting your gaze to meet your mother’s determined eyes. “For Lucerys. For what was taken from us.”

Rhaenyra’s expression softens briefly as she places a hand on your cheek. “For him,” she echoes, her voice filled with a quiet, shared pain. “And for you, Y/N. We will not let his death be in vain.”

In that moment, you stand together not just as mother and daughter, but as two women who know that fire and blood are the legacies you must uphold. And as you stare into the flames of the hearth, you feel the cold resolve of the North settling within your soul, steel mingling with the fire that has always burned there. Winter may come, but you will meet it with the fury of both ice and flame.

The walls of Winterfell loom high and ancient as you approach, the familiar grey stones standing steadfast against the biting winds. Snowflakes dance in the air, swirling in graceful arcs as they settle upon the battlements and courtyards below. Thraxata’s wings beat powerfully as she circles above the castle, her obsidian-black scales almost indistinguishable from the sky darkening with twilight. Despite the cold, a warmth stirs within your chest—a feeling you never thought you’d associate with this harsh and unforgiving place. You’re home, in a sense. 

As Thraxata lands, sending gusts of snow swirling around her massive form, you see Cregan waiting in the courtyard, flanked by several Stark men, their heavy furs braced against the chill. Even from this distance, you can see the tension ease from his posture as his eyes meet yours. He steps forward as you dismount, the snow crunching under his boots. His usual stoic expression softens into a small, almost imperceptible smile—one reserved only for you.

You approach him, your boots leaving prints in the snow, and his hand extends toward yours. When your fingers meet, it’s like the ice and fire within you blend—opposites that somehow, in some strange way, feel whole together.

“Welcome home,” he murmurs, his deep voice rumbling with genuine warmth. His grey eyes search yours, as if making sure that the burden of grief has not completely consumed you. There is a depth to his gaze that reassures you more than any words could.

You squeeze his hand in return, feeling the roughness of calluses beneath your fingers. “It’s good to be back, truly,” you reply, and you mean it. “Winterfell has become a comfort I did not expect to miss.”

Cregan’s brow lifts, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “A comfort? The North must truly have claimed you if you find solace in snow and stone.”

You laugh softly, a sound that seems almost out of place in the cold, but it’s genuine. “It’s more than the snow and stone,” you say, your gaze lingering on his face, and you see the understanding dawn in his eyes. 

His smile widens ever so slightly before he steps aside, gesturing toward the main hall. “Come, we’ve prepared a small feast in your honor. The hall is warmer than it’s been in days—something special for the Lady of Winterfell’s return.”

You let him guide you inside, where the air is indeed warmer, thick with the scent of roasting meat, fresh bread, and spiced wine. The long tables are laden with hearty dishes—steaming stews, roasted game, platters of fruit, and loaves of dark bread. The torches burn brighter tonight, their light reflecting off the stone walls, giving the usually solemn hall an unexpected coziness.

The Stark banners hang proudly from the rafters, and though the gathering is modest by southern standards, there is a sincerity in it that touches you. The lords and ladies of Winterfell, those sworn to the Stark name, rise to greet you as you enter. Cregan remains at your side, his presence steady, a quiet strength that grounds you amidst the swirling emotions of being home.

As you take your place beside him at the high table, a chorus of toasts begins—voices raised in welcome, in honor of your return. It’s clear that Cregan has gone to great lengths to make this night special for you, despite the shadow of grief that lingers from your time in Dragonstone.

You find yourself smiling as you listen to the familiar voices around you, but it’s when the first course is served that you lean closer to Cregan, your voice low so only he can hear. “Thank you, Cregan,” you say earnestly, the words weighted with more than just gratitude for the feast. “For everything. For the support you gave my family in the face of such loss, and for the care you’ve shown me through all of this. I know the North has its own burdens, yet you still chose to act.”

Cregan’s expression softens, and he takes a moment before responding, as if carefully choosing his words. “You are my wife, Y/N. My loyalty is to the North, but it is also to you. The loss of your brother is something no one should bear alone, least of all you. I swore to stand with you, and that means more than just words. It means action when needed.”

You feel a swell of affection in your chest—a warmth that pushes back against the cold edges of grief that have clung to you since Lucerys’ death. “Still,” you continue, your voice softer, “it’s more than duty, isn’t it? You’ve done more than your role requires, and I don’t take that lightly.”

Cregan’s gaze holds yours, and for a moment, you see the vulnerability beneath his icy exterior—the man who, despite his formidable reputation, is not immune to the complexities of what has grown between you. “It is more than duty,” he agrees, his voice equally quiet. “It is…respect. And perhaps more, though I’m not a man skilled in speaking of such things.” There’s a hint of self-deprecation in his tone, a rare touch of humor that only surfaces in these private moments.

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “I’ve come to appreciate that about you, Cregan. You may not say much, but when you do, it matters.”

Before he can respond, the doors to the hall open again, and more guests arrive, bringing with them fresh conversation and distraction. You settle into the evening, sharing in the food and drink, but always returning your attention to Cregan, who seems just as content to let the feast unfold around you while keeping you within his orbit.

Later, as the night deepens and the feasting turns more boisterous, songs rise from the tables. The lords and ladies of the North sing in rough but hearty voices, the tunes woven with tales of battles and the harsh beauty of winter. You watch as Cregan joins in, his deep voice carrying through the hall with surprising resonance. There is a joy in him tonight, a rare and unguarded happiness that spreads to those around him.

You lean back in your seat, a goblet of mulled wine in your hand, and watch the scene before you—Winterfell’s great hall alive with laughter, warmth, and the camaraderie of people who have long understood that even in the face of cold and hardship, there is room for celebration.

At one point, Cregan’s gaze finds yours across the table, and you exchange a wordless understanding—a recognition that despite the differences in where you were raised and the paths that brought you here, you are bound not just by duty, but by something deeper. Something that grows in the spaces between shared glances, quiet conversations, and the trust you’ve built, forged stronger by every test you’ve faced together.

As the feast winds down and guests begin to retire for the night, Cregan turns to you, offering his hand. “Walk with me?” he asks, his voice still carrying the rumble of warmth from the night’s merriment.

You take his hand without hesitation, and he leads you out of the hall, into the cold embrace of the night. The snow crunches beneath your boots as you walk side by side through the courtyard. The stars above are sharp and clear, untouched by southern clouds, and the wind sings softly through the trees beyond the walls.

“I’ve missed this,” you admit, breathing in the crisp air. “The quiet moments. The North may be cold, but there’s a certain peace here.”

Cregan’s grip tightens on your hand, and when he speaks, there is a hint of vulnerability in his voice, as if admitting something long held close. “I’ve missed it too—having you here. The castle hasn’t felt the same without you. Even the wild animals seemed restless. They grew accustomed to your dragon. Thraxata keeps other dangers at bay.”

You smile at that, imagining wolves and deers pacing in your absence somewhere in the forest. “Then it’s a good thing I’m back. Winterfell doesn’t seem so forbidding when you have people who care.”

He stops, turning to face you fully, the snow swirling gently around you both. “And you, Y/N? Do you feel the same?”

You reach up, cupping his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch despite the chill in the air. “I do, Cregan. I truly do.”

In that moment, with the snow falling around you and the distant sounds of Winterfell settling for the night, you realize that what you’ve found here is more than just an alliance—it’s a place where you can find strength, solace, and, perhaps most importantly, love. You lean in and kiss him, your lips brushing softly against his, and he returns it with a tenderness that speaks of everything words cannot convey.

When you pull back, his eyes hold yours with a promise—unspoken but understood—that whatever the future holds, whether it’s war, loss, or winter’s deepest cold, you will face it as one.

Hand in hand, you return to the warmth of Winterfell, the night closing in around you, but the fire you’ve both kindled together burning ever brighter.

As you and Cregan enter your chambers, the warmth from the hearth greets you, a shivering contrast to the icy air outside. The soft glow of firelight dances across the stone walls, casting shadows that sway and flicker. The door closes behind you with a heavy thud, sealing off the world beyond these intimate quarters. The quiet hum of the castle fades away, leaving only the crackling of the fire and the sound of your breaths, which seem louder now, filled with anticipation.

Cregan’s hand remains in yours, but there’s an urgency in the way his fingers tighten around yours. He steps closer, towering over you with that rugged strength that you’ve grown so accustomed to. Yet, there’s something different tonight—a hunger, a need that’s been simmering since the moment you returned. His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a deep intensity, and before either of you can say a word, his lips are on yours.

The kiss is fierce, demanding, filled with the pent-up longing of weeks spent apart. You respond in kind, matching his eagerness as your fingers tangle in the fur lining his cloak. The taste of spiced wine lingers on his lips, and his scent—earthy, tinged with pine and smoke—envelops you, grounding you in the moment. Your movements grow more frantic as the kiss deepens, your bodies pressing closer together, as if trying to make up for every second lost in separation.

Cregan’s hands move to your waist, tugging at the layers of your attire with an impatience that’s both surprising and thrilling. “I missed this,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and strained with desire. “Missed you—missed your warmth.”

A soft gasp escapes you as his hands slip beneath your furs, finding the fastenings of your gown and working quickly to undo them. You feel the cool air brush against your skin as your dress loosens, sliding down your shoulders. “Then take it, Cregan,” you breathe, your own fingers deftly working to undo the ties of his tunic, eager to feel the heat of his skin against yours. “I’m here now.”

Your clothes fall away in a hurried tangle, your hands roaming over each other’s bodies with a desperate need. There’s no gentleness in your touches tonight, only the shared hunger that’s been building ever since you parted. Cregan’s tunic drops to the floor, revealing the hard lines of his chest, muscles honed by the rigors of the North. You let your hands trace over him, savoring the feeling of his strength, the way he shudders slightly under your touch.

With a growl low in his throat, he lifts you effortlessly, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you toward the bed. Your lips never leave his, and the kiss grows more frantic, more heated, until he lowers you onto the furs. The bed is soft beneath you, the familiar scent of wolf pelts mingling with the crisp scent of winter air that still clings to him.

Cregan pauses for just a moment, his eyes raking over you, darkened with desire. “Gods, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice rough with need. There’s an almost reverent quality to his gaze, but it’s quickly consumed by hunger as he lowers himself over you, capturing your lips again with a fervor that sends heat pooling low in your belly.

Your hands slide up his back, pulling him closer, and you feel the weight of him pressing down on you—a delicious pressure that makes you arch up against him. His lips leave yours to trail down your neck, leaving a path of burning kisses along your collarbone, each one sending sparks of pleasure through you. You tilt your head back, giving him more access as your fingers curl in his dark hair, tugging gently as he nips at your skin.

But you don’t want slow tonight. You want him—all of him, now.

“Cregan,” you whisper, your voice thick with desire as you tug him closer, your hips pressing up against his in invitation. “Please.”

He answers your plea without hesitation. His hands slide down to grip your hips, positioning you beneath him as he moves between your thighs. The anticipation sends a shiver through you, but it’s quickly drowned out by the rush of pleasure as he finally enters you. Both of you gasp at the sensation—the familiar stretch, the way your bodies seem to fit together as if they were made for this.

The pace is quick, urgent, driven by the need to feel each other, to reclaim what was lost in your time apart. His movements are powerful, his thrusts deep and unrelenting, but there’s a tenderness woven into the raw passion—a care that reminds you this is more than just desire. It’s need, yes, but it’s also comfort, affection, something deeper that you’ve both come to rely on.

Your breaths mingle in the space between you as you find your rhythm together, your bodies moving in perfect sync. Each thrust sends a wave of pleasure coursing through you, building with every movement, every gasp and moan that escapes your lips. The heat coils tighter in your core, fueled by the rough sound of Cregan’s breath in your ear, the low growl in his throat as he murmurs your name, over and over, like a prayer.

“Y/N,” he groans, his voice ragged as his movements quicken, his grip on your hips tightening. “Gods, I missed this—missed you. No one else, nothing else, could ever feel like this.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, holding him closer as the pleasure crests, your own voice breaking as you whisper, “I missed you too. Needed this—needed you.”

The words hang between you, a confession that means more than just the physical connection. It’s the bond you’ve forged, stronger now for everything you’ve faced. You cling to each other as the tension builds, the pleasure reaching a fever pitch. The room is filled with nothing but the sounds of your shared need—skin on skin, the rough gasps of breath, the whispered names.

And then it shatters.

Your release crashes over you, drawing a cry from your lips as your body trembles beneath him, the pleasure overwhelming in its intensity. Cregan follows moments later, his groan deep and guttural as he buries himself in you, his body tensing before he finally surrenders to the waves of bliss that take him.

For a few moments, the world is nothing but warmth and satisfaction, the tension ebbing away like the last breath of a dying storm. Cregan remains above you, his forehead resting against yours as you both catch your breath. His weight is a comfort, grounding you, reminding you that despite everything—despite the grief, the war looming on the horizon—you have this.

You have him.

Eventually, he rolls to the side, pulling you with him, his arms wrapping around you as you settle against his chest. The fire crackles in the hearth, its light casting a soft glow over the room, but it’s the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek that lulls you into a peaceful calm.

He presses a kiss to your temple, his voice a quiet rumble in the darkness. “You’re home now,” he says, and there’s something so tender in the way he says it that your heart swells.

You look up at him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. “Yes, I am,” you reply softly, and you mean it. For all the cold and the hardship, there is warmth here—warmth in his arms, in the way he looks at you, in the life you’ve begun to build together.

[songsofadelaide]

"Hey, Platoon Leader, are you guys trying to be the next Shinomiyas?"

You looked up from your plate of food and gave Kafka an incredulous look from across your shared table. "...What?"

The older officer raised his hands in defence when he caught the strange look on your face. "O-Oh, you know! The Director General and his wife, the former Captain of the Second Division. They were a power couple. I just thought you guys were similar is all..."

"Kafka-san, you better clarify whatever it is you're saying," you chuckled at his statement. "Though I definitely do not mind being compared to the Second Division Captain Shinomiya Hikari, the gods rest her soul. She was brilliant, after all! A shining example to so many young women, myself included. We could have stood to learn a thing or two from her..."

It was a tragedy, you thought. The Director General had always been a serious man, but the unexpected death of his wife made him all the more. And now that Kafka mentioned it, the weight of the idea rested even heavier on your mind. The higher you two rise in the ranks, the more will be expected of you. The more numbered Kaiju appear, the more you will have to set out in their field.

The higher the danger risk, the more skilled personnel will have to be deployed. And seeing how the top brass acknowledged your fiancé's most recent accomplishment— subduing and neutralising Kaiju No. 10— the likelihood of him being assigned even more dangerous missions will only increase—

"You think the Vice Captain would consider growing out a beard too when he becomes Director General? Like Director General Shinomiya. I mean you did mention once that his old man was grizzled and all..." Kafka asked aloud as he helped himself to his lunch.

???

His question was so left-field that you couldn't help the laughter that escaped your stomach. "Pfft— What?! Kafka-san, wh— Hahaha!"

"I-I'm serious, though, Platoon Leader?! A beard would make him even more menacing!"

"Haha! N-No, okay, okay! I'm sorry! I'm sorry for bursting out laughing like that! I-It's just— Soshiro grows stubbles at an alarming rate and he always shaves because he hates being told he'd look like his father with a beard," you said, nearly breathless and tears prickling your eyes. You continued to speak as you calmed down, the seriousness of your expression prompting your lunchmate to pause his meal. "I might not be able to achieve Captain Shinomiya's legendary level of coolness or renown, but I think as long as I continue accomplishing orders, that's good enough for me."

Arriving at your table not long after your fit of laughter were the Vice Captain and another recruit— one who happened to hear your conversation right from the start.

"I—" Kikoru started, her plate slightly trembling in her hands as you met her earnest gaze. "I think you're just as cool as Captain Shinomiya, Platoon Leader! More importantly, I'd like f-for you and Vice Captain Hoshina to always be safe while in the battlefield so you can both live long and fulfilling lives! Th..."

The kind her mother never got to live.

Soshiro took his place next to you as Kafka gestured for them to sit at your shared table.

"Thank you, Kikoru-chan. I am honoured you think so highly of me. If there's anyone feels the loss our amazing Captain Shinomiya the most, that would be you," you said as you reached for the younger girl's shaking fist from across the table, giving her a gentle yet reassuring squeeze. "If Soshiro and I ever do become the Defense Force's next power couple, I can only hope we have a child as talented and dedicated as you are."

"That's assumin' we're actually still a couple," Soshiro quipped. "I could hear you laughin' at Kafka's joke from across the building. Whatever did he tell you that was so funny, sweetness?"

"Kafka-san here was just saying how cool you would look grizzled with a beard all over your handsome, handsome mug," you shot back at him as you gently gripped his chin to force him to face you. "But don't worry, sweetness, I like you just the way you are now."

Kikoru's hands flew to her mouth as her face suddenly flushed. H-How lovey-dovey of them!

"You're already plenty menacing with that sly look of yours," you continued, before slapping the table so hard that it surprised both Kafka and Kikoru, who were staring in awe at just how affectionate their superiors were being. "Now eat, eat, eat up, our little fledgelings! Eating right, getting enough sleep, and exercising are key to living long! Let's not miss out on even one of those!"

Soshiro smiled as you ate your fill along with your favourite new recruits, though he'd never hear you say that out loud. Being a power couple never appealed to him because all that mattered to him were saving lives and staying alive— to be able to live in the future you were all so earnestly fighting for.

I suppose having someone to proudly stand next to isn't such a bad idea.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 8)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

The illness persists in the weight of your skin over your bones yet the loss of actual muscle and fat that turn you skeletal. Your legs become bow-like and pain radiates just above your hairline. Your vision crackles with scattered flashes of black dots, and you drink like a man lost in the desert. 

Only foods that are red stay down, and even then you only nibble at peppers and plug your nose at the raw meat you stuff in your mouth. You feel the sunlight outside your window when you open it up and stick your hand through, as walking out of your apartment is a chore you can only handle once a week at most. 

Once a homebody, reclusive out of necessity and exhaustion from simple interactions, you now live for Lucifer’s chatter. His presence abates your fever, physically and emotionally. The dependence on him, as sweet as he appears, makes you itch inside. 

Everything is terrible, you tell yourself at least once per day, as the illness persists. 

But if Lucifer is good at anything, it’s providing you with distractions from the ever-present suffering.

—

The sounds you made put the Angelic Choir to shame. 

“Lucifer, don’t say that!”

The King of Hell’s laugh was muffled as he stayed buried in your cunt. The memory of you being so flustered was almost just as sweet. 

He eyed your tightly screwed expression just over your growing belly, and felt gratified at his idea to have you propped up by pillows from head to hips. With the boost, Lucifer could watch you enjoy yourself and remain comfortable. 

Let him feel the springs of your mattress dig into his knees and stomach. They were secondary to the pain of his own hardness straining in his slacks. 

A keen from you, and the feeling of your nails as they raked through his hair and over his scalp, had Lucifer moaning. His eyes rolled back, momentarily blinded by euphoria. 

“Ooh!” 

Eyes snapping open, Lucifer lifted himself from the bed quickly. His tongue slipped out of you, dripping onto the sheets when he was mindless to reeling it back in.

“Why’d you stop?” Your whine between quick pants made him blink.

One eye at a time. 

“I thought I hurt you.” He smiled, sheepishly, once his tongue was back in his mouth. 

His mauve-lids and golden lashes fluttered when you wiped the slick from his chin. There was no missing the color that had returned to your cheeks with all the exertion he was putting you through, and he felt a swell of pride at being able to breathe life back into you. So to speak. 

“Heaven help me.” You said, sarcastically. 

Breathlessly.

The Devil’s hips jerked when your hand rose to grip a fistful of his blond hair. You manually lowered him back between your legs, heedless to the way his entire frame shivered.

— 

‘I think I… I think I’m in love with her.’ Lucifer looked so earnest, meeting the glow of Ozzie’s stare. 

The Sin clucked a tongue in his King’s direction, shaking his head. ‘Well, don’t tell her that. You’re gonna scare her away, man.’ 

—

Lucifer watched you fall apart from just his tongue (its length and width being inhuman notwithstanding). 

You were so beautiful like this. Legs shaking, body spasming, letting go.

‘I love you.’ 

Man’s (alleged) Greatest Enemy could just barely contain himself. 

‘I love you I love you I love you’ 

—

Lucifer brings you another scroll one sunny day, and you find it riddled with names. 

“I’ve been thinking about what to call him or her, so I made a list! …Kinda, sorta during a meeting… whatever, it wasn’t that important!” 

Oh, you could see that. 

“Do you like any of them? Which are your favorites? No! Gimme your top 5!” His jubilation is so innocent, but something inside you hitches. 

“Does it actually matter what I think?” You chuckled. 

“Of course it does!” He cried. “You’re the mo— uh… you’re putting in most of the work!”

The weak save went unchallenged. You were already circling names, likening the process to navigating a minefield as you looked through a long line of names you couldn’t even pronounce or read. 

‘Ehb 

Horus

Azor 

Carlton’

“What about a girl?” Lucifer asked out of the blue. 

Your head cocked to the side as you realized your picks had been relegated to just one side of the endless list. That he’d written down names for boys and for girls struck you as odd. 

 “You think it’ll be a girl?” 

Lucifer looked at you with a curious gaze. “Could be, couldn’t it?”

After a moment, you shrugged. “I guess so…” 

The King’s confusion crinkled around his eyes and caused an uncanny few lines in his otherwise perfect forehead. You flick the pen at him teasingly to wipe the look from his face.

You write a few names down, and watch with a smirk as his frown turns upside down. 

‘Adrienne 

Charlotte

Maleficent’

You ignored the painful thought that this was a pointless endeavor. Naming a dead thing.

—

With eyebrows raised, you sat waiting dutifully, hands clasped over your stomach while he rummaged through the box. 

“Aha!” He pulled out two red objects, one in each hand, and knee’d the chest out of the way to present them to you.

“Surprise!”

Two remarkably crafted stuffed animals were set before you on the couch cushion. 

Goats. 

It took you a second to place them, staring at their intricate appearances — covered in fluffy red fur from head to cloven hoof, with large yellow eyes and tiny red smiles stitched on their stark white muzzles. 

Shiny, metallic-looking horns curled over the curvature of their little heads, tips almost touching the tiny approximations of wings protruding from their backs. You noticed that the little wings were also sticking out of the backs of their tiny tuxedo suits; solid black to further contrast their Luciferean color schemes. 

An uncharacteristically high-pitched squeal escaped you. 

Damn these hormones. You internally chastised yourself while reaching out to finger at the detailed plushies. 

“They’re so cute!” You admired the unbelievable softness of one’s fur, hand overlapping with Lucifer’s as you turned it this way and that. His grin was so wide in your peripheral vision as he soaked up your fawning.

“Aren’t they?!” Lucifer squealed along with you. “They’re twins! But see this one has lighter fur and this one has sharper eyes. I tried to give them little differences so they had some individuality.” 

“Michael and I looked so similar in the Beginning, a ton of people always got us mixed up. Sometimes it was fun, but I got tired of hearing him bitch about it after the first couple centuries.”

A more serene countenance overtook your counterpart, with his line of sight drifting off to the floor beside you. Lost in thought. Or perhaps reminiscing. 

“Michael?” You asked gently. 

“My brother.” Lucifer replied. 

“Ohh, I think I remember… is he a Prince of Hell too?” 

The formerly Divine man frowned. “… No. Not him.”

A shadow fell over you both, distant sadness suffusing the air. You reached for him instantly, only for Lucifer to switch on like a lightbulb and grin manically. 

“Oh well! Who knows, maybe he took Dad’s side just to make sure no one ever confused us for each other ever again!” 

You pulled away. “… right.” 

Lucifer shook his head after a glance in your direction. 

“Um, so, I was thinking…” He began. “Maybe we give one to the baby an-nd… one could stay here… with you…” 

There was no hiding the confusion that crossed your face. 

You ‘tsk’ed. “You wanna deny the baby half this cuteness?” 

In response, Lucifer tittered, still adamant on looking around the room instead of meeting your gaze head on. “Hah, no. I was thinking that, maybe, we could keep one of them here and… and then they could reunite every time the baby and I… or just the baby… visit…”

Slow realization made your already weak constitution roil. 

Perhaps, if you’d been yourself and not the hollow shell of a person you’d become while pregnant, you would’ve been angry. Or upset enough to shout. Maybe you would’ve gotten up and left him there on his lonesome, wordlessly demanding he not entertain that idea ever again. 

Certainly, the You from before this insane, impossible scenario wouldn’t hesitate to react melodramatically. 

You sighed, fiddling with one of the goat’s tails. “Oh Lou…” 

He cringed beneath the weight of your words, laden with a heaviness that harshened his already guilty conscience. 

“Wait, before you say no —” Lucifer felt his mouth running away from him. “Maybe you could think about it and then decide? Maybe after they’re born?”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. I don’t expect anything from you.” 

“You’re expecting me to be its mother.” Your tone broke no room for argument. 

Mauve eyelids drooped as Lucifer looked down in shame. “I — ”

“I wouldn’t make a good mom.” Your statement stopped him in his tracks. 

Frustration simmered in Lucifer, slowly creeping into his expression as you continued, unrelenting. His posture went rigid, hands beginning to clench at his sides.

“It’s not that I don’t care. I probably care too much, actually.” You admitted.

It was true. Regardless of your paranoia and how justified it was or not, the sole basis for why you felt the need to argue in the first place —

(And wasn’t that just pathetic? You had feelings for the Epitome of Evil and had entertained being safe and happy with him) 

— the reality was that you’d been a broken human being before this cosmic impossibility entered your life. 

“I just don’t…” You sighed. “I wouldn’t be a good part of their life if I was in it.” 

Your head whipped up, vision spotting when Lucifer blurted:

“You are the best part of my life.” 

He looked angry. Furious. So much so that the sclera around his irises began to radiate a blood-red. 

“Do you know how hard it is? To leave you? I have to convince myself every single time that you’ll still be here when I return!” Lucifer claimed. “And soon I won’t even be able to do that!” 

“I don’t want to say goodbye forever! I… I l…” 

You shuddered, stiffening in your seat. As soon as he realized, Lucifer’s display was cowed. 

“Fuck, are you alright? I’m not — I don’t know what came over me!”

You shook your head. “No.” 

“It stopped.” You whispered. 

Lucifer’s grip trembled around your wrists. “Stopped?”

His breathless echo of your words drew your eyes up. You saw the storm brewing in his ruby eyes, as even though he waited for you to elaborate, a million thoughts pelting at his brain like hail. 

“The pain stopped.” You said. 

Your hands felt over the bump beneath your breasts, as if you might find the imaginary ‘off’ button and turn it back on.

It was ludicrous to think about, but you immediately wished for the agony that had been crippling you to return if it meant that this baby wasn’t… wasn’t… 

Tears glistened in your eyes. Lucifer drew you to his chest in spite of the fear that was pulling his shoulders taut. 

“Wh-what did you do today? Anything different?” The ex-Angel asked shakily. 

His eyes scanned you up and down, lingering on the little dolls he’d just gifted you. 

“No… n-no, nothing different.” You said. “I was in bed all morning, and th… then Cass was here and we had tea… we went out and walked a little bit outside.” 

“Did you fall?” The King hedged. 

You gasped, eyes widening. Instinctively your arms wrapped around your middle at the foreign feeling emanating from within. 

“Did…! You fell??” He panicked, grabbing onto you like a life raft. “Where? On what?!”

His words drifted away as you were enveloped in the strangest surge of feeling you’d ever experienced. 

You could only just muster up the energy to shake your head. 

Sudden warmth. 

And pressure. 

A tiny flutter, one you’d never felt before. 

You inhaled quickly yet deeply at the feeling of something pressing against your belly-button from the inside. 

It made you grin, hands coming back to grab for Lucifer’s own and to pull them to your stomach. “They’re alive!” 

The man’s jaw went slack, staring sightlessly for just as long as it took to soak up the sudden heat there. The baby took pity on its poor, trembling father and kicked again. 

It was Lucifer’s turn to gasp, looking back and forth between you and the bump with dawning awe. 

“It is!” He laughed, a tad bit hysterically. “It — they are alive!” 

“… And… glowing…”

“You’re glowing!”

*** Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee

[theewokingdead]

Heaven Can Wait - Francisco "Catfish" Morales x f!Reader

Pairing: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x f!Reader Summary: Frankie wakes up after a night of drinking to find himself in a strange woman's bed. As he grapples with his post-Colombia demons, the stranger beside him offers something unexpected: patience, understanding, and maybe even a reason to live. Word Count: 1.7k POV: 1st person (Frankie) Rating: Explicit Content: Substance abuse and addiction, loss/grief, strong language, sexual content, vomiting, happy ending (because Frankie deserves it) A/N: Inspired by Hozier’s “Work Song.”

Masterlist I stare into my nearly empty beer bottle, hoping it'll reveal answers to my mistakes, though I know it won't.

It's day three of this relentless bender. My hand shakes as I raise my drink, and I can't tell if it's the coke wearing off or the crushing weight of my reality. Tom is gone. My fiancé left. I've driven away everyone who once mattered to me. They’ve moved on. Yet here I am, caught in this destructive loop, questioning whether I want to break free or if this might be the time I don't wake up.

“You look like you could use some company.”

I blink through the haze and find a woman sliding onto the stool beside me. She’s smirking, a little amused, a little intrigued, but there’s something else behind her eyes. Recognition, maybe. Like she’s seen this type of misery before.

I scoff. My chest feels tight, like the weight of her gaze is pressing down on me. “Company doesn’t fix anything.”

“True… But it can distract,” she replies lightly, spinning the bottle in front of me.

Her offer lingers in the air like a half-remembered song, familiar yet out of reach. I glance at the bartender and wave him down. “Another for me. And one for the lady.”

The next thing I know, it's morning. There's a woman on top of me, asleep. A mixture of emotions swirls within me - an unexpected warmth mingled with uncertainty. I'm still inside her, and I can't tell if I'm more comforted or unsettled by the situation.

"Shit," I croak, my throat dry and voice raspy.

Her eyelids flutter open, revealing wide, startled eyes. "Oh… shit," she echoes, her voice barely above a whisper.

We lie there frozen as the weight of the moment sinks in.

My head pounds, my stomach churns, and the realization that I have absolutely no memory of how we got here slams into me like a truck.

"I’m going to be sick," I blurt.

"What…?"

I shove her off—gently, or at least as gently as a man about to puke can—and nearly face-plant off the bed before stumbling toward the bathroom. I barely make it before I drop to my knees and empty whatever’s left of my dignity into the toilet.

Between retches, I hear movement behind me—the rustling of sheets, then footsteps. The bathroom door opens with a creak, followed by the sound of water running. A cool washcloth is gently pressed against the back of my neck.

I flinch, surprised, but don’t push her away. The sensation is grounding, something solid in the middle of the nausea. I should be embarrassed. Hell, I am embarrassed. But she doesn’t say anything - just crouches beside me, her hand light on my back as I ride it out. Her calmness makes it a little less humiliating.

"Jesus," I mutter once I can breathe again, wiping my face with the damp cloth.

She snorts. "Not quite, but thanks."

I groan, pressing my forehead against the cold porcelain.

“You good?”

“Define good.”

She laughs softly. “Well, you're not dead, so… that's something.”

I snort weakly, flushing the toilet, washing away the evidence of my sins. When I sit back against the wall, I notice she’s slipped on a robe. At least she has the luxury of some damn decency.

She disappears for a moment, giving me time to look around the room, taking in how bare everything is. The walls are plain. The counter around the sink is mostly empty. It’s clear she’s still getting settled.

"Here," she says, returning with a towel and tossing it at me. "You might want to cover up. I mean, you’re not bad to look at, but…"

I blink, then glance down.

Right. Still naked.

Muttering a thanks, I wrap the towel around my waist. She leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me with a smirk.

“Congrats on winning most awkward morning-after experience ever, by the way.”

Fuck. Me. I scrub a hand down my face.

“Thanks,” I say dryly, attempting a smile but failing miserably. “I’ll get a trophy to commemorate the occasion.”

She chuckles. “Please do. I’d love to see you display that on a bookshelf.”

I can’t help but crack a smile at her teasing - there’s something infectious about it. Maybe it’s the relief of not having to face this alone, or perhaps just the sheer absurdity of our situation. “I’m Frankie, by the way.”

She tells me her name, and it's just as pretty as I had imagined it would be. A surge of frustration hits me. How could I possibly forget something so beautiful, so sweet?

I guess that’s what happens when you drown your brain in alcohol and grief.

A pause settles between us. Not quite awkward, not quite comfortable. Just…something different.

Then it hits me. A flicker. A flash.

Low lamplight. The sound of her breathing against my ear. The way she moved - slow and gentle, like she actually cared. Like it wasn’t just sex, not just another body in a long line of bad decisions.

I thought it was a dream.

Even now, head splitting open, stomach still churning, I almost convince myself it was. That I didn’t pull her into me like she was the first thing in a long time that felt real. That I didn’t whisper the words that slipped past my lips, aching and raw, confessions I didn’t dare say out loud when sober. But in the haze of that dim room, it felt easy - like she could see the parts of me I tried so hard to hide.

“Listen, about last night-” I start, but she cuts me off with a raised hand.

“Let’s just take it one awkward moment at a time, okay?”

I nod.

"I should probably get dressed," I mumble, shifting uncomfortably on my knees. The towel slips a bit, and I grab it tighter, half-dreading the moment when I'll have to stand up and face whatever judgment lingers in her eyes.

“Or,” she suggests, “you could just take a second and breathe. We’ve all got our demons, Frankie.”

I look up at her. The amusement from earlier has faded; there’s something softer now, like she knows how fragile I am beneath this façade of bravado and bad choices.

“And we all deserve a fresh start.”

"A fresh start," I echo, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. It’s a phrase I’ve clung to in moments of desperation, yet it feels hollow now, like a promise long broken.

She raises an eyebrow, the smirk returning. “You don’t sound convinced.”

I meet her gaze, trying to decipher her. “Yeah, well… fresh starts are usually just a nicer way of saying you’ve messed up so badly you need to wipe the slate clean.”

“True,” she replies. “But sometimes it’s not about wiping the slate. It’s about what you choose to write next.” She extends a hand. “And you don’t always have to write it alone.”

I hesitate. Guilt gnaws at me. I want to tell her everything, to spill out all the secrets and shame I carry like stones in my pockets. I expect her to ask me about my life, my choices - what brought me to this point of self-destruction. Bu it doesn’t come. She doesn’t prod. She doesn’t ask a thing. Not about Tom. Not about what I’ve done. Not about why I’m trying so hard to drown myself in whiskey and coke. Everyone else has, but she just waits.

Something in her eyes pulls me in, a quiet strength that feels like an anchor amid my stormy chaos. I take her hand, tentative at first, and she helps me to my feet, steadying me as the world tilts slightly. Her grip is firm, warm, and for the first time in a long time, I feel something other than shame and regret.

---

Eighteen Months Later

"Fuck, baby," I groan, my grip tightening on her hips as I thrust deeper.

She gasps, back arching, fingers clutching the sheets like they’re the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. Her body trembles around me, heat and silk drawing me in, making me lose myself in her.

"Frankie," she whimpers, breathless.

"I got you, babe," I murmur against her lips. "Always."

A few more thrusts and she’s breaking apart beneath me, and I follow, burying myself deep as I groan into her shoulder.

After, we lie tangled in sweat-damp sheets, her head resting on my chest. The room around us is warm, filled with picture frames holding memories we built together. On our bedside table sits a trophy she gave me as a small gag gift (no pun intended) my last birthday.

Suddenly, she gasps, throws the sheet around herself, and bolts for the bathroom.

I hear it - the unmistakable sound of vomiting.

Instantly, I’m up, pulling on my boxers before following her. Dropping behind her, I sweep her hair back, my hand rubbing slow circles on her back as she rides it out. It’s eerily familiar, but this time, something’s different.

"Well…" I smirk when she’s finished. "This is familiar."

She groans but leans into me. “Yeah, well, it’s a little different this time.” She wipes her mouth with a washcloth I hand her, looking both sheepish and exhausted.

I chuckle softly, tracing my fingers along her spine, the warmth of her skin radiating beneath my touch. "How so?" I ask, leaning close enough to catch the faint scent of vomit mixed with her floral shampoo.

"For one, I didn't wake up with some strange man inside me," she says with a playful smirk.

I chuckle. “As your husband,” I reply, raising an eyebrow with a teasing grin, "I’d be very concerned if you had.”

“Secondly, we actually planned for this,” she says, a hint of a smile breaking through her weariness. “I mean, not the throwing up part, but you know…”

I exhale slowly, the weight of her words settling over me. Planned. This isn’t just a temporary escape from our pasts - it’s the future we chose. The future we built.

I press my forehead against hers, my hands cradling her face as a slow, contented smile spreads across my lips.

A year and a half ago, I thought my story had already ended. That I was living on borrowed time, waiting for the inevitable crash. But here, in this moment, with her? I know now…

Heaven can wait.

Because I’ve already found mine.

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober - Day 2

Prompt: Titfucking Pairing: Changbin x fem!reader WC: 1,980 Summary: After the gym Changbin is worked up and needs help to relieve himself.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Changbin or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. 

Additional TW/CW below the cut.

TW/CW: Changbin is a bit of a pervert, one use of “babe” directed towards reader, assumed larger chest, lots of talk about breasts, titfucking, no penetration, sweat as lube, spit as lube, finishing on chest.

 Gym pump. Changbin had heard of it. Guys getting their “pump” on he thought was just the code for the naturally hulkier appearance of a well worked muscle. He’d not considered that pump could mean other things. It didn’t cross his mind that when his blood “pumped” through at an increased rate, spreading all those endorphins far and wide, that it would spread literally to every extremity, including his cock. It was kind of cool actually, looking down after a particularly grueling session and seeing his slightly swollen member just a little more prominently bulging in his gym shorts.

 It wasn’t a huge hassle until you joined the gym. A small family owned gym like the one he frequented didn’t often get new members. It wasn’t flashy like the higher end gyms, nor cheap like the chains. It was niche and he loved that. You also loved that. Chain gyms were intimidating, harsh fluorescent lights with rows and rows of cardio equipment peppered with some weight training. High end gyms were no better, mostly used as a social club for the wealthy to network and find dates. While the atmosphere was nicer, the people were not. So you gritted your teeth and spent the money at the small independent gym near work.

 9PM, your usual start time, give or take a few minutes. Your tits slightly spilling over you just barely too small sports bra caught his eye every time. It was like you walked tits first through the door, bright pink and bouncing as you marched yourself to the bay of lockers to store your gym bag. It drove him insane. Imagining how soft and pliable you would be in his arms pushed him harder on his last reps, grunting and gasping damn near erotically. However instead of heading immediately to your usual treadmill you stretch in a small alcove before waving at Changbin. He damn near slams the plates of the overhead rower against each other.   “Sorry,” you smile, hands folded neatly behind your back. “I normally wouldn’t ask but, no one else is here and I need someone to spot me.”   “Spot you?” Changbin’s brows raise. “You don’t lift weights.” He blurts. Now it’s your turn for a questioning look. Changbin wants to wither and die, what a fucking stupid thing to say. Either now you know he’s been watching you and knows your routine or think he’s a sexist prick.   “Yeah err, I heard adding weight lifting and growing muscle can help with weight loss so I thought…well. I don’t know. Should I not lift?”   Shaking his head and closing his eyes, Changbin looks you up and down. “I’m sorry. I phrased it wrong. You can lift weights if you want to!”   “No, I know, I need someone to spot me. Can you?” You stare at him from under your eyebrows.   For fear of saying something even more stupid Changbin nods enthusiastically and stands to follow you to the bench. How he thought he would be able to handle this angle of you is beyond him. But it was true, he was the only one in the gym who could help you and he wasn’t going to let you down.

 Staring down at you, watching the bar come closer to your chest, back arched slightly from the bench. If he just racked the fucking bar and yanked you to him he could easily fuck your throat with abandon. But he really shouldn’t think like that. He should focus on the speed and frequency of your lifts. They’re calculated and measured, a beginner watching their forum, analyzing each movement, hesitant.   “You’ve got it, two more for the set.” Changbin says firmly and quietly. “Just two more.”   His quiet confidence in you makes you proud, emotions high from the tension in your arms. You grit your teeth and smile as you push your last two reps.   “I was planning on doing two more sets. Just need to complete my circuit in the meantime, do you mind if I find you again? For spotting?” Voice sweetly lilting to appeal to him, he agrees with a silent smirk and nod.

 You don’t ask him every time. Changbin doesn’t want to admit he feels a certain way about it. He was your first spotter, should’ve been your only spotter. No one else should be watching you as intently as him. It’s not that he’s possessive, it’s that he’s concerned. Or at least he tells himself this is the reason for his continued light surveillance. It’s almost a month before he talks to you again. Working himself to almost complete failure he can’t take it anymore. Eyes locked on you as you rerack your weights he needs to say something to you. Anything to you to make it clear that he’s friendly and approachable and wants to help.   “Your chest…presses are coming along…” he tries to casually glance and nod. A quick observation to let you know he cares about your progress. Glace flitting down to your hot pink sports bra, casually of course.   He makes you nervous, muttering a quick “oh…thanks. Can’t have the girls get saggy,” as you avoid eye contact. Knowledgeable and handsome, you want to impress him.   “Must be heavy.” The words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them, eyes still marveling at your chest.   “What?”   “Oh sorry,” he shifts awkwardly. His knuckles press into his hardening cock, trying to make it look like he was simply massaging his quad.  “My brain doesn’t think so clearly after a workout. Just blurts stuff out. Don’t mind me I’m normally…”   “No, I mean they are heavy. If you want to, you could lift them! Like, for exercise….” You try to joke, cunt pulsing with faint hope. “Might help with your problem.”   Changbin pretends to consider your offer, counting to five as he inhales, trying to keep himself from screaming enthusiastically. “Problem? I don’t have a problem.” Both of your eyes flit down to the outline in his shorts and back to each other.   “Sorry I just…” you mutter, heat of embarrassment pricking the tips of your ears. “I’m going to-” you start gesturing towards your usual treadmill in the corner window to escape from the entire incident. Even your lower half starts to turn, separate from your head, still bowed in apology, eyes to the floor.

 “Stop her, stop her now,” the thought clouds Changbin’s vision, “stop her this is it, you have to.” His hand catches your shoulder, halting your step, he thinks his heart may stop as well.   A tiny yip of shock bubbles from your lips. His grip is strong, stance solid, he plants you with him, unable to shake free even if you wanted to. You didn’t want to shake free.   “No, you’re right,” his eyes dart around the large space. The two of you basically the only people there. “If you want to help, I’d appreciate it. A lot. Before I have to leave.”   You blink. Stuttering incoherent vowels you follow him as he wordlessly turns and heads to an unmarked door in the far corner of the gym. Upon opening it, it’s clearly a staff bathroom, a single stall with harsh fluorescent lights and gray cement floors. The door clicks heavily and locks behind you. You don’t get much time to survey the surroundings before your back travels forcefully into the wall, Changbin caging you between his shoulders. Body pressed to you a small needy whine catches in his throat.   “You’re okay? You want to help me out?” He gulps, eyes wide. You nod as his hands clasp and drag all over your body, revealing in the indentations his fingers make. “Gonna let me fuck your tits? God I need to fuck your tits. They’re all I think about. Please let me fuck your tits please, god,” his mouth carries on and on a mile a minute as he feels as much of you as he can. Twitching and trembling he finally lets his hands cup your breasts through your bra. Heavy and plush in his grasp, it’s somehow exactly as he imagined and even better. “So soft, you’ll let me fuck them, yeah?”   “Ye-yeah-they’re sweaty but-” you apologetically murmur. His hands feel so good on your aching muscles, you wonder where else his hands would feel good. A flash of heat floods your sex.   “Sweaty fine. It’s good. Great.” He shuffles his shorts down around his ankles, “please, hurry, please.” His cock is red and angry, precum coating and shining the tip. Getting down to eye level with it, he’s thick, mouthwateringly so. Hesitating you consider wrapping your lips around the head, just to see how much of him you could fit, a personal challenge to surmount. He whines, a leg bending and twitching, “leave the bra on.”

  Your eyebrow shoots up but you oblige, sliding him under the band, nestled snugly between your mounds as you squeeze on either side. He eyelids flutter as the slip of sweat and precum coats his shaft. Sucking air in through his teeth he slowly thrusts along the tight crevice. The sight itself is enough to have him lightheaded, his cockhead just barely poking out of the top of your cleavage with each thrust upward, shiny and covered in body fluid.   He doesn’t even realize the sounds he’s making. Small grunts under his breath mixed with reedy whines. Most of your partners had been relatively quiet about their enjoyment save for a few dirty phrases whispered closely to your ear. Changbin was the opposite, virtually impossible to shut up.   “Feels good?” You encourage him further. “Tight around your thick cock?”  “So tight. So soft. Fuck.” His eyes close, brows furrowed in concentration. Your voice is so quiet and sweet and he just wants to ruin you, or be ruined by you. His legs tremble and clench. “Spit on it. Just a little. Slowly.”   Staring up at him you hold your tits in place, flush with his hips, and make a show of gathering spit in your mouth and slowly letting it drip from your tongue to the valley of your chest, gathering and sliding over the barely exposed slit of his cock. “Like this?”   Changbin swallows hard. “Yeah like that baby.” He shudders, hands cupping over yours, squeezing harder. Hips snapping forcefully his thumbs ghost over your nipples, pebbled and pressed to the fabric of the cups.   You thirst suddenly, mouth filling with spit. God damn it you want him so badly. You need to hear him cum, see his muscles tense and relax, watch as his face scrunches moments before everything becomes bliss. Your entire body thrums with need, tongue lolling out and down as if he fucked your breasts hard enough he could reach it. A worthy goal for him that he attempts, jostling you harder, grunting and groaning as he wills himself to breach the gap. Your bra is pink, your tongue is pink, your lips are pink, you’re all pink for him. His pink gym bunny.   Suddenly he does it, the hot salty slit of his cock hits the very tip of your tongue. You moan, unable to form words. He does it again as you push your jaw just a little bit lower, aching at the joint. He can’t believe it, the heat of your mouth even briefly has his brain foggy and vision blurring. His stance falters. Thighs tensing and cock resting on your sternum he cums, spilling the warm pearly substance across your collarbone. “Shit,” he mutters between moans. He can’t stop his hips slow rutting, spreading his release further down the chasm of your tits. “Sorry, I can clean- I can take care of this for you. Fuck.”  “You just want to touch my tits more, pervert.” You smile.   He smiles and laughs, “yeah maybe.”

Changbin is LITERALLY the hardest for me to write so I’m trying to get his done earlier in the month so i don’t burn out and give up. He’s my bias so like...nothing ever feels quite “right” when I write him. If that makes sense. 

However i love when others write him so please this is an open call for sending me your favorite Changbin centric fics in literally any pairing configuration.

[like-a-bantha]

Lost/Loss

Summary: Everything changed after Eriadu. Hunter becomes withdrawn, and you can't help but worry about him. You do what you can to show him you're there for him.

Pairing: Hunter/GN Reader (No Y/N, no descriptions of reader's appearance)

Rating: T

Warnings: Angst, mentions of major character death

Word Count: 1.7k

AO3 | Masterlist

One week of radio silence. Our contact was supposed to get back to us five days ago with intel on Hemlock and his captives. Instead, we’ve sat around on Pabu tensely awaiting a holocall that we’re beginning to lose hope in receiving.

Phee was kind enough to offer us room in her home, and free reign of her holotable, to act as a sort of base. It’s been quieter since we were last gathered around this table. The usual boisterous laughter and interrupted rants replaced with worried silence broken every so often by a sea breeze that no longer carries the joyous sound of Omega and Lyana playing just outside. That mission, Hemlock, the Empire, took so much from us; it’s taken an incredible amount of effort from Hunter, Wrecker, and I to not allow these forces working against us to take our hope on top of it all.

Echo and Rex referred us to this contact not long ago, someone who they’d worked closely with during the war, someone they trust. I commed Echo. Hunter advised against it, said it wasn’t worth it, that all we could do now was wait. I snuck out to the Marauder to use the long distance com anyways. Of course, the conversation was brief, and he has as much information as we do. Sit tight. Waiting game. All that.

“How’re they holding up?” His voice low, even with the volume adjusted to its highest setting. He’d mentioned returning to Coruscant last time we spoke, it must be the middle of the night there. We always did have terrible sleeping schedules.

“Not well, but I mean…” I trail off, we both know the reason, we both hold some foolish hope that not saying it will make it less true, “They miss you.”

“But you don’t?” There’s that sass, that glint of normalcy I’ve both craved and feared these past two months.

A laugh escapes me as if on instinct, it sounds foreign, “Nah, thought I’d never shake you. So clingy.”

“You’re one to talk, you do realize it’s 0100 here?”

This, our shared brand of humor and sarcasm, too, feels so distant to me now. Slowly, it comes back to me, “Oh, I’m so sorry, did I wake you up? Were you sleeping?” 

“Like a baby.” His warm chuckle crackles through the com speaker, and mine through his. The silence that follows is warm, easing his way into broaching the question, “I take it he’s distancing himself again?”

I sigh, a deep sigh only brought about by reality, “I get it, I really do — and, honestly as bad as it sounds, I wish I didn’t because this kriffing hurts — but withdrawing like this, I don’t know why he can’t see it’s only making the feeling worse.”

“Have you told him that?”

“‘Course. He just says something about how we can’t give up and stares at the holotable. I don’t want to give up, I can’t give up, I just hate seeing him like this.” 

Echo hums, but just as he begins to respond, static and unintelligible voices play loudly through the speaker. “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go. Good luck.”

I nod, wiping at my misty eyes as I reach for the switch to end the transmission, “Be safe. Talk soon.”

Silence. Mournful, somber silence echoes through the lonely hull of the once lively ship. Everywhere my gaze falls sits a piece of their history, our history; one of Tech’s unfinished projects, a drawing of the ship Omega had called extra credit, Echo’s favorite brand of instant caf. Unable to withstand the weight of these memories, I decide to take my leave and the silence follows me back to the cottage.

I return to a rare sight: an empty house. No Wrecker sitting at the kitchen counter disassembling and reassembling explosives. No Phee asking him to take it outside. No Hunter hovering over the holotable awaiting a call. No com to tell me to hurry back, mustn’t have been an emergency.

I make my way over to the holotable, fingertips gliding across its rounded edge as I approach Hunter’s usual seat. When I pull out the chair, I’m met with a sight that would normally make me laugh. His shredded scarf that he’s grown so attached to, destroyed on our last mission to gather intel, along with his prized bandana that appears to have shrunken in the wash. The best I can muster is a bemused huff, taking the bundle of abused fabric into my arms as I sit. Suddenly, I’m struck with an idea. It could be a very stupid idea, of course, but a very good idea doesn’t always equate to a very smart idea. It’s a perspective thing and seeing as the only perspective available at the moment is my own, I figure I may as well get to it before more perspectives show up.

After careful work, I neatly fold remaining fabric and stash it in my pack with my tools; as the designated mender of the group, I know firsthand there is no such thing as too many fabric patches. Returning to the table, finished product tucked delicately in my vest pocket, approaching voices grow louder and louder.

“I’m telling you, it looks good! Stop fussing, leave it… yeah, like that,” Phee’s voice nears the door, and I’m sure I hear Hunter grumbling about something. The door whooshes open and my eyes widen with surprise. When I meet Phee’s gaze, she seems to silently plead for backup, “You’re back! What do you think?”

She gestures to an unamused Hunter, visibly fighting the urge to fidget with the hat he’s wearing. It doesn’t look bad on him, very few things would, but he doesn’t exactly look comfortable. Unwilling to hold the spotlight any longer, he grabs the floppy brim and removes it from his head, tossing the garment onto the table as he takes the seat next to me. Unable to help myself, I lean forward with a smile and run a hand through his slightly disheveled hair.

“That bad, huh?” Phee sighs, Wrecker following closely behind as she heads for the kitchen.

“I liked it,” The glee still empty from his voice, even at something that would’ve garnered one of his trademark laughs a few months ago.

“Me, too, big guy.” Phee sets a crate of groceries on the countertop. Wrecker’s taken to cooking. Though he’s been much quieter these days, Wrecker seems like himself again when he’s preparing a meal.

Hunter’s gaze is locked on the table, silences between us were never tense like this. When he speaks, he doesn’t look at me. “How’s Echo.”

It isn’t a question, more of a remark, maybe even an I told you so if I really read into it. I answer it like a question anyway, “Good, but no word from the contact.”

He hums. The silence that follows deems the told you so unnecessary.

I reach into my vest pocket. Now’s as good a time as any. “I made you something.”

He hums again, gaze flicking away from the table for half a second in question. Right now, that’s probably the best I’ll get. I place an open palm on the table before him. After a moment's hesitation he rests his hand atop mine, palm up, and I look to his eyes as I delicately drape a band of maroon fabric with thin gold stripes across his fingers.

Hunter’s expression is unreadable, regarding the gift silently. I bite my tongue, attempting to hold in any preemptive apologies in fear that I may have overstepped. My flat expression shifts only when I see his eyes begin to well up, before the first sorry can push past the floodgates he turns to me with the faintest smile. A smile I haven’t seen in too long. His grip tightens around the bandana as he rushes to pull me into a tight hug. Instantly, my arms wrap around him, tears forming in my own eyes. “I love it,” his voice low, he places a kiss on my temple, “thank you.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do more.” My voice comes out a whisper, all of the words I hold back seem louder. “We’re going to get them back, Hunter.”

“Not without a fight.” He says grimly, holding me tighter, as if he’ll lose me the second he lets go.

“I know,” I pull back to look into his eyes, my hand coming up to cup his tattooed cheek, “but we fight as a team. We can’t keep bottling all of this up, we need to take care of each other, ourselves.”

Hunter rests his forehead against mine as he sighs, “You’re right.”

“I know. How’re you feeling?” He shuts his eyes as my thumb gently ghosts back and forth over his cheekbone.

He thinks for a moment before releasing me, opening his palm to look at the bandana in his hand. “Lost,” he turns the garment over, examining the back, “Loss. I couldn’t protect them. You, Wrecker, Phee, you’re all I’ve got now and I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect you either.”

“Tech protected us. Omega, too. I think it’s cruel to put that duty solely on yourself, Hunter. It’s an impossible weight to carry on your own,” A tear falls from my eye, quickly sliding down my cheek before landing on my pant leg, “please, let me carry some.”

“Giving it away doesn’t sound easy, either.” His own tears threaten to spill over, I hope I never get used to the subtle, somber shake in his voice, “But I’d like to try.”

When he looks up with a sad, weary smile, I can’t help but lean forward and place a small kiss to his lips. I begin to withdraw, but Hunter’s palm cups my cheek and pulls me back in for a longer, gentler and tearful kiss. This time, the silence that follows is peaceful as he rests his forehead against mine once more.

His loose hair falls around his face and I accidentally pull a few strands into my mouth as I inhale. He chuckles a bit as I pull away, a sound I’ve missed dearly. I can’t help but let out a small laugh of my own, reaching up to once again run a hand through his curls, “It’s gotten so long.”

Hunter smiles, turning the bandana over once more before presenting it to me, “Do the honors?”

With a smile and a nod, I take the cloth from his grasp, delicately wrapping the fabric around his head and tying a single knot.

“It’s perfect,” He places a soft kiss to my knuckles, taking my hand in his, “thank you.”

The holotable chirps. Incoming transmission.

A/N: Someone pointed out Hunter's hair looks longer, plus the new bandana, I just had to get this out of my system. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think, comments mean the world to me! <3

[kitsuneregin]

It hurts so much to love you (Yandere!Hanahaki Disease! Yeonjun x Reader)

It hurts...it really hurts...it feels like his lungs are on fire, he can barely breathe, every other breathe he takes he coughs up bloody white rose petals, your favorite flower. Yeonjun hunches over the sink as he hacks up more bloody petals, how long has it been a week or two, usually the symptoms come in slower but in Yeonjun’s case, they’re coming faster and faster. 

How did this all start how could he be so careless to not notice this disease much earlier...You, this all started with you. Your pretty smile and eyes, the way you giggle and laugh, your smooth smooth skin, your amazing personality. You were a trainee at HYBE getting ready to debut in a new girl group, Yeonjun had known of your existence for some time but meeting you...oh meeting you was a whole new experience, then it started.

It was the fever first, Yeonjun thought it was from overworking himself and his body telling him to stop for a moment, the next day he felt fine. Then the loss of appetite, he was always one to make sure people ate so it was ironic that he suddenly wasn’t eating so much, you had even taken notice at his weight loss. You would sneak snacks to him in passing, you were so kind and generous. Next came the shaking, this really was where he noticed something was wrong, Yeonjun was put to bed rest for the time being, however the disease grew worse. His body temp was dropping to an alarming rate, the staff had to take him to the hospital where they x-ray him. That’s where he saw it, it was small but noticeable, a flower in his lungs...but how? 

The doctor would inform Yeonjun that he had Hanahaki disease, Yeonjun was confused to be fair, this wasn’t a disease he’s ever heard of, then once it was explained to him it slowly made sense. Now here we are in Txt’s dorm where Yeonjun is stuck vomiting flower petals, it hurts so much...it’s getting worse day by day. 

Yeonjun was given the option to have the flower surgically removed, but that meant he could no longer love romantically. The only other option was for you to love him back. Yeonjun looked at himself in the mirror his mouth covered in his own blood a petal stuck to his cheek, his eyes watery and red, his nose red, he looked horrible. Yet there you stood just behind him as beautiful as ever, your small hand feeling and rubbing on his back as you soothe him, it was comforting, it was soothing, it was burning, it was starting to hurt, it’s becoming more and more painful, it’s agony. Yeonjun hunched over the toilet to vomit more bloody petals. Hallucinations were another symptom, Yeonjun wiped his mouth and stood up. 

He doesn’t want the surgery...so the only other option is for you to love him. Yeonjun cleaned himself up, he made his way to the company and looked for you, of course you were in the dance studio. Yeonjun smiled as he watched you dance to the music, the way you follow the music with your body, the smile on your face. Yeonjun was about to enter when another male trainee came into view, he walked up to you smiling as he placed his hands on your waist. The trainee pulled you in close as he kissed you on the lips. 

Time slowed down for Yeonjun as he watched with a broken heart at the display. The idol suddenly hacked up more petals, his lungs begging for air, Yeonjun was running out of time, he was going to die if he didn’t cure this stupid disease. Yeonjun felt tears prick his eyes as he fled from the scene and into a quiet area where he quietly sobbed. How could you do this to him, how could you betray him, he was in love with you. Do you not love him back? No...you have to love him back, you were so nice to him, you showed to care for him, is that not love? Yeonjun sniffled as he let his emotions set, if you don’t love him...he’ll make you love him. 

It would take longer than Yeonjun would have liked but he set his plan into motion. It was easy to lure that douche trainee to the top floor and a little shove was all it took to send him to his early grave. It would be plastered all over the news of a trainee’s suicide, with all the bad press Hybe decided to hold your debut till everything was cleared up...who knew how long that would take. Yeonjun would become your night in shining armor as you mourned you lover’s death. He was there for you from morning to night, he really was a great friend. You would join Yeonjun for a night walk at the park, it was empty at this time of hour but the stars were beautiful. Yeonjun would be coughing constantly which worried you, you’d ask if he was ok and then you’d see it, a bloody white petal in his hand, blood dripping from his mouth, his ragged breathing. 

Yeonjun turned to you his body towering over you as he smiled the blood noticeable on his teeth, he’d begin to rant about how he’s sick with this hanahaki disease and you were the reason for it, he’d ramble about how much pain he was in, each passing day becoming harder and harder to bear. “I could get surgery, but I wouldn’t be able to love romantically ever again...I don’t want that, so instead you’re gonna love me...just how I love you, you made me sick....so you’ll make me better” 

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Want The Heat

(Kill Somebody Like You Part Two Chapter Fifteen)

🔪Previous Parts Here🔪

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO dynamics (knots, slick, heats, ruts, mpreg), past abuse, past SA, alpha serial killer/hitman Dom, omega mob boss Kells, baby fic, cursing, d/s dynamics, mentions of murder, graphic descriptions of murder, descriptions of murder used as foreplay (this chapter is a bit fucked, just a warning), threats, voyeurism, top Dom, bottom Kells, talks of double penetration, talks of toys, playful insults, edging, pushing each other's buttons, dildo play, masterbation, control and submission, mating cycle talk, breastfeeding/kink, biting/marking, overwhelmed boys, sex, alpha/omega posturing, enemies to lovers ❤️‍🔥 Rating: explicit AF

All ideas helped by @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🩷

The Alpha watched as his mate walked across the room. More accurately he tracked his every move. Colson could feel his gaze like a weight and he wondered if James was even watching, he couldn't feel anything but Dom. When he reached the couch he walked in the space behind it instead of presenting and looked out the window to see if he could spot the other man. He knew he was pushing it but he still wanted his partner to dominate him. Make him do as he was told.

Dominic growled and pushed his boxers off before he stalked across the room and jumped onto the back of the sofa, crouching on the edge like some gargoyle with a monster cock. His eyes dropped, he couldn't help it. The boy's knot was already threatening to pop and he felt his thighs dripping wet at the thought. “I told you wha’ to do.”

Col leaned against the window and crossed his arms. “Yeah you did. Doesn't seem like I did it.” He sighed back and got the glare he wanted. “You look ridiculous sitting like that. Like fucking Gollum if he was hung like a horse.” That drew a laugh from the other but a look came over him, an arched brow, a playful glint.

“I know ‘ow much you like a monster. I seen wha’ you buy to use on tha’ pretty tight cunt of yours.” Dom purred.

Kells fought not to blush but he did glance away for a moment, his first loss in the game between them. He'd been collecting dildos of all shapes, sizes, and types but it was more to satisfy his old need for variety than anything else. He didn't want anyone but his fiancé but he was used to exploring his kinks with all types of beta girls. It wasn't just for him though, he had plans to use them on the Alpha as well. “They're for both of us. Gonna need something to fuck you with when you knock me up again.” That got a rise out of the killer, his dick visibly twitching and a bead of drool slipped down his chin.

Dom smiled and leapt off the couch to move for the toy drawer. They had different ones for different things but all the bigger toys were in the closet. He came back after a moment with a surprisingly manageable sized dildo and when he came closer he pushed the couch away with one hand. The show of strength was incredibly Alpha and should have bugged Col but did quite the opposite. When they were chest to chest Dom dropped to his frog crouch, and pressed the phallus between the omega's thighs. He made sure it was well drenched before he licked the suction base and stuck it to the glass behind Kells.

“What's the point of this?” He huffed but he was shaking. His lover was looking at him as if he were a whole meal.

“If you so uninterested in me you can fuck ya’self.” Dom shrugged as he stood up and leaned against the back of the sofa.

“I didn't say I wasn't interested.”

“No no. You was making fun. So... go fuck ya’self.”

It started to hit the omega what he was truly seeing. This was the killer. The predator. The side of his mate Dom was so careful to keep away from him. He couldn't hide it now that he was so consumed with his rut and murderous urges. He hadn't killed in too long and it was overwhelming him as much as his cycle was. Col watched as Dom pet over the faint scar on his chest. He didn't wear the elephant pendant anymore since they were being watched by the feds and that was Yungblud’s calling card but the last time he'd completed his ritual he'd put the necklace back on too soon and branded himself just slightly. The older man stepped closer and pressed his fingers there. “You never tell me about it all. How did the elephant start?” He always kept his ritual quiet but Kells wanted to learn more. He wanted to prove he'd love him no matter what. It was an inopportune time but that didn't matter. It wouldn't be hard to make it sexual. He was pretty sure it already was for his partner.

“It were a present from Blain before we stopped seeing each over. I never took it off.” Dom explained softly. It was mad to him he didn't realize who the boy was when he saved him. It broke him that he didn't recognize someone who meant so much. “When me mum died and I went back to save me girls… I didn't jus' kill ‘im. It started as a fight. I didn't plan it. He ‘it me first and I fell and smacked me ‘ead on the fireplace. He must ‘ave seen the necklace and been upset tha’ we lost such a good ‘mega. He ripped it off me and tossed it in the fire. It broke me. I destroyed ‘im. Made ‘im pull it out. I liked the way the burn looked on ‘im and it felt right tha’ it be the symbol of revenge. A gift from an omega.”

Colson nodded and kissed his mate's cheek before he stepped back and lined the toy against his core. He wanted to reward Dom for opening up. It wasn't what he needed most but he grinded against it, feeling slick drip down his thighs. “And when you kill… How do you do it? Like, what's the process?” He asked, his voice going soft. He'd already mostly forgotten they were putting on a show for someone else.

The Alpha smirked and moved closer, turning his lover around. Colson groaned when his cock pressed against the glass but he didn't move. He was becoming more pliant for the other too soon. He tried to look back but he couldn't see Dom very well. He felt him drop though from the soft rush of air. “I start wiv the tendons. Ankles. So ‘ey can't run away.” The killer purred, nipping Col's heels on both sides hard enough to make him feel weak. He moved next to the back of his knees and licked over them. “And ‘ere…”

The Alpha worked up Colson's body and spread him out, nipping or kissing anywhere he would cut on his victims. Once he'd covered every spot he laid against his fiancé's back and rolled his hips, his dick grinding between the older man's ass cheeks. “What next? How- mmm- how do you kill them?”

“Depends on wha’ I was after ‘em for. If it's for sexual shite I'd castrate ‘em first. Cut off wha' was used to cause pain.” He explained, his fingers groping the omega's balls before stroking lovingly and slowly over his cock. “I'd cut ‘em open, pull out ‘eir insides slow and show ‘em to ‘em.” His voice was barely above a growl as his hand pet over the inked expanse of Col’s belly. He ran his nails over where he'd make the cut before his touch ran higher, teasing over his chest. One of his wrist brushed over the omega's nipple and they both noticed when he got wet there and between his thighs. The milk was always tempting for Dom but now it felt almost impossible. He only kept control because he knew they were doing something important. He wasn't done playing with his lover.

“What about me? You were planning on killing me, right? How were you going to do it?” He knew it was a fact but it was one they barely ever talked about. They made jokes about how they'd begun but they never went into detail.

“Well you jus’ sold people. I fhought. So wiv you…” The Alpha trailed off and scratched his nails in the middle of Col’s chest again. “I would ‘ave cut you ‘ere, broken open ya ribs, and tried to show you ya ‘eart before you died. Ain't never made it tha’ far. Always die wiv the cut cause I can't ‘elp bleeding ‘em first.” He explained, licking over his mate's shoulder, up his throat, to kiss his jaw. “But ‘en I realized you got a tight pretty pussy and tha’s the only part of you I wanted inside.” He teased.

“Liar.” Kells whimpered back. “You want my mouth, my ass, and I think you'd fuck any hole you cut in me.”

“I don't want you ‘urt.” Dom growled as he stood back and turned Colson around with such force it almost knocked the wind out of him. It was obvious the words were true but scared him. He didn't want his partner hurt but part of him loved blood. He couldn't help it. Blood, sex, and pain were all mixed up in his head. The killer dropped his hand between the omega's legs and pushed the toy harder against his cunt until Colson moaned. “So wha's ‘ese for anyways? You say me but I fink you like ‘em too.”

“Double penetration. Or um… both my holes.” The man tried to be more honest because Dom had. He felt himself flush because he hated admitting he enjoyed being fucked but he was far enough gone to be open. He was aching hard and river wet and drenched in sweat. He knew Dom was the one in rut but he was starting to feel like the one out of control. Of course his mate would still have himself in check.

“So you want…” Dom didn't even finish his question he just picked his partner up and groped his ass, spreading him open and rubbing his hole against the toy.

“You picked this one for it didn't you? You wanna play with my ass?” Colson asked and his bitch grinned wide. He needed to stop thinking of him as that though, his lost boy was all man and seemingly beast as he stared up at Kells with his crooked fangs on display. “You can.” He sighed. He was partly terrified, they hadn't really tried anal on him much besides a finger occasionally. The dildo was small enough it could slide in without hurting him but he knew he was getting a pounding either way.

“Say please.” Dom demanded, his voice rasped and dark. It danced over Col's skin and made him shiver. “Say ‘please Alpha, fill me ‘oles.’”

The omega shook but he took a deep breath and tried to reply flatly. He knew his voice was trembling and needy though. “Please Alpha, fill my h-holes?” When that obviously pleased the younger man he added with a whine. “Fuck me full? Knot my pussy? Breed me?”

That fucking did it. That broke something inside the killer. He was trying so hard to keep a measure of control but even knowing he probably couldn't yet, that Colson's body was still healing from the last whelp, it still set off his rutting instincts until he felt wild.

He moved quickly and sure, holding Kells up with one hand and he dropped the other to hold the toy where it was needed. His lips slammed against his mate's as he dropped the older man gently and worked the dildo inside him. It always made Colson a wreck that his Alpha was so fucking strong he could control his entire body with one hand. He choked on spit when the toy jammed into his spot but he knew his fiancé wouldn't let him breathe and still had more for him to feel. “‘Ow’s tha’ feel?” Dom purred, his lips pressed wetly against his cheek.

“Mmm fuck- g-good. More? Need you.” He almost begged.

“I told you to fucking present but I guess you can ‘ave a taste of wha’s to come. Cause it may not be you yet.” The killer vowed.

Before Kells could speak again the blunt head of Dom's dick was sliding deep in his guts and hitting home. He felt fuller than he'd ever been and he swore he was bigger in rut. A noise escaped him, one he couldn't name but he knew it felt ripped from his soul. He couldn't move, he was pressed so hard against the glass and his lover, but he tried to wiggle and meet his rough thrusts.

Even though they were finally connected, Dom wasn't losing himself like his partner hoped. He wanted to be destroyed but the Alpha was controlling himself annoyingly admirably. He pressed biting kisses to his lips and clenched his inner walls tight, his heels dug into the killer's back. He made every move he could think, even sucking the other's tongue like he would his dick, but Dom was being so careful. Every hip roll was measured, every pound of his cock was aimed perfectly, but that's not what he needed. What he craved.

“I thought you were going to f-fuck me?” He stuttered out and the Alpha growled at him.

“You piss me off sometimes. Fucks sake you won't be ‘appy till I make you bleed aye?” Dom was scared to let himself off his leash entirely but he was close to snapping. His palm slapped hard against the glass next to his mate's head but he wanted to smash through it with his fist just to keep himself calm. “I told you wha’ the fuck to do. I bloody told you. You get wha’ you get when you don't- fuck- when you don't- mmm-” He was losing himself in the push and pull pleasure even though it wasn't what his cycle needed. He couldn't command the other if he couldn't keep his thoughts straight. The feel of his fiancé's cunt was always overwhelming, the omega was hot and so drenched they were squelching with every move.

His hand moved, his fingers tangling in Col’s sweat wet hair so he could tug his head to the side. His fangs scraped over inked skin and his tongue traced the sweet racing pulse before he licked over his candy adams apple. He was so far gone he was tempted to take a bite and the thought of crimson blood pushed him closer to the edge. His instincts needed the other to present but he needed to cum. His knot throbbed, his body shook, and with one gentle prick of his teeth-

One thing they'd both forgotten was the simple fact that they weren't alone. Punk had slept happily in his crib most of the night but as both men were about to reach rapture he screamed his little lungs out and where Colson had been rocking between his lover and the toy his mothering instincts took over and he pushed at his partner's chest. Dom was so close to release he growled out and nearly bit down on his omega's neck. For just a moment he thought about not letting himself be pushed off. “Let someone else get ‘im.” He demanded but Col just laughed.

“They can hear us. They won't come in while we're fucking. Give me a minute to feed him and I'll give you exactly what you want. Deal?”

Red eyes glared up at him but after a moment he of course gave in. His dick slipped free with a rush of slick and precum following it, and Kells pulled himself carefully off the dildo. His gait was unsteady but he forced himself to walk across the room to pick up his other grumpy boy. “Trying to be the best cock block you can huh? That was a low blow little one.” He cooed as he got the baby settled against his chest.

“I should make you fucking present right now while you feed me whelp.” The words weren't expected but they made the omega somehow even wetter. The thought was tempting.

“Will you?” He asked, he knew he could pull it off but it would make his own rapture harder to find.

The sticky sounds of self pleasure had him turning his head to find his mate doing exactly what he thought. His gaze tracked that beautiful strong hand as it stroked that monster cock. He wanted more than anything to jump on it but he had to calm their child first. Besides, that wasn't what would satisfy either of them. “Fink you can get off on jus’ me knot or are you slut enough you need the bloody toy?”

“Don't be a bitch. You know you do it for me. You're the one who got it out.” He huffed back.

“I should shove one in every ‘ole till you learn to fucking listen. You love making me desperate but you a right cunt when you need to be topped. Can't let go for even me?” The last was obviously a truthful worry but Colson was sure he had at some point. Their first few nights together he thought he was open and needy.

“Are you really gonna waste that on jacking off?” Kells asked instead of facing the point. His core was aching with the sound that felt louder than it should.

“Depends on ‘ow fast you get done. Best milk fast luv. Close. So fucking close.” The Alpha purred, the noises getting faster.

“And if I present anyway?” He was almost nervous at the thought. He wondered how fast he could get one of their family members to the door to take his happily feeding boy.

“You wouldn't.”

“Wouldn't I?”

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @fenoy7 @cole-way-iero28 if anyone wants tagged let me know 💛

Sorry for the cliffhanger but... Maybe I'm not. I'm still not sure how this is going to go 🤭 Will Colson present with a baby on his chest or will he let Dom cum and try to get him hard again? I suppose we'll find out soon but I hope you're all still enjoying it 🖤❤️‍🔥

[edgessunflower]

Piano

Pairing: Bianca Belair x Fem reader

Description: Bianca finds you playing the piano and singing a song in a moment of grief

You felt like you were still in a daze after getting a call from your mom saying your sister had passed away twenty minutes earlier after a car accident while returning home from work. Bianca had been at Naomi's when she came home to the house being completely silent as she walked in before hearing the piano playing as she walked to the living room only to find you playing the piano while crying as you played "Casper's lullaby" from Casper which was one of your sister's favorite movies when the two of you were kids and she loved the emotion filled track of Casper's lullaby he shared with his mom, you finished playing the song as tears flowed down your face not knowing bianca had come home during your moment of heartbreaking realization and the beginning of your agonizing grief for your older sister Christina as bianca slowly walked to you as you noticed her out of the corner of your eye. "What's wrong baby?" you looked at her with the most heart breaking look before shaking with cries as you played another song from the E.T. soundtrack stopping halfway through from your growing sobs leaning against bianca as she wrapped you in her arms, "My sister is passed away..." bianca felt her heart shatter hearing the pure pain in your voice as she held you tighter as the dark heavy cloud of grief began to set in for christina who was your keeper and best friend for all your childhood and the two of you were still close even as you both grew older and christina got married to her longtime boyfriend Tony a few years back and god you couldn't even begin to imagine what tony was feeling right now as you sobbed in bianca's arms while telling her what had happened to christina who ended up passing away in the hospital after doctors tried over and over to help and revive her when her heart stopped after her blood pressure and heart rate skyrocketed then dropped during emergency surgery. She ended up bleeding out from intestines and her spleen that bursts from the impact of the vehicle, "I'm so sorry honey" she kissed the top of your head as you told her how your sister loved playing piano before slowly finishing the song as bianca watched and listened until you were laying in bed after showering melting in bianca's arms as she whispered to you softly through your tears until you were asleep which would be the first of many moments of bianca slowly helping you through your grief over the next few months wondering how you got lucky to have bianca by your side as you felt the weight of grief and loss slowly lift off you.

[farhankhan12]

Achieve Your Ideal Body: Explore the Top Weight Loss Products for Women

In today's world, where appearance plays a significant role, achieving and maintaining an ideal body weight is a common aspiration for many women. However, with numerous weight loss products flooding the market, it can be challenging to identify the most effective ones. In this article, we will explore the top weight loss products for women, focusing on Couplehealthcare, a website known for providing the best weight loss products specifically designed for women.

I. The Importance of Weight Loss for Women

A. Health benefits of weight loss

Maintaining a healthy weight is crucial for overall well-being. Weight loss offers numerous health benefits for women, including:

Reduced risk of chronic diseases: Excess weight has been linked to an increased risk of conditions such as heart disease, diabetes, and certain types of cancer. Losing weight can significantly reduce these risks.

Improved cardiovascular health: Losing weight can lower blood pressure, improve cholesterol levels, and enhance heart function, reducing the risk of heart disease and stroke.

Enhanced mental well-being: Achieving a healthy weight can boost self-esteem, body image, and overall mental health, leading to improved confidence and a more positive outlook on life.

B. Boost self-confidence and body image

Attaining an ideal body weight can positively impact a woman's self-confidence and body image, promoting a healthier relationship with her own body and improving overall self-esteem.

II. Understanding Weight Loss Products

A. Dietary Supplements

Dietary supplements are popular among those seeking weight loss. They can support the body's natural processes and aid in weight management. Key points to consider include:

Role of supplements in weight loss: Supplements can provide essential nutrients, increase metabolism, suppress appetite, and enhance fat burning, helping women achieve their weight loss goals.

Common ingredients and their benefits: Look for supplements containing ingredients such as green tea extract, caffeine, garcinia cambogia, and conjugated linoleic acid (CLA), as they have been shown to have potential weight loss benefits.

Notable supplements recommended by Couplehealthcare: Couplehealthcare offers a curated selection of high-quality weight loss supplements specifically tailored for women. These products undergo rigorous testing to ensure safety and efficacy.

One of the best weight loss supplements recommended by Couplehealthcare is Catherine herbal weight loss tea. This supplement is formulated with a unique blend of natural ingredients that work synergistically to promote weight loss. It contains green tea extract, which boosts metabolism and fat oxidation, as well as garcinia cambogia, known for its appetite-suppressing properties. Numerous customer reviews and success stories highlight the effectiveness of this supplement in helping women shed excess pounds and achieve their weight loss goals.

B. Meal Replacement Shakes

Meal replacement shakes offer a convenient way to manage calorie intake while providing essential nutrients. Consider the following points when exploring meal replacement shakes:

Overview of meal replacement shakes: These shakes are designed to replace one or two meals per day, offering a balanced mix of protein, carbohydrates, and healthy fats in a low-calorie package.

Benefits and considerations: Meal replacement shakes can aid in portion control, reduce calorie intake, and provide essential nutrients. However, it's important to choose shakes that are nutritionally balanced and free from artificial additives.

Couplehealthcare recommends Catherine Herbal Weight Loss Tea, a top-rated meal replacement shake specifically designed for women. This shake is packed with high-quality protein, fiber, vitamins, and minerals to support healthy weight loss. It is free from artificial sweeteners and offers a delicious and satisfying option for women looking to manage their calorie intake and achieve their weight loss goals.

C. Fitness Equipment and Gadgets

Fitness equipment and gadgets can enhance physical activity levels, boost metabolism, and contribute to weight loss efforts. Consider the following points when exploring fitness equipment and gadgets:

Role of fitness equipment in weight loss: From treadmills and stationary bikes to resistance bands and weights, fitness equipment provides opportunities for cardiovascular exercise and strength training, both of which are essential for weight loss.

Popular fitness gadgets for women: Fitness trackers, smart scales, and smartwatches can help monitor activity levels, track progress, and provide motivation throughout the weight loss journey.

Couplehealthcare recommends investing in [Product Name], a high-quality fitness gadget designed to help women track their activity levels, monitor calories burned, and set goals. This gadget offers features such as heart rate monitoring, sleep tracking, and a user-friendly interface, making it an excellent companion for women on their weight loss journey.

III. Couplehealthcare: Your Trusted Source for Weight Loss Products

A. Introduction to Couplehealthcare

Couplehealthcare is a trusted website dedicated to providing the best weight loss products specifically designed for women. Their mission is to help women achieve their weight loss goals in a safe and effective manner, considering their unique needs and challenges.

B. Quality assurance and certifications

Couplehealthcare ensures the safety and efficacy of the weight loss products they recommend through rigorous quality assurance measures. These products undergo thorough testing to guarantee their purity, potency, and adherence to quality standards. Couplehealthcare also collaborates with third-party certifications and affiliations to further validate the quality and reliability of their recommended products.

C. User-friendly interface and customer support

Couplehealthcare's website offers a user-friendly interface that allows women to navigate through a wide range of weight loss products, read detailed descriptions, and make informed decisions. Additionally, Couplehealthcare provides prompt and helpful customer support, offering assistance and guidance to women in their weight loss journey.

Conclusion

Achieving the ideal body weight is a journey that requires dedication, knowledge, and the right tools. By exploring the top weight loss products for women, such as the recommended weight loss supplements, meal replacement shakes, and fitness gadgets, you can make informed choices and maximize your chances of success. Couplehealthcare's commitment to providing the best weight loss products specifically designed for women ensures that you can trust their recommendations and find the support you need on your weight loss journey. Remember to consult with healthcare professionals before starting any weight loss regimen to ensure it aligns with your individual needs and overall well-being.

[burnandthrive]

Weight Loss Products for Women

Weight loss is a journey that millions of women embark on each year. With countless products on the market, it can feel overwhelming to decide which ones will actually help you achieve your goals. From dietary supplements to meal plans and fitness gadgets, the choices seem endless. This article will break down some of the most effective and popular weight loss products for women while offering tips on how to choose the right ones for your unique needs.

Understanding Weight Loss Products

Weight loss products typically fall into a few main categories:

Dietary Supplements

Meal Replacement Shakes

Fitness Equipment and Wearables

Health and Fitness Apps

Detox Teas and Cleanses

Each category has its benefits, and the best results often come from combining multiple approaches.

Top Dietary Supplements for Women

Dietary supplements are one of the most widely used weight loss tools. They often contain ingredients that boost metabolism, curb appetite, or support fat burning. Here are a few popular options:

1. Glucomannan-Based Supplements

Glucomannan is a natural fiber that absorbs water in your stomach, promoting a feeling of fullness. It can help you eat less and make sticking to a calorie deficit easier. Products like Leanbean are specially formulated for women, combining glucomannan with vitamins to support energy levels.

2. Green Tea Extract

Green tea extract is packed with antioxidants and compounds like EGCG, which can boost metabolism and support fat burning. Many women find green tea supplements a great addition to their routine for steady progress.

3. Thermogenic Fat Burners

Thermogenic supplements work by increasing your body's heat production, helping you burn more calories even at rest. Look for products with natural ingredients like cayenne pepper, caffeine, and L-carnitine for an effective boost.

Pro Tip: Always consult with a healthcare provider before starting any supplement to ensure it’s safe and suitable for you.

Meal Replacement Shakes for Busy Women

If your lifestyle doesn’t allow for preparing healthy meals every day, meal replacement shakes can be a lifesaver. These shakes are formulated to provide balanced nutrition while keeping calorie counts low. Here are a few top-rated options:

1. SlimFast Advanced Nutrition

This line of shakes is high in protein, low in sugar, and fortified with vitamins and minerals. They’re perfect for women who want a quick and satisfying meal replacement.

2. Huel Black Edition

Huel’s Black Edition is a plant-based shake that’s gluten-free and contains no artificial sweeteners. It’s designed for women seeking clean ingredients and balanced macronutrients.

3. Isagenix IsaLean Shakes

IsaLean Shakes are rich in protein and come in a variety of flavors. They’re also fortified with probiotics to support gut health, which is vital for weight management.

When incorporating meal replacement shakes, aim to use them for one or two meals per day, but always include whole foods in your overall diet.

Fitness Equipment and Wearables

Staying active is crucial for weight loss, and having the right tools can make it easier to stick to your fitness routine.

1. Resistance Bands

Resistance bands are affordable, versatile, and perfect for home workouts. They’re great for building muscle, which increases your metabolism.

2. Smartwatches and Fitness Trackers

Devices like the Fitbit, Garmin, or Apple Watch help track your steps, heart rate, and calories burned. These tools can motivate you to move more throughout the day.

3. Adjustable Dumbbells

Strength training is essential for sustainable weight loss. Adjustable dumbbells allow you to perform a variety of exercises without taking up too much space.

Health and Fitness Apps

Mobile apps can provide personalized guidance and keep you accountable. Some of the most popular apps for women include:

1. MyFitnessPal

This calorie-tracking app is a favorite for its comprehensive food database and easy-to-use interface. It also integrates with fitness trackers for a complete overview of your progress.

2. Noom

Noom takes a psychological approach to weight loss, focusing on mindset and behavior change. It’s ideal for women who struggle with emotional eating.

3. Sweat

Founded by fitness trainer Kayla Itsines, Sweat offers home and gym workouts tailored to women’s fitness goals. It also includes meal plans and progress tracking.

Detox Teas and Cleanses

Detox teas and cleanses have gained popularity, but it’s important to choose products that prioritize safety and effectiveness.

1. Teami Blends Detox Tea

Teami’s natural tea blends promote digestion and reduce bloating. Many users report feeling lighter and more energetic after completing their 30-day detox.

2. SkinnyMint 28 Day Teatox

This two-step tea program includes a morning boost and an evening cleanse, helping to kickstart your metabolism while flushing out toxins.

3. Herbalife Herbal Tea Concentrate

This tea concentrate is low-calorie and comes in various flavors. It provides an energy boost and supports digestion without harsh laxatives.

Caution: Avoid relying solely on detox teas for weight loss. Use them as a supplement to a healthy diet and exercise plan.

Tips for Choosing the Right Products

With so many options available, how do you choose what’s best for you? Here are some tips:

Define Your Goals: Are you looking to lose fat, gain muscle, or improve overall health? Different products cater to different needs.

Read Reviews: Check out user feedback and testimonials to gauge the effectiveness of a product.

Prioritize Safety: Look for products with natural ingredients and avoid anything with excessive artificial additives.

Start Small: Test one product at a time to determine its impact on your weight loss journey.

Why Combining Strategies Works Best

No single product is a magic bullet for weight loss. Combining dietary supplements, meal replacements, and physical activity will yield the best results. Use fitness apps and trackers to stay motivated and on track.

If you’re ready to take the first step toward a healthier you, explore our top recommendations and resources at Burn and Thrive. Whether it’s finding the perfect supplement or building a sustainable meal plan, we’re here to help you succeed.

Final Thoughts

Weight loss products for women come in all shapes and sizes, from supplements and shakes to fitness tools and apps. The key is finding what works best for your lifestyle and goals. By combining the right products with a balanced diet and regular exercise, you can achieve sustainable results.

Don’t wait to start your journey. Visit Burn and Thrive today for more tips, product reviews, and expert advice tailored to your needs.

[storeelaus]

How Do Herbalife Nutrition Products Support Your Wellness?

Because they contain vital nutrients that regular diets may not offer, nutrition products can be quite helpful in promoting overall wellness. Their determination is to provide a well-rounded mixture of proteins, vitamins, and minerals that can improve energy levels, growth metabolism, and encourage worthy weight control. These nutrition solutions also often emphasize ease, which makes it easier to keep up a strong lifestyle even in the face of a hectic schedule. General, they are beneficial to corporeal health and wellbeing.

Inspect the Health and Nutrition Products' Benefits

It might be demanding to maintain a healthy existence and balanced diet in the fast-paced world of today. For persons observing to improve their health and well-being, herbalife products online provide a handy choice. People can discover the ideal assistance for their particular health objectives from a variety of options, such as herbalife nutrition goods and herbalife weight loss items.

Supplements from Herbalife for Best Health

The necessary nutrients that may be missing from your even diet are supplied by Herbalife nutrition additions. These goods regularly contain premium proteins, vitamins, and minerals that promote general fitness. It's easy to select the perfect product for your tastes with so many possibilities available in different flavors and forms.

Efficiency in Herbalife's Weight Loss Line

Herbalife Weight Loss Products might be an outstanding complement to a healthy lifestyle for persons who are trying to control their weight. By boosting a sensation of fullness and offering essential nutrients, these products are designed to encourage weight management. People can successfully work toward their herbalife products for weight loss objectives by combining these strategies with a healthy diet and exercise routine. When these products are used in conjunction with a healthy lifestyle, many consumers report favorable outcomes.

Top-Rated Herbalife Supplements Obtainable Online

Herbalife Supplements Online are a great method to improve your health in addition to nutrition items and weight loss resolutions. These supplements are designed to help through a number of health issues, including immune system support, better energy, and digestive health. There is no shortage of options accessible, even if you're searching for a particular health benefit or want to improve your general wellness.

Herbalife Formula 1 for Nutrition

Herbalife Nutrition Formula 1 is one of the line's best-selling ingredients; it's a suitable meal replacement shake that proposals balanced nourishment. You may naturally incorporate this formula, which is full of vigorous nutrients, into your ordinary routine. This shake offers a tasty and wholesome choice that assists your health and wellbeing objectives, whether you need it for a quick breakfast or as a post-workout meal.

Find Herbal Remedies Online

Herbal Medicines Online is rising in addition to herbalife items. With their many health advantages, these natural solutions can support your road toward wellbeing. These goods offer many ways to support general health, such as herbal drinks and extracts.

The Greatest Video Game Console for Unwinding

Ordering health and well-being is vital, but so is making time for relaxation. Buying the best video game console may proposal an enjoyable and charming means of relaxing after a demanding day. An enjoyable and well-rounded existence might result from striking a balance between diet and recreational activities.

To sum up, you can greatly improve your overall wellness journey by introducing herbalife items into your daily routine in addition to herbal medicines and leisure activities.

[astarionancuntnin]

The Ways of Worship

summary: this faith was all you've ever known. so when you wake up a morning with the dreadful feeling that you've lost it, you do the one thing that makes sense - confess to your local priest. when he offers his guidance with the promise of making you whole again, you accept without a second thought. your first lesson begins tonight.

rating: E

word count: 4.2k

pairing: priest astarion x religious!reader

cw: 18+. priest+modern AU, smut, power imbalance, so many pet names (child, dear, darling, sweet, precious (little) lamb, one, angel, love), corruption so dubcon, light degradation, punishments (spanking), loss of innocence, groping, fingering, dom(astarion)/sub(reader), losta biblical imagery. full list on ao3.

a/n: none of these thoughts are in the bible

a/n²: inspo songs were BITE MARKS and worship by ari abdul

a/n³: all of the references about the church itself and the reader's experience are taken from my memory directly as i did grow up catholic (i wanted the experience to feel at least somewhat authentic for the introduction) (also, not catholic anymore). does that make it kinda self-indulgent? maybe, but all im saying is that i didnt have a religion kink before writing this piece.

ENJOY YOU DEPRAVED SLUTS

read on ao3

my masterlist

or keep reading down below~

Your relationship with God has been intricate.

You had always been a diligent follower; you recited your prayers, went to church every Sunday, carried a cross around your neck and had at least three of them in your house, at the top of each room’s entrance, for protection. You were baptised and followed all His learnings as you made it into adulthood, all without so much of a complaint. You were the prime example of a textbook follower.

Albeit, growing up in a catholic household — it was the only truth you knew — it was always one you seemed to have been following blindly. You wanted to believe, wanted to love Him — and most days you thought you did — but today, you woke up with the dreadful realisation that your faith had left you. 

You tried to pray and felt like an imposter, everything was out of place; the  pictures of you at your First Communion seemed to taunt you, the cross hanging from your neck felt heavier, uncomfortable. 

Any remaining feeling regarding your religion felt… off.

You thought of going to mass this Sunday to rectify the situation, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone would just know you didn’t belong, that they would sense you as a traitor amongst real followers. 

Even if you managed to drag yourself to church then, it was still days away, it wouldn’t make sense to go after waiting for so long; it would lose its purpose.

You would lose your purpose.

Then again, you couldn’t just sit here with this weight, this guilt that you had forsaken your Lord. You had to fix this, to ask for forgiveness for straying away from the rightful path; the only one you knew.

You eventually find the strenght to push yourself to go church in the following hours.

The impressive stone building that you used to look at with admiration and which once brought you an inner sense of peace, now seemed to look down on you. The chime of the bells resonated through you, as if ringing for your final hour, standing minutes away from your judgement.

As if this house of God knew of your sins — of your doubts — and it wouldn’t make it easy on you to absolve yourself of your mistakes.

Oddly enough, the interior was less daunting than its facade; it felt much, much smaller from the inside, as if the exterior was purposely made to make it seem bigger. It was also surprisingly dark considering the multiple stained glass adorning its walls, the colours from them blending between the aisles. Aside from you, there was only one other person you spotted sitting in the first rows, visibly praying. 

Perks of visiting in the middle of the week; people were too busy with their lives to pay a visit to the Lord. If you were to fumble this, there would most likely be no witnesses to your shame. This last part, at least, reassured you a little bit. 

You thought the hardest step you had to take was the first one you took into the church, but the second your eyes found the confessional booth, standing next to the last row of benches, your feet were stuck to the ground again; undecided between running away in shame or pushing through that first step in the right direction.

You grunted as the battle in your mind raged on.

What am I even doing, you thought to yourself. There’s probably no one in this booth and I’ll wait hours like a fool only to realise that the priest isn’t in today.

And you would be partially right: no one was inside.

But before you could turn on your heels and cower away, a new presence made itself known in the room.

From the corner of your eye, you spied a man — who you recognized as your priest, Father Astarion.

As he walked along the far end aisle, you noticed his usual attire; he wore his all-black tight robe with the white spot at his collar, along with his crucifix hanging from his neck. The rest of him, though, reflected a perfect contrast from his clothing: His curly hair, which was worn back and styled elegantly, arbored a platinum white colour. Almost as white as his skin — so pale he might’ve passed for a corpse — which really brought out his dark eyes. 

So dark, you often found yourself getting lost in them during mass. It wasn't rare that you would miss a part of his preaching and would only be brought back to Earth hearing the commotion around you as people grabbed their things to leave. 

He just had a way of moving that entranced you to follow him without a second thought. As if his connection to the Lord was even greater than he let on.

He stood tall as he walked leisurely towards the confessional you were aiming for, and you couldn’t help but admire his form. Given, you couldn’t see much as his well-fitted religious attire covered most of him, but you did notice the defined veins trailing right down to his hand resting in front of his figure, hands that bore long and strong fingers. Ones, you imagined, would feel rough against your skin if they were to—

You blink rapidly, shaking your head as you catch yourself before that thought drifts even further, your face flushed red by what you almost envisioned. What still floats around in your mind.

How could you even consider the caress of someone on you in a place so private? This was a man of God, for crying out loud. 

As if the reason for your presence here wasn’t enough, here you were, shamelessly fantasising about the very man who would decide if you were worth repenting. Two sins in one day, really? What was wrong with you? 

As Father Astarion steps into his side of the booth, vanishing from your vision, your consciousness comes back to you and breaks your frozen spell. You finally walk towards what would be your side of the confessional, stopping right before the threshold.

Why are you still doubting yourself? You’re already here, and the priest already saw you — he probably walked here for you, knowing your intentions. Just go inside, you’ll feel much better afterwards. 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, stepping inside and sitting down before closing the door behind you, now waiting for the shade on the other side to greet you. 

Seconds might’ve been minutes at this point, your heart was stuck in your throat, anxious at what was to come. He was in there, was he not? You saw him enter, did he not hear you come in? Were you supposed to knock?

When the partition slides back, leaving only a partial faint light passing through the other side, a warm, deep voice greets you.

“Welcome, my child.”

Oh, and his voice. It was already delightful when it echoed between the walls of the church, but up close it’s as if it rippled through you. Almost enough to make you forget to answer back.

“F— Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.”

“Tell me, how long has it been since your last confession?”

“A few years. This is my first time since my First Communion, Father,” you answer, your voice softer than usual.

“It is never too late to repent, child. It takes a lot of courage to step into the house of God and ask forgiveness; I commend you for taking the first step in the right direction. Now, what would you like to confess?”

You feel as if you could listen to him talk for hours, his voice soothed you in ways you never experienced before; it quieted down — at least temporarily— the shame that inhabited you.

“I… found myself questioning my faith, Father.”

“And yet here you are, confessing to your priest, at your church.” You think you can hear the smile he bears as he answers you. “It seems to me your faith still lies well alive within you.” 

“Yes, the irony isn’t lost on me Father, but…” you sigh, “Doesn’t this make me a sinner? Doubting of His existence, of His word… Am I even worth redeeming?”

“My dear, the fact that you came to me to confess this already shows me you want to believe, our Lord is lenient with His lost souls. Recite your Our Father throughout the week, three times before going to bed, and come to this Sunday's mass.”

“Thank you, Father, I will.”

He doesn’t answer back right away, and it gives you some time to reflect on his answer. 

It’s true, if you were a lost cause, you wouldn’t be here begging for the Lord’s forgiveness. You would be taking down the crucifixes in your home, taking down your pictures from your Confirmation, and any other religious signs displaced around your home as you moved away from this life. 

Then again, shouldn’t this be what you should be doing? If you doubted your faith in the first place, was this really meant to be your life?

When Father Astarion speaks again, you’re taken back from where your thoughts had drifted.

“Was there anything else weighing on your mind, my child?”

It’s almost as if he had read your mind.

“Yes, actually, I… I must admit this turn of events made me realise I’m not sure I’ve ever, truly believed in the first place… of my own volition.”

“I see.” He pauses briefly, “What did you expect from this confession, my dear?”

You sigh, “I’m not sure… My faith is all I’ve ever known. I don’t know what to do, and now I’m not sure if I’m meant for this life. As if everything I’ve known up to now had been nothing but a lie, and now that the opportunity to move on has made itself possible, I don't even know if I could go for it — if I should.”

You think you see his shadow move from the other side of the confessional, getting closer to the grid. “How does this make you feel?”

“Lost, confused. When I woke up this morning I felt…” you pause, looking for the exact feeling plaguing your mind. “Hollow, as if a part of me had vanished, and I don’t know how to make it right.”

Not a sound from the other side of the partition, and for a moment, you think the man sitting on the other side had been nothing but a fragment of your imagination, taunting you yet again for your drift of faith.

Just as you're about to ask for him, he speaks again.

“Would you like to believe, my child? Would you like me to show you what it means to worship — to devote yourself to a higher entity? To feel whole again?”

His voice had gone an octave lower — as if someone else had replaced the priest who had previously entered the booth — and you felt yourself drawn to it, tempted by the promise of guidance just a few words away.

“Yes, Father.”

“Good. Come back here at midnight, I shall teach you the ways of worship.”

Your heart was already pounding in your chest in anticipation.

—

The day couldn’t have felt any longer than it did. Every moment spent between rushing thoughts of what the night would bring, constantly eyeing the clock as the minutes passed by, doubting if you had even heard the priest right, but the second the clock struck midnight, here you were, back at your church.

It stood as a beacon among the dark street, the only building with a light at its porch, pulling you in like a moth to a flame.

You didn’t expect the doors to open at first; the church was usually closed at this hour, but as you pulled back on them, the doors opened up to you with a creak. When you stepped back in, your senses were struck with the strong aroma of old wood, burning candles, and incense. 

You took a few steps forward, examining your surroundings, and noticing how much darker it had become without the colours spraying from the stained glass. Aside from the few candles lighting the side aisles, only one spotlight remained, right over the altar.

You heard a click behind you and when you turned, nothing — or no one — was to be seen. Just in the event that you might’ve imagined the sound, you went back to the door to try and push it, only for it to remain in place.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

You quickly turn around, startled by Father Astarion's voice greeting you. You can’t see him, and with the echo of the church, his voice felt as if it came from everywhere all at once, almost as if the voice came directly from Heaven.

“Do not be coy, my sweet, little one. Approach the altar.”

How long he had been there, you couldn’t tell, and you didn’t see fit asking — this was his home as much as it was the Lord’s, after all — but he had appeared out of thin air without as much of a sound.

You walk along the main aisle, each step taken with a mix of incertitude and curiosity as you slowly approach him in silence, his person still hidden behind the beam of light.

“I see you already wonderfully apply the concept of obedience, dearest,” he purrs, and you shiver in your white summer dress in response — the nights had been warm but you suddenly find yourself questioning your choice of clothing. 

“Are you ready to begin your first lesson?”

There’s this uneasy feeling that inhabits you, telling you to run away from this place, from this man, but you ignore it — he is the voice of reason, and you are but a lost soul looking for guidance.

“Yes, Father,” you find your voice at last, although faint and gentle.

“Come closer, my lost lamb,” he says, more assertively. “Be not afraid, for I will guide you towards the light.”

Your feet move of their own accord as you speak up, “If I may ask, what will be the goal of this lesson?”

“You desire to believe of your own volition, do you not? To be shown the path for you to choose?” You nod. “Then I will show you the reach of our Lord.”

You reach the first step of the altar, where you stop, not daring to approach further.

“Close your eyes, and repeat after me.” And so, you obey, once again. With your eyes closed, you let his voice enrapture you, and you repeat every sentence back to him, both of your voices echoing the prayer between the walls of the church.

Father Astarion,

To you, I deliver my mind,

To mould in His image.

I deliver my body and flesh,

To use in His name.

I deliver my very soul,

To guide me back into His embrace.

I surrender myself to you,

To be reborn anew.

Amen.

“Open your eyes, my little angel.”

Father Astarion had taken a step forward, placing him right under the light that reflected against his platinum hair, creating a halo surrounding him. As he stood right between the statues of the disciples depicted around the altar, he looked like the Lord himself.

All but for one exception.

His eyes.

Not a trick of the light, they were indeed red. A deep, ruby red that shone vividly. In addition to his sharp traits enhanced under the holy light, he looked like a celestial being; an angel. 

You step back, unbelieving your eyes fixated on the creature before you, and you remain paralysed. You swear they used to be black–

“I was just like you, little lamb,” he steps towards you. “A lost soul, questioning the Lord’s existence — his word — and I lost my faith. Until I was shown His greatness, and I was guided back into His arms. Redeemed. The Lord has sent me specifically to take care of lost souls like yours. After all, who better to guide you than a fallen angel?”

He stood right in front of you now, his arms open, inviting you in.

“Are you ready to let the Lord enter you — mind, body and soul?”

When the words leave your lips, they're but a whisper.

“Yes, Father.”

The Lord Himself had sent an angel to deliver your punishment; how could you question His power now?

“Good, my little lamb.” 

He approaches you, each heavy step taken towards you creating a greater tension in your chest. 

“You need only follow my word.” He continues, “Our Lord will absolve you of your sins for as long as you obey.”

He circles behind you and his hands find your bare shoulders, making you gasp at the touch. 

They were just as strong as you imagined in your most depraved thoughts, but they were much, much colder.

“You trust me, do you not, my sweet?”

While one of his hands trailed along the side of your shivering arm, he slid a finger under the thin strap of your dress. Your heart beating away in your chest made it only harder to answer back.

“Y– Yes, Father.”

His breath down your neck created a warmth between your legs and a fog in your mind, and when he pushed the strap down your arm, you barely felt it.

When he reached for the zipper in your back and pulled down, you didn’t question it. 

When your dress fell down to the floor, revealing your body in its most humble form, you didn't cover yourself back.

“My precious little angel, you are a vision.”

Father Astarion remained behind you where you couldn’t see him as he whispered against your ear, and you wouldn’t move unless he ordered you to. You didn’t want to risk going against his word, not with him so close to you, not with the way his hand had moved to your front and brushed against your breasts ever so lightly, and down your navel. Not with the way his strong fingers felt wrapped around your throat, holding you in place.

When his other hand found your entrance, your knees buckled and a heavy breath left your chest.

“You devilish little thing, you are positively drenched." His raspy voice breathed down your neck, "Has a man ever touched you like this before?"

"No, Father, I- I wouldn't."

"Good girl," he purrs and you can almost feel his lips against your skin. "You keep yourself pure for our Lord, I commend you for your restraint."

His praise had you weak in the knees and warm at your core.

"Have you ever touched yourself?”

“N– No.”

Technically not a lie — you never touched yourself, but on nights where you imagined Father Astarion as close as he was now, it was hard for you to keep your thighs from rubbing together to relieve yourself of the ache that had built up.

“Have you ever thought about a man touching you this way before?”

“I…”

He had to be a mind reader, how else would he have known you were just thinking about this?

Met with your silence, Father Astarion growls in your ear, “Remember that lying is a sin, darling. You wouldn’t want to add another infraction to your holy record, would you?”

You bite your lip, remembering vividly the dreams you had about a priest you knew all too well and how the same fingers entering you now would feel.

“I have, F– Father.”

"Tell me, then, who did you imagine between your legs? Touching you, tasting you...” his tongue traced the side of your ear, earing a breathy moan from you. "Fucking you?"

You can feel your face burning up and your lungs fighting for air, as if Hell had taken place in this very church and the flames of temptation were threatening to swallow you whole for your sins.

“Y— You, Father,” you stutter.

“And you kept this to yourself? You lied to our Lord, to me, by avoiding this confession?” You shut your eyes in shame in answer. “Oh, you are much more depraved than I thought, child. We cannot let this go unpunished.”

You whimper when he removes himself from inside of you and walks back into the spotlight, leaving you with a mess between your legs and a racy heart in your chest.

“If you wish to be absolved, approach the altar.”

His change of tone instilled fear in each of your steps forward, but you advanced nonetheless.

“Bend over,” he ordered.

You do as you're told, hissing as your sinfully warmed up skin gets in contact with the cool marble surface of the altar. You were barely tall enough to fit on the high table, your hands grabbing onto the ledge for balance.

“You will recite the Our Father just as I instructed you, and you will do so without as much as a whine. Am I understood?” You nod. “Speak up, sinner.” “Yes, Father,” you answer, your voice already shaking.

“Good.” His feet push apart your legs, leaving you fully exposed and on your tiptoes, now relying completely on your arms for support. “Proceed.”

You take a deep breath and begin, “Our Father, who art in heaven– AH!”

You jump at the sudden contact of his hand over your sensitive skin.

“Start. Over.”

You gulp. “Our Father, who art in heaven, haa— hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom c– COME!” You scream as you receive this last spank, stronger than the previous one.

He groans, “Again.” 

“Please, I can’t—” you sob, the pain from his spanking breaking not only your body, but your spirit.

“Do you enjoy this?” He spanks you again, harder. “The sting of my hand against your skin?” And again. “The tears building up in your eyes?” And again. “Answer!”

“No!” You cry out. “Please, I beg you — mercy, Father please,” you plead, and plead, your voice drowned out by your sobbing.

“This is what you deserve for straying away from the rightful path, little lamb.” You arch your back as his hand grabs onto the base of your hair and pulls back. “Are you not willing to take your punishment, like a good little follower?”

“Please,” you keep begging. “I’ll do anything Father, anything but this, I beg you—” 

Your legs shake from the pain, knees buckling, and your arms fighting for dear life to hold on to the altar, which had been warmed up by your skin.

“If you are unwilling to receive your rightful punishment, we will need to reshape your will, little one.” 

At last, he releases your hair from his grasp and you collapse to your knees with a cry as both your arms and legs give out. 

With your face down panting, you don't even notice one of your hands still desperately holding onto the edge of the altar.

“I can show you a new path,” Father Astarion continues, his voice kinder than before. “One of pleasure and devotion.”

You jump when his hand touches you again, this time with a surprising gentleness that you find yourself leaning into as he strokes your wet cheek. 

“Another way for you to repent, so you may be absolved of your sins; by proving your faithfulness to me.”

His thumb wipes away the last tear that fell from your eyes, before lifting your chin up to him.

“You want to be known, to be tasted — I can offer you that. All you need to do is offer yourself to me. Do you wish to be mine, little angel?”

“Yes, Father,” you breathe out. “More than anything in the world.”

He blinks once softly and a smile appears on his thin lips.

“Then you shall be mine, as I shall be yours. For as long as you'll be on your knees for me, God will absolve you of your sins.”

His hand leaves your chin and you watch him as he sucks on the same thumb that erased your tears, before tracing a cross over your forehead with it, and you close your eyes basking in his tender touch.

“You will experience our Lord's presence inside of you in ways you have never experienced before. You will relinquish yourself to me and worship me without second thoughts. You will never feel hollow, ever again, little love.” 

When you open your eyes again, the holy light surrounding him almost blinded you with how much brighter it felt now that you were on your knees, under him.

“You will show me the same devotion you would God, as you’ll now refer to me as Lord.” Your Saint, your fallen angel, you Lord; you would worship the very ground he walked on, and spend the rest of your life repenting at his feet, as he was proof of a faith you dared to doubt in the first place.

The words leave your parted lips effortlessly, “Yes, my Lord.”

As he grins, you notice the sharp fangs in the corner of his mouth and finally see him for what he really is.

A wolf in sheep's clothing.

A devil in the house of God.

Your unholy punishment.

One that you accept as he dives his fangs into the crook of your neck, surrendering yourself to him, to be reborn anew.

Amen.

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

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[naturalihealthcare]

Top Safe Weight Loss Supplements for Women

Introduction

Let’s face it—losing weight is hard. Especially for us ladies! Whether it’s those pesky extra pounds that just won’t budge or the endless cycle of trying fad diets, many of us have been there. Supplements seem like the perfect solution, but with so many out there, how do you know which ones work and, more importantly, which ones won’t cause side effects?

The good news is, there are supplements that can help with weight loss, and they don’t come with the horror stories of jitteriness, crashes, or worse. In this article, we’ll take a deep dive into the best weight loss supplements for females that are effective and gentle, so you can shed those pounds without worrying about negative side effects.

Understanding Weight Loss Supplements

Before we get into the nitty-gritty, let’s talk about what weight loss supplements actually are. Essentially, they’re products designed to help you lose weight, either by boosting metabolism, reducing appetite, or promoting fat burning.

How do they work? Well, it depends on the supplement! Some increase your body’s ability to burn calories, while others might make you feel fuller, so you eat less. But the key takeaway here is that these aren’t magic pills—they work best when combined with a healthy diet and regular exercise. If only there was a pill for staying motivated at the gym, right?

The Importance of Safety in Weight Loss

With so many options out there, it’s crucial to choose supplements that are safe. You’ve probably seen stories about people experiencing scary side effects from sketchy products, especially ones with questionable ingredients or those advertised as “miracle” weight loss cures. It’s no joke. Unsafe supplements can do everything from causing severe digestive issues to increasing your heart rate, and trust me, no one wants to lose weight that way.

Why is this even more important for women? Our bodies are different, and many supplements that work for men might not have the same effect on us—or worse, they could affect hormones or cause unwanted side effects. So, let’s talk about the supplements that work without the downsides.

Top Natural Supplements for Weight Loss Without Side Effects

Now, let’s get into the good stuff! Here are some of the best natural supplements that are both effective and safe.

1. Garcinia Cambogia

You’ve probably heard of Garcinia Cambogia, and for good reason. This tropical fruit extract is rich in hydroxycitric acid (HCA), which helps block the enzyme that your body uses to store fat. Pretty cool, right? Plus, it may help reduce appetite by boosting serotonin levels, so you won’t find yourself eyeing that second slice of cake.

2. Green Tea Extract

Green tea is a superhero when it comes to weight loss! Packed with antioxidants called catechins, it helps burn fat and boost metabolism. The caffeine in green tea also gives you a natural energy lift, without the crash. So, swap out that afternoon coffee with green tea, and watch your body thank you.

3. Glucomannan

This funny-sounding supplement is a type of fiber that expands in your stomach, making you feel full faster. It’s like your body's own little “stop” button before you overeat. Since it’s a natural fiber, there aren’t any unpleasant side effects like you’d find with chemical appetite suppressants.

4. CLA (Conjugated Linoleic Acid)

CLA is a type of fatty acid found in meat and dairy that’s been shown to reduce body fat while helping you retain muscle. It’s like doing a trade: fat for muscle—now that’s a good deal!

5. Protein Supplements

Yep, even though we often think of protein shakes as “guy stuff,” they can actually be great for us too! Protein helps build muscle, which in turn boosts metabolism, helping you burn more calories—even when you’re chilling on the couch. Just don’t expect to look like a bodybuilder unless you’re also hitting the gym hard!

Other Effective Supplements for Weight Loss

1. Caffeine (In Moderation)

Yes, caffeine can be your friend—but only in moderation! It helps increase metabolism and can give you the energy boost you need for a killer workout. But beware, too much can leave you jittery or give you a serious case of the afternoon crash.

2. Apple Cider Vinegar

It might not taste the best (seriously, who drinks vinegar?), but apple cider vinegar can help reduce appetite and support digestion. Plus, it’s been shown to stabilize blood sugar levels, which is key to preventing those post-meal cravings.

3. Probiotics

Gut health is the secret weapon to weight loss that many people don’t talk about. A healthy gut helps your body digest food more efficiently, which can lead to better nutrient absorption and—surprise—weight loss!

How to Choose the Best Supplement for You

With so many options on the market, how do you pick the right one? Here’s a simple guide:

Consider your health goals: Do you want to curb your appetite, burn fat, or increase energy?

Look for natural ingredients: If you can’t pronounce it, maybe skip it.

Avoid harmful chemicals and stimulants: These are often the culprits behind unwanted side effects.

The Role of Diet and Exercise with Supplements

Let’s be real: supplements alone won’t get you to your dream body. They’re meant to supplement a healthy lifestyle, not replace it. Think of them as your sidekick, not the superhero. A balanced diet and regular exercise will do the heavy lifting, while supplements give you that extra push.

Best Supplements for Weight Loss for Females Without Side Effects

The Myth of "Quick Fixes"

If you’ve ever seen a supplement that promises to melt fat overnight, run the other way! Sustainable weight loss takes time, and there’s no magic pill that will instantly give you a six-pack. Sure, it might be tempting to believe in these “miracle” products, but lasting results come from consistency, not shortcuts.

Supplements to Avoid: The Red Flags

Not all supplements are created equal. If you see these ingredients, proceed with caution:

Ephedra: Known to cause heart problems.

Sibutramine: Banned in many countries due to its dangerous side effects.

DNP (2,4-Dinitrophenol): Can be lethal—definitely a no-go.

These ingredients are often found in extreme weight loss supplements, but trust me, the risk is not worth it.

Combining Supplements for Maximum Effect

Some supplements work even better when taken together. For example, pairing green tea extract with CLA can enhance fat burning, while protein supplements and glucomannan can help keep you full and energized throughout the day. The key is to find the right balance that works for your body and goals.

Listening to Your Body: When to Stop

Your body knows best, so listen to it! If you experience any unusual side effects like headaches, dizziness, or digestive issues, it’s time to stop and reevaluate. Always consult a healthcare provider before starting any new supplement regimen, especially if you have underlying health conditions.

Conclusion

Weight loss is a journey, and while supplements can help you reach your destination, they’re not a substitute for a healthy lifestyle. Stick to safe, natural supplements that align with your goals, and don’t forget that the best results come from pairing these with proper diet and exercise. Remember, it’s about progress, not perfection—so don’t be too hard on yourself. And hey, at least now you’ve got some extra tools in your toolkit!

Best Supplements for Weight Loss for Females Without Side Effects

[shruti-mehta-21]

What Makes Whey91 a Top Choice for Protein Supplementation?

In the world of fitness and nutrition, the right protein supplement can make a significant difference in achieving your health goals. With numerous options available, choosing the right one might seem overwhelming.

However, one product that stands out in the crowded market is Whey91. This protein supplement has been gaining recognition for its high-quality ingredients, effectiveness, and versatility, making it a top choice for anyone looking to boost their protein intake.

In this article, we'll explore what makes Whey91 so special and how it can be an integral part of your dietary routine.

1. The Superiority of Whey Protein

At the heart of Whey91 is its main ingredient: whey protein. Derived from milk during the cheese-making process, whey protein contains all nine essential amino acids, making it a complete protein.

Compared to other proteins, whey is renowned for its rapid absorption rate, which is crucial for muscle recovery and growth. The quality of whey in Whey91 ensures that you're getting a pure protein source that effectively supports your fitness goals.

2. Enhanced Immune Support

In addition to muscle building, one of the standout benefits of Whey91 is its ability to act as an immunity booster. The supplement is fortified with ingredients such as glutamine and immunoglobulins, which are known to support the immune system.

Regular intake can help enhance your body's natural defences, making it an excellent addition for those seeking to maintain their health and wellbeing, especially in demanding environments or during intense physical activity.

3. Convenient and Nutritious Options

Whey91 is not limited to just powder form; it extends its versatility into protein bars and energy bars. These bars offer a convenient way to consume protein on-the-go, without sacrificing the nutritional benefits. Each protein bar is designed to provide a balanced ratio of protein, carbohydrates, and fats, ensuring that you have the energy to power through your day. Furthermore, energy bars with Whey91 incorporate natural ingredients to keep you energized during workouts or busy schedules.

4. Ideal for All Lifestyles

One of the appealing factors of Whey91 is its adaptability to different lifestyles. Whether you're an athlete, a busy professional, or someone on a weight-loss journey, Whey91 can fit seamlessly into your diet plan. For athletes, the rapid absorption of whey protein aids in quick recovery post exercise.

Professionals can take advantage of the convenient protein bars and energy bars for a quick nutritional boost during hectic workdays, while those focusing on weight management can benefit from the satiating properties of protein to curb hunger.

5. Taste and Variety

The palatability of a supplement is crucial for long-term adherence. Whey91 doesn't compromise on taste. Available in a variety of flavours, it ensures that you can enjoy your protein supplement without any unpleasant aftertaste.

Whether you prefer vanilla, chocolate, or more exotic flavours, Whey91 has options to suit all taste preferences.

6. Quality and Purity

The makers of Whey91 understand the importance of quality and purity in protein supplements. That's why they adhere to stringent manufacturing processes, ensuring that each product is free from harmful additives, fillers, or artificial flavours.

The commitment to quality means that you can trust Whey91 to deliver clean protein that supports your health goals.

7. Scientific Backing

Whey91 is not just popular by word-of-mouth; it is supported by scientific research that underscores the benefits of whey protein. Studies have shown that whey protein can enhance muscle protein synthesis, support weight management, and even improve immune function.

This scientific backing gives consumers confidence in choosing Whey91 as a reliable source of protein supplementation.

8. Versatile Use

Beyond shakes and bars, Whey91 can be integrated into various recipes, enhancing the nutritional value of different meals. Many users incorporate it into smoothies, oatmeal, or baking to create protein-rich snacks. This versatility makes it easy to meet your daily protein intake in creative and enjoyable ways.

Whey91 distinguished itself as a premier choice for protein supplementation, catering to a diverse range of individuals seeking to enhance their health and wellness journeys. By combining high-quality ingredients with a commitment to taste and convenience, Whey91 offers a comprehensive solution for individuals striving to achieve their fitness goals, manage weight, or simply maintain overall well-being.

Whether you’re an athlete seeking optimal performance, a busy professional aiming for balanced nutrition, or an individual focused on weight management, Whey91’s versatility ensures it seamlessly integrates into various lifestyles.

Moreover, the product’s potential to bolster immunity adds an extra layer of value, making it a compelling choice for those prioritizing overall health. With a steadfast dedication to quality and customer satisfaction, Whey91 stands as a trusted companion on the path to a healthier you.