#I never say it enough but your style is so cozy and I love it no matter the subject

[i-really-like-phrogs]

I heard you're not feeling the best, I hope you feel better soon! ❤️❤️❤️

Bj went out frog catching so you have a buddy while you recover

I do not draw frogs often 😅

Has someone told you how incredibly awesome you are today? Well let me jump in and add to it— Thank you so much for your beautiful heart and incredible doodles! This absolutely made me feel so much better already, thank you so much! (I’d give you, BJ, and this little guy all three the BIGGEST of hugs, but I don’t want you catching it.) Don’t worry, I’m making sure this little guy has a mask to keep him healthy, and we are ribbiting together about how wonderful you are!

Thank you so much for this random act of kindness, I cannot tell you what it means. You’ve made my world a little brighter today. :)💕❤️

[tojicide]

⠀ REMIND ME! ☆ SYLUS.

summary. six months after your breakup with sylus, news broke of you moving on, which is something he simply cannot allow—not if he can help it.

warnings. fem!reader, infidelity, pet names, established history, hair pulling, face sitting, oral ( fem. receiving ), doggy style, missionary, creampie, aftercare. wc. 6.1k.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Once news broke the N109 Zone of a prospering romance in his district, Sylus couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn. It was when he heard whispers of your name adjacent to another man’s that he began to listen.

He was out the front door of his home within a second, his leg swinging over his bike before Luke and Kieran could have a say in the matter.

The two men stood side by side, shouting a frantic ‘it’s normal to move on, man!’ and a ‘it’s been six months!’ from the doorstep as they watched their white haired boss speed away.

Sylus was sure that if he gripped the handlebars of his motorcycle any tighter, they’d certainly break off.

If he was willing to harm his most prized possession over the pure frustration you’ve stirred within him, you should consider yourself the most lucky yet damned woman alive.

He liked to think he was headstrong, but when it came to you, he lost all of his sense. All rationale was long forgotten. You consumed him and he gladly let you, because all in all, it truly was a blessing and a curse.

For how much he loved to put the pedal to the metal, he’s never once arrived at your apartment as fast as he has just now. He didn’t even bother to properly leave his bike in between the lines of a parking spot before he was practically flying towards your front door, knocking rapidly until you answered.

Surprise is etched into your facial features as you crack the door open just enough to see who your uninvited guest was, but a strong hand pushed it open until it was agape. “What the fu—”

“Where is he?” he cuts you off with a question, his red eyes scanning your cozy living room like a predator on the prowl.

“Excuse you, I— what? Where is who?” Your questions stammer out as your brain tries to catch up to the scene in front of you.

Sylus forces himself to turn around and face you, realizing that his erratic behavior was likely confusing you. As expressed, his common sense was truly slipping from him. God, he’s missed you, and he absolutely hates the look you’re giving him. It was one that made him feel like a pure inconvenience to you (even though he certainly was behaving like it).

“Your… boyfriend,” he clarifies, almost choking on the word. The fact that the title was no longer his was already a problem in and of itself, but losing it to another man was something he simply could not allow. “Where is he?”

“Oh, I see,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him as you give him a once over. “You think that you’re going to barge into my apartment and pummel the ever living shit out of my boyfriend?”

“More or less,” he answers, his long strides continuing a bit further down your hallway. “Preferably more.”

You scoff, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you watch your ex–boyfriend scope out your apartment that he’s all too familiar with.

“He isn’t here.”

“So I’ve gathered,” he replies, his head poking into your bedroom.

Sylus did his best to sound nonchalant, as aloof as can be, though his heart rate was through the roof. He saw no signs of any male presence—no messily discarded clothes, no misplaced shoes, no second toothbrush in the bathroom—which meant that your relationship wasn’t as serious as he’d imagined.

And boy, was he relieved to figure that much out.

You straighten off the wall as he enters your bedroom, hurriedly walking behind him as you speak, “Y’know, since your objective for coming here can’t be achieved, you are more than welcome to leave.”

“Did I say that was my only objective?” he simply asks, eyes scanning your bedroom.

A bit had changed since he’d last been in here. You changed your comforter to a floral pattern, and you even matched the drapes to the shade of your bedding. Your attention to detail was something he admired about you, and his attention to detail was something you used to love, though as his eyes fell to your open underwear drawer—you’re growing to hate it. A lot.

“Get out of there!” you exclaim, rushing to shove it closed, only to catch his slender finger in the crossfire.

He winces slightly, lifting his already bruising finger to your line of vision. “You’ve wounded me, sweetie. Kiss it better?”

You scoff, slightly pushing his hand away from your face. In any other context, you would have apologized, but given the fact that Sylus had entered your apartment without invitation and threatened to harm your boyfriend within five minutes of his arrival was enough to make you think that this made the two of you almost even.

A small smirk tugs at Sylus’s lips as he presses his finger to his tongue, soothing the stinging that you caused. Your eyes linger on his mouth for a bit longer than they should, and if he noticed (which he certainly did), he didn’t say anything.

“I see you went shopping,” he mumbles, his eyes falling to your now closed underwear drawer. “That’s a shame, baby. A damn shame.”

You can’t help the scoff that leaves your mouth. “Why’s that?”

“I hate the idea of another man seeing what’s mine,” Sylus answers, tilting his head to the side as he gives your body an agonizingly slow once over, “in such pretty fabric, at that.”

Heat rushes to your face at his implication, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re uncomfortable or if you’re flustered by his forwardness. You figure it’s a mixture of both, but you mask it with an annoyed huff.

“I can do what I want,” you refute, crossing your arms over your chest. “And if what I want is to buy panties that you’ll never have the privilege of seeing me wear, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Sylus clicks his tongue, shaking his head with the slightest smirk curving upwards on his lips. He finds your attitude to be just as adorable as it is frustrating. With the way you look, arms tightly crossed over your chest with the tiniest wrinkle in between your eyebrows, he’d liken you to an angry kitten.

“If you’re trying to rile me up, you’re succeeding,” he states, drumming his fingers on your dresser.

Your eyes flit away. “I’m not trying to do anything. In fact, I want nothing to do with you.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms over his broad chest. It’s the first time he’s looked remotely upset with you from the moment he arrived. “Your boyfriend may fall for this little act of yours, but I won’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sylus straightens up, his tall frame towering over you. You almost feel antsy under his gaze, but you do your best to hide it.

“I am what your heart truly desires,” he quietly murmurs, his finger tracing from the middle of your collarbones to the valley of your breasts. “And you can lie to him, you can even lie to yourself—but you cannot lie to me. I can see your deepest desires, remember?”

Betrayal is your body’s first instinct. Your breath hitches in your throat the moment the pad of his index finger runs across your skin, and you physically have to fight off a whine from escaping your lips.

In an attempt to salvage the situation, you straighten up, glancing towards your bedroom door. “That’s… bullshit, Sylus. Get out of my head.”

“It’s nothing of the sort,” he replies with a much gentler tone than the one he possessed prior. “And I’ll do no such thing. Your mind is my favorite place to be.”

He studies his reddened finger for a moment, silently deciding to steer the conversation from its more serious direction. “It still won’t feel better until it gets a kiss from its favorite girl, you know.”

Against your better judgment, your eyes betray you by studying the reddened pad of his finger. It shouldn’t be as enticing of a view as it is. You find it to be almost criminal.

“You can lose that finger for all I care,” you scoff, trying not to remember how good it used to feel inside of you.

“So brash.” Sylus forces a pout on his lips, though it doesn’t last long. He presses a kiss to his own finger before he extends his arm to rest on the edge of your dresser, keeping you caged against your drawers.

“You’re awfully lucky that I’m a forgiving man,” he murmurs, his red eyes trained to yours. “You can do almost anything to me and I’d allow it.”

Judging by the way your expression lights up, that seems to give you an idea.

“Really?” you inquire, narrowing your eyes. “Say, if I punched you square in your face, would you allow it?”

“I’m not opposed to finding out,” he answers, his eyelids fluttering as he continues to drink in your beauty. “You know I love it when you’re rough with me.”

That comment forces a flush to your face, and you almost have to pinch yourself to keep your mind from bringing forward all of the memories that proved just how true that statement was.

It infuriates you how easily he could get a reaction out of you, no less than six months after you broke up with him. Perhaps that was why, in a split second decision (one that you’re hardly aware you’re making), your fist goes flying towards his face.

Sylus firmly stops your wielding hand before it can make contact with his cheek. His fingers unwind your fist and bring your hand close, allowing him to press a few chaste kisses to your knuckles.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” he asks, his voice slightly muffled by the kisses he’s peppering along your palm and wrist. “So, so beautiful.”

Only he would say such a thing after you attempted to inflict bodily harm upon him. You wish you could rationalize his behavior, but you can’t—that’s just Sylus.

Your body betrays you in every way, shape, and form. Your face is flushed, your eyes are half lidded, and the mere contact of his lips on your knuckles is enough for butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

Grasping onto the last bit of common sense you have, you pull your hand from his grasp.

“It’s time for you to go,” you insist, beginning to slide against the dresser to escape his gaze.

Sylus allows you to create a bit of distance between the two of you, lifting his arm up from your dresser to let you walk away. The last thing he wants is to make you feel suffocated—the very reason you broke up with him in the first place.

He tried to do better, but when it came to you, he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t an animal, though. He loved you more than words could ever describe, and he’d allow you anything you wanted. And if physical space was what you wanted, he’d grant it to you.

“You know I’d do anything for you,” he quietly says, his voice carrying an unforeseen vulnerability to it, “but I can’t do what you’re asking of me. I can’t let you give yourself to a man who doesn’t deserve you.”

Your eyebrows raise. “How can you be so sure he doesn’t deserve me?”

“I know you, baby. That’s how.”

A beat of silence passes, and he conjures up the courage to continue. “And I’m positive there isn’t a single soul who could possibly deserve your favor,” Sylus reasons, loosely crossing his arms, his toned biceps showing through the sleeves of his black button–up shirt. “Not even myself. I’m man enough to recognize that.”

His answer catches you off guard, but you do your best to maintain your front. You don’t want him to see how his words seem to squeeze at your heart.

“Then why are you here?” you genuinely ask.

Sylus knows he’s backed himself into a corner, and contrary to what you might think, he’d intended to do just that. He wants you to give him the green light to speak every word that he’s longed to say to you from the moment he’d seen you last, and now that you have, the floodgates are open.

“I’m selfish,” he admits, taking a tentative step towards you. “I’m drunk on you, and I can’t bear the thought of sobering up, even after all this time. It’s unfair, it’s horrible, it’s cruel—I know this, sweetie. But… I find my serenity in your eyes, and with you gone, my life is purgatory. The confines of hell must be more pleasant than what it is that I feel when I’m without you.”

Internally, you’re floored. Gobsmacked, even. Externally, you’re looking at him with the same soft expression you’ve worn this entire time.

Met with your silence, Sylus begins to internally panic. He slowly takes a few steps towards you, and when you don’t attempt to maintain the distance between you, his hands move to cup your face.

“Rid me of this life,” he whispers, his mouth so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips. “I cannot go on, not without you beside me.”

You truly hate how easy it is for him to reduce you to nothing but putty. You have a new boyfriend, you’ve moved on, you’ve allowed the love that you and Sylus shared to be nothing more than history.

You wanted to believe that moving forward was the best thing you could do, but if that was true, why is it that your heart hadn’t felt full until you laid eyes on Sylus? It seems to beat differently, like it’s finally come back to life in his presence.

Noticing the softening of your eyes, Sylus can’t help himself. He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, holding both of you there for a few seconds. The sheer tenderness of his action was enough to make you melt, and you were sure you would’ve if his hands on your face weren’t grounding you.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he admits, tilting your head up so that he can look into your eyes.

Sylus was never one for verbal affection (or being desperate for a woman’s favor) prior to you, but he’d make this exception a million times over if it meant he could have you however you’d let him.

You’ve nearly forgotten all of your allegiances, and you can’t even blame yourself for it. You know that indulging in him is like eating a forbidden fruit, and even then, you can’t forbid yourself from its taste—not when you know how sweet it is. What you feel goes beyond want; it’s pure, unadulterated need.

“No response for me?” he asks.

You shake your head, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. You carefully slide out of his grasp and sit on the edge of your bed, his eyes trailing you as you do so.

You’re a firm believer that nothing is real until you’ve said it out loud, Sylus is more than aware of that. He doesn’t want to push you too hard, too fast, too much, but he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

As you sit, your thighs naturally part and your skirt rides up just a bit, enough for the pink fabric clothing your pussy to be shown. That sight alone was able to elicit behavior that you’ve never once seen from Sylus.

“God, you are a privilege,” he murmurs, taking a few steps towards you. Without hesitation, he slowly descends to his knees before you, his hands trailing up your thighs. “Such a sight,” he adds his eyes flitting to the dampening fabric of your underwear, “such a beautiful sight.”

If his words weren’t enough, the sight of him kneeling in front of you was enough to make you faint. (Or scream. Or cum. Maybe all three at the same time, you’re not sure.)

“Allow me the night,” Sylus pleads, his desperate red eyes finally locking onto yours. His hand moves to brush your hair from your face, tucking it loosely behind your ear. “Just the night. One night to indulge you.”

Lying would be no use, all things considered. He’d already shamelessly eyed the needy area between your thighs, knowing that the arousal collecting there is for him. Your stomach swirls with a mixture of guilt and need, and you honestly feel like you’re in an impossible position.

“Sylus,” you breathe, your heartbeat thumping so hard that you’re surprised your chest hasn’t burst. “This is so wrong.”

He shakes his head as his large, gentle hands move to rest on your knees. “Your pleasure means more to me than a simple case of right and wrong.”

“I wish it was as simple as you make it seem,” you say, a long sigh leaving you.

“Can’t it be?” Sylus questions, his thumbs idly stroking your knees. “Allow me this one night to remind you of how I feel about you, how you feel about me. If you want me to leave you alone by the time morning comes, I will accept that with a smile.”

You’d like to imagine that you’re stronger than this, that the idea of a final night of lovemaking with your ex-boyfriend to get him out of your head for good isn’t appealing—but it is.

It’s something you’ve thought about before (in the dead of night with your hand stuffed down your shorts), but never did you think it could become a reality.

Only now, with him kneeling in front of you, it was.

“Okay,” you sheepishly murmur. “Remind me.”

You know this is absolutely horrible of you to do, but you can’t find the will to deny yourself this. As much as you tried to get Sylus out of your head, you never could. Not long enough for it to make a difference, anyway.

(Perhaps this, a final intimate night between the two of you, will be just what you need to move on for good.)

Sylus knows that his time with you is limited, but he plans to make it the best night of your existence.

(Perhaps if he can remind you of how much he’s willing to give, how much he loves you, how much he’s missed you—you’ll change your mind.)

His large, strong hands trail up as he drapes your legs over his shoulders, pressing a few kisses to your calves and inner thighs. He presses a kiss to the fabric of your underwear, his tongue drawing out to taste the wet spot.

Sylus isn’t sure what’s come over him, but he honestly feels like he’ll either implode or cry at the sight of you right now. To have you again is something he’s dreamt about more than he’d like to admit, and he plans to show you just how much your absence has affected him as his fingers slide beneath your skirt to hook under the thin fabric of your underwear.

“Thank you,” he mutters against your skin, tugging the clothing piece down your legs. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters aloud the moment his eyes land on your heat.

He could seriously cum in his pants right now, and if he’s not careful, he will. His hands lock onto your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed to give him better access to your glistening cunt.

“Pussy’s all mine,” he breathes, licking a long stripe up your slit.

You would have replied if he hadn’t buried his face in between your thighs. His tongue laps at your wetness before he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly at it with hollowed cheeks.

A cry leaves your lips at the sensation, your hand gripping onto his white hair as you revel in the feeling his tongue is giving you.

He’s eating you out like a man starved, his own moans rumbling into your cunt, his cock straining against the confines of his pants. Sylus could do this for days if you let him, but after not having you like this for so long, he can’t help himself from needing more.

Within moments, he’s slowly pushing you higher on your bed, still licking at your pussy until he’s physically unable to. He looks up at you with crazed eyes, licking his spit-slick lips as he kicks his shoes off.

“Sit on my face,” he murmurs, moving to lay on your bed. When he’s met with your hesitance, he’s grasping onto your arm to carefully pull you towards him. “I might die without it.”

You’ve never once seen a man so pussy drunk in your entire life, but you’re in absolutely no position to deny him. So, you move to hover above him, your hands resting on your headboard. You hear a satisfied moan beneath you, and he’s soon hooking his arms around your thighs.

“You won’t die without it,” you grumble. “In fact, you might die because of it. Suffocation—”

“Suffocation of this kind might be the best way to go,” he cuts you off, licking a faint swipe against your folds. “In fact, when we’re old and withered, it might be my last ask of you.”

Your face flushes, and you can feel heat rushing to both your cunt and your cheeks. Noticing the coy face you’re making, Sylus can’t help himself from laying a faint smack on your ass, squeezing its plushness as he stares up at you.

“For now, though,” he purrs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I want you to let go for me. Can’t have you dangling this pretty cunt in my face without letting me taste it.”

As you hesitantly begin to relax your thighs and lower on top of him, he lifts his head up to meet you halfway and gather your slick on his tongue.

“Very good, baby,” Sylus purrs, dropping his head back onto your sheets as he pulls your hips down the rest of the way, “now sit.”

When all of your weight crashes down on him, a soft gasp leaves your lips at the sheer passion behind the movements of his tongue. He almost seems to be more incentivized. His eyes flutter shut as he mouths at your pussy, the moans leaving his mouth in combination with the absolute filthy sounds of his tongue are enough to drive you insane.

Sylus feels like he’s finally left purgatory and has transcended into heaven. With his pretty girl on his face, taking her on his tongue, making the most beautiful little noises—he’s honestly never felt better.

(Well, there is that whole new boyfriend thing looming in the back of his mind, but he’s sure that you’ll take care of that once he’s done taking care of you.)

One of your hands leaves the headboard to grasp onto his hair, your eyes screwing shut as you rock your hips over his tongue. “Sylus,” you breathe out through a moan. “I’m— oh, shit—”

Sylus’s cock twitches as you moan his name, his eyes fluttering shut as one of his hands help to guide the rocking of your hips. With his other, he palms himself through his trousers, his mouth working tirelessly to make you feel good.

Even as self-admittedly selfish as he is, he can’t bear the idea of putting his pleasure above your own—even if the ache is physically eating away at him. With you writhing above him, the sounds you’re making, the look on your face, it’s all too much—even for him.

Your mouth lulls open as you let out the most beautiful whine he’s ever heard, and his tongue slows down, working you through your first orgasm of the night. He eagerly collects your juices with his tongue, his eyes rolling back as he finally presses a final kiss to your swollen clit.

“I can stay this way forever,” he says against your inner thigh, placing a kiss to your warm skin, “you and me,” he places another kiss, “together.”

You shift to lay beside him, out of breath and looking beautifully disheveled. Sylus licks his lips and lies starry–eyed beside you. Soon enough, a huff of laughter escaped his throat, realizing he might’ve said too much there.

Sylus turns his head to look at you. “Was that enough to get an ‘I miss you too’ out of that mouth of yours?”

You let out a breathless laugh, your hand running over your face. “No,” you lie.

That was the best orgasm you’ve had since your breakup, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“You’ve developed quite the attitude,” he muses, rolling on top of you. He slots his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. “That boyfriend of yours must not fuck it out of you like he should,” he adds, the low volume of his voice rumbling against your skin as he kisses along your jaw, “like I can.”

Before you can think twice, you’re lifting your hips against the bulge in his pants, a soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the very prominent shape of his hardened cock. With a grunt, Sylus pushes your hips down, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs.

“Such a needy little thing,” he chastises, his hand moving to cup your mound. “First you’re insisting I leave, and now you’re hoping I’ll give you my cock. You’re sending me mixed signals here, sweetie.”

You’re seeing stars, and your hand grasps onto his wrist, feeling the way his muscles tense as he begins to toy with your clit.

“I want it,” you whine, your toes curling as the pad of his middle finger circles your entrance, “you’re… you’re being a tease.”

“That’s right,” he whispers, licking a long stripe up your neck. “If you want it bad enough, you’re going to have to prove it, baby.”

Your head tilts to the side as Sylus pulls away from your neck to look down at you. His fingers move to work at the button of your skirt, tugging it down your legs and tossing it onto the floor of your room.

“How?” you ask.

He presses his lips to yours as his hands tug up your shirt, breaking the kiss to carefully pull it over your head. His large hands palm at your breasts, bringing your perked nipples in between his fingers.

“Pick up the phone,” Sylus answers, releasing your breasts to sit up in front of you, his hands moving to undo his belt.

Your curiosity soon turns into something much more lustful as he pulls his trousers and boxers down his thighs. His shirt goes next, the articles of clothing decorating your floor. His cock looks even better than you remember, but he snaps his fingers in front of your face to gather your attention.

“Sorry, what?” you ask, shaking your head to snap yourself out of your trance.

“Pick up the phone,” he repeats, reaching to your bedside table to hand you your cell.

You take the device from him, looking at it with confusion. You were embarrassed that you hadn’t even noticed it ringing, far too distracted by the sight of him stroking his hand along his length, but your embarrassment soon turns into dread as you read the caller ID.

It is, of course, none other than your boyfriend.

“Sylus, that’s— that’s crazy,” you stammer out, looking between his eyes, his dick, and your phone.

He snickers, flipping you onto your stomach. His hands grasp onto the plush of your hips to pull your ass up. “What’s crazy is the fact that you expect me to fuck you without your boyfriend’s knowledge.”

“You’re above adultery?” you gasp out.

Sylus shakes his head, his hand moving to prod your entrance with the tip of his cock, his other hand grasping onto your hair to pull you back against his chest.

“Obviously not,” he replies, licking along the shell of your ear. “Just want to show him how beneath it you are.”

Your heart slams against your chest as he takes the device from you and answers the call, holding the phone to your ear.

“Let him hear,” he purrs, slowly pushing his cock inside of you. “The noises you make with my cock buried inside you are such a prize. It’d be a disservice to not share.”

A sharp whine leaves your lips as he tugs on your hair, tilting your head to give himself better access to your neck as he bottoms out inside of you. “Tell him what you’re up to, sweetie,” he simply says, sucking a faint mark onto your neck.

On the other end of the line, your partner begins to blab on about his day, though you’re hardly able to listen, not when Sylus is pushing his cock inside of you like a madman. Your body tenses as he stretches you out, the sensation forcing a moan out of your mouth, though the man on the other end of the line didn’t seem to notice.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, resting his chin on the crook of your shoulder to press an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, “taking my cock so nicely. Missed this pussy so much.”

“—so then, I told him… wait. Are you with someone?”

Your heart rate skyrockets as Sylus draws his hips back only to pound the length of his cock inside of you. “Oh, fuck… y-yes,” you choke into the phone, almost breathless.

“Thank you for your confession, my dear,” Sylus teasingly remarks, knowing that your response was a reaction to how good he feels inside of you rather than an answer to your boyfriend’s question.

He presses a faint kiss to your shoulder as he thrusts into you again, using his grip on your hair to push you back onto your stomach. A hand smoothes over the curve of your back, his long fingers hooking around the plush of your hip to remind you that he’s still present despite the situation. He then brings the phone to his own ear, watching with a wide grin as you arch your back to take as much of his cock as you can.

“Our friend can’t talk right now,” he says into the receiver, grunting as your walls clench around him. “She’s gotten lost and found herself on my cock, which is such a positive turn of events, let me tell you,” the pace of his hips thrusting into you only seems to get more intense with each word he says, “considering it’s right where she belongs.”

“W-what? Who the fuck are you? I—”

“I can’t stay on the line to talk much either,” Sylus continues, his free hand grasping a bit tighter onto your hair as he tugs on it to fuck deeper and harder inside of you, his skin slapping against yours with each heavy thrust. “Have to make her cum for all the times you couldn’t.”

You’re lost in a whirlwind of sensations, your mouth gaped open as you moan out with each thrust he makes, your back arched as much as you could make it. You can feel a pool of warmth building inside of your lower stomach, and you let out a cry of pleasure.

You haven’t been fucked this good in, well… six months. That much is obvious to the both of you, given the way you’ve been losing your mind with each forceful push of his hips. He knows your body in ways you’ll never understand, and luckily for you, you don’t need to understand in order to receive the pleasure that he’s desperately trying to give you.

“Sylus!” you gasp out, serving as a warning for how close you already are.

“Mm, I have to go, duty calls,” Sylus says into the phone, releasing his grip on your hair to move his hand between your legs, two of his fingers circling your clit. “Call my woman again and I’ll kill you.”

Tapping the screen to end the call, he tosses your phone mindlessly, and it’s only when you hear it drop against the floor do you turn around to look at him.

“Sylus!” you scold.

He gives you a wry smile as he slowly pulls out of you, rolling you onto your back. “I’ll buy you a new one, pretty. Don’t worry.”

You open your mouth to protest, but when he slowly pushes his cock inside of you again, you’re hardly in the protesting mood at all.

Sylus towers over you, his forearm propping him up as he slowly fucks into you, his red eyes trained to yours. “God, baby, I’ve missed you.”

Almost instinctively, your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. There was a hidden intimacy of this position that you’ve always loved. He obliges to your request, resting his forehead on yours as he thrusts harder inside of you.

“You take me so well,” he whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “So, so beautifully.”

You mewl at the softness of his praise, your eyes glossing over as he continues to fuck you into oblivion, your walls tensing around him. He hisses at the feeling, dipping his head to press a kiss on your cheek.

He can tell that you’re close, and he knows just what you need. He won’t give it to you so easily, though.

“Sweetie?” he breathes out.

You nod your head before breathlessly replying, “yeah?”

Sylus gives you a smirk as he raises his bruised finger to your lips. “Kiss it better. Let me use it on you.”

Protest is not on your agenda anymore, not by a long shot. You kiss the pad of his finger without hesitation, and you proceed to capture it with your mouth, your tongue soothing the bruising.

He smiles at the sight, a groan leaving his lips as he continues to thrust his cock inside of you. “So pretty, baby. God, you’re beautiful.”

Sylus retracts his finger from your mouth to bring it to your clit, his spit-slick finger rubbing it in beautiful, moan-earning circles. He watches as your eyes almost immediately haze over at the stimulation.

He lowers his head to suck on your nipple, his free hand palming at your other breast as means of stimulating you in any way he can. After a moment, he latches onto your other breast, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak.

“God, ah— Sylus!” you moan, your hands wrapping around his neck.

He nips at your breast before he pulls away, a guttural moan leaving his mouth as he feels you clench around his cock. “Going to come for me again, beautiful?”

You nod your head, rising up from the pillow to press a kiss on his lips, and his large hand moves to cup the back of your head as he kisses you through your orgasm. His fingers gently thread through your hair, giving you the best of both worlds.

“Cream my cock, baby. It’s all yours, always will be,” he mutters against your lips, his thrusts growing slower as he twitches inside of you.

Sylus breaks the kiss to look down at you, a heavy pant leaving him. “Where do you want me?” he breathlessly asks.

As if that were a question you ever responded differently to, he still needed to ask, even though you answered just the same. “In… in me.”

He nods his head as he thrusts inside of you a few more times, pressing an open-mouthed kiss on your cheek as he bottoms out inside of you, stuffing you full of his thick, white cum.

A moment passes in which the two of you simply pant breathlessly to each other, your sweaty foreheads pressed together. It was a beautiful scene by all measures.

“I missed you too,” you finally pant out, a smile breaking your lips. “I missed you a lot.”

He chuckles breathlessly at that. “I missed you even more, sweetie.”

Sylus presses a soft kiss on your cheek before he slowly pulls out of you, traveling slowly to your bathroom before returning with a damp towel. He settles in front of you again, using the warm towel to gently clean up the mess he’s made of you between your legs.

You stare at him with the most lovestruck eyes he’s ever seen, and it only makes him smile. “You tired, baby?” he lowly asks.

Nodding your head, you extend your arms to him, and he pulls you in without question. He lies down on his back, holding you against his chest. His large hand runs over your back while the other one tugs your blankets over the both of you, giving you a bit of warmth.

Not that he needed anything more than your presence. He feels like he’s on cloud nine, holding the woman that he loves, running his fingers over her hair just as he used to.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your ear, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head. It’s almost concerning how much he loves you, but he can’t help it.

“I love you,” you lazily return the sentiment.

As you cuddle into his chest, you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t shown up today, if he’d left you alone, if he let you move on.

You know it’s crazy to think about.

After all, it’s Sylus. Your Sylus. He’s the only person you’ve ever needed, and now that he’s reminded you of that, you won’t forget it.

note. thank you for reading! please interact if you enjoyed!! <3 i don’t even know what the hell this is—we have possessive, dominant, and soft sylus in one go. but hey, it works for me, so i hope it works for you. pls pls pls give me ideas to write more for this sexy man—i never get tired of him!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

[goldsainz]

# HARRY STYLES — A COZY BIRTHDAY !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ you decide to organise a cozy affair in italy for harry’s birthday.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ harry and reader are married.

003. NOTE !

✯ the last fic i wrote for him was 13/02/2023 which is crazyyyy! time flies by so so fast. this is short but i hope you guys like it (idk if i’ll write more for harry, but for now, have this) 🫶

word count : 579

The Italian countryside lay quiet beneath a pale winter sky, the crisp February air nipping at your skin as you stood by the kitchen window, watching the rolling hills dusted with frost. A fire crackled in the grand stone fireplace, filling the villa with its golden warmth, and the scent of fresh espresso mingled with cinnamon from the pastries you’d just set on the table.

Today was Harry’s 31st birthday.

You wanted the day to feel cozy, intimate—the kind of warmth that had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with love.

A sleepy shuffle of bare feet across the wooden floors made you smile before a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist.

“G’mornin’, love,” Harry murmured, his voice thick with sleep as he nuzzled into your neck. He was warm against you, fresh from the blankets, his curls still messy from sleep.

You turned in his arms, smiling up at him. “Happy birthday, my love.”

His dimples appeared instantly, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Mmm, best birthday already.”

You rolled your eyes. “You say that every year.”

“Cause it’s always true,” he murmured before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, his hands sliding down your back. You melted into him, savoring the quiet of the morning.

A gust of wind rattled the windows, making Harry shiver slightly despite the warmth of the villa. He pouted at you. “S’cold, babe.”

You giggled. “That’s why I made coffee.”

He let you go long enough to wrap himself in the thick knit cardigan draped over a chair, one of your favourites on him. Then he followed you to the breakfast table, where a steaming mug of espresso and a plate of warm pastries waited.

“You cooked?” he teased, eyes twinkling.

You gave him a playful nudge. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

He hummed as he took a bite of the cinnamon roll. “Marry me.”

You laughed. “We’re already married.”

“Marry me again, then.”

The silver band on your finger caught the flickering firelight as you reached for his hand. “I’d marry you a hundred times over.”

His gaze softened, and he squeezed your fingers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The day passed in cozy bliss. You stayed wrapped in blankets on the couch, sipping hot cocoa while watching old movies. At one point, Harry pulled you onto his lap, burying his face in your sweater and mumbling something about how he was never moving from this spot.

But when evening fell, you led him outside. The stone terrace had been transformed—fairy lights twinkled under the pergola, and a small fire pit crackled beside a table set for two. The winter air was sharp, but the warmth of the fire and the thick blankets draped over the chairs made it feel just right.

Harry let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “You really are incredible.”

You grinned. “I know,”

Dinner was filled with laughter, his hand never straying far from yours. When the night deepened, you found yourselves curled up on the outdoor sofa, wrapped in the same oversized blanket.

Harry pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “Best birthday ever.”

“Told you I’d spoil you.” You smiled against his chest. 

He tilted your chin up, eyes flickering with something warm and golden. “You always do.”

And as the winter wind whispered through the trees, you knew that no matter the season, no matter the years that passed, every birthday would be yours to share—forever.

[thegreatgatslin]

THREE'S A CROWD! (bllk x reader threesomes, 18+)

ღ SYNOPSIS: why choose between them when you can just have them both? ღ STARRING: nagireo and ryusae x reader (separate) ღ CONTENT WARNINGS: threesomes (duh), heinous smut, p in v sex, p in a sex, double penetration, fingering, oral sex (f/m receiving), face sitting, overstim, no protection, best friends nagireo, boyfriends ryusae

ღ SEISHIRO NAGI AND REO MIKAGE: WE'LL MAKE YOU SAY YOU NEED US

somehow, what was supposed to be a cozy night in watching rom-coms has turned into a full-on makeout session with your two best friends. and with the way reo’s large hands are ghosting over the bare skin of your waist, and how seishiro’s deft tongue is exploring your mouth with a surprising fervor - 

you think it might turn into more than that very, very soon.

“fuckkkkk,” reo groans, kissing up the side of your neck, and you let out a pathetic whine as you feel his hard-on poking your lower back.

“you feel too good, jewel.” you feel a tugging at the waistband of your sleep shorts, and look down to see sei’s beautiful grey eyes, wide and full of want, and nod breathlessly, they’re off in seconds, and so are your lacy black panties.

and even as you feel two cold, long fingers poke at your sopping wet entrance, you feel hands pulling your thick sweater up - you’re not wearing anything underneath - exposing your bare breasts to the cool air of reo’s living room.

soon, you’re letting out the most wanton moans you’ve ever heard - seishiro is thumbing at your swollen clit as his thick digits piston in and out of your cunt, and reo toys with your sensitive nipples, kneading the soft flesh of your chest.

“i want you to sit on my face, angel,” sei rasps, and you oblige, positioning yourself over his waiting mouth. by now reo’s pulled sei out of his grey sweats, revealing all eight delicious inches of him that you immediately wrap your hands around, stroking slowly.

you look up at reo, who’s unbuckling his belt, and soon his cock is standing straight and proud before your eyes, reddened tip leaking with pre. he cups your cheek, eyes murky with desire. 

“won’t you help me out too, angel?” and you moan at his taste when he pushes his throbbing tip past your parted lips and tangles his fingers into your hair.

you cum from seishiro’s expert ministrations - what, twice? three times? you can’t seem to remember. and reo, feeling a little left out, has his turn with you later on, as sei sits to the side, fisting his cock lazily.

suffice it to say, the three of you did not watch that movie.

ღ SAE ITOSHI AND RYUSEI SHIDOU: GO WILD, I LOVE IT WHEN YOU'RE ROUGH

having both ryusei shidou and sae itoshi as your boyfriends is interesting at times, because they’re different in every single way. personality, playing style, love language. and that extends to the way they fuck you. 

though sex with them is always exciting and really good, you notice a recurring pattern in how they handle you:

they start off slow, they escalate much too quickly, and they end with a bang.

sae always has the first taste of you unless he’s feeling generous, in which case ryu will dive in between your legs eagerly and eat you out until your legs are shaking and you’re crying both their names out. sae is much more methodical; his tongue will circle your clit while he fingers you at an agonisingly slow pace, sucking your slick from his own fingers from time to time. (he never forgets to give ryu a taste, too.)

and while one of them is doing that, it’s inevitable that you’ll be taking care of the other. your mouth, your hands, your tits - any part of your body they can use to get themselves off, they’ll use. sae particularly enjoys watching you choke and sputter helplessly on his length, while ryu likes when you jerk him off with one hand as you brace yourself on his thick thigh with the other - especially if you’ve just had your nails done.

then comes the “main event” (though you could say the whole thing is eventful enough). sae is unashamedly an ass guy, especially when it comes to your ass, so that’s what he takes. ryusei is happy to have your plush cunt squeezing around him, and they fuck you roughly in tandem, uncaring of your overstimulation. 

they make out heatedly as you’re sandwiched between them, and somehow or other, they make sure you all cum at the same time. oh well - that’s what you get for dating both a horny demon and a perceptive genius at once.

a/n: *gulps* part two? yes, part two.

© thegreatgatslin || ✦ M.LIST ✦

[beloveds-embrace]

I just recently got into CoD and learning all the story’s and characters, and I absolutely love your Roomemate 141 Series!

I can’t help but think of the holiday season with them, decorating with the boys (John is always happy to help, and doesn’t mind if you tell him to adjust a garland or a wreath a million times, just as long as your happy in the end, he thinks anyway you decorate makes their home look great) or going out shopping (Kyle definitely seems the type to jump at the offer to accompany you, keeping an eye out at all the things you pick up and put down to add to his shopping list to gift to you) or (-if you celebrate Christmas,) going to pick out a tree with the boys?

Johnny is trying to convince you to get the biggest fullest tree after all you should have the absolute best for the holidays…and don’t forget when your decorating it, everyone helps even if you just buy some cheap ornaments for this year because the boys don’t have any particular special ornaments (You picked out a special ornament for each of the boys to give them on Christmas…so it won’t be cheap ornaments on the tree for long…) AND when it’s time to put the Star or Angel or whatever tree topper on the tree, Simon is all the happier to be the one to lift you up to the top so you can put the finishing touch on the tree.

(And don’t think about one of the boys putting up a mistletoe in the hallway that you always walk through so now all of them are trying to get caught underneath it with you… 👀)

Waitt omg this so cute 😭 holiday decorationing means the decor tyrant that you are is fully out and thriving but in all honesty, John doesn’t mind. He loves the boys but Kyle is the one one of them with any sense of home styling but they just never have enough time to shop. But here you are, excited to decorate the space even more than you’ve already done and who is John to even think about saying no? … even if he’s sure the fairy lights are centered, love.

Said fairy lights that you got while shopping with Kyle, who leaves your side for a while and when he returns, he’s brought all your favorite candles and snacks that have run out. Also he 100% has access to your amazon or whatever wishlist so he knows what to get you for Christmas, and still would’ve known what to get even without that wishlist because he’s always so focused on you, your likes and dislikes and what catches your eyes.

Also yes johnny absolutely does try to get the biggest tree 😭 you have to remind him that you live in an apartment and if he really wants that tree then you’d need to take a wall and maybe a good chunk of the ceiling out 💀 he still does manage to convince you to buy a relatively big tree, and rewards you with making his mom’s secret hot chocolate recipe that will have you all cozy and cuddly against his side on the couch <3

Also. Ornament painting with them 🥹 just a fun little activity to have some special ornaments to hang on the tree, and you don’t even notice you are sitting on Simon’s lap while you two are painting. When it’s time to decorate the tree, it’s a group effort that ends with Simon just easily picking you up to place the star/angel on the top. The excited look on your face was absolutely worth it.

And not only do they hang up the misteltoe, they’ll be carrying it and holding it up above whenever they manage to lololol trust that Christmas is only made better with lotsss of kisses <33

[psychhound]

ttrpgs in the classroom (part 8)

oh boy have i not made one of these posts in ,,, like a year. grad school is crazy yall. lmao. but. i wanted to share what we do for our analysis unit now that we've hit it this semester!!

other games used in the unit:

we are but worms & graves for funerals

the assignment:

write an essay of approximately 1000 words doing a literary analysis of some aspect of a game, first forming an inquiry question, then looking in the text for evidence, then coming up with an argument about a deeper meaning of the text. the second draft of the assignment can either be an expanded essay, or a multimodal piece of the student's choosing. (the other option for this essay is to do a rhetorical analysis of an argumentative text about gaming)

the games:

[ID: a powerpoint slide titled choose your fighter game (the word fighter is crossed out, so it reads choose your game). it shows five ttrpg titles, with a short description of each, and an icon to represent them. the background is a light orange sky and green grass in a video game like art style. there is a fake game menu bar on the bottom. the games in the slide are functionally described below. end ID]

when we made war upon the slumbering woods by richard kelly @sprintingowl

a collaborate journey into the magical woods ... to destroy it

the treasure at the end of this dungeon is an escape from this dungeon and we will never escape from this dungeon by riverhouse games @riverhousegames

a lyric game about a never-ending dungeon and those stuck there

kenzie's project by sasha winter @stargazersasha

a Weird Academia horror game for three players

i love you, alive girl by anna anthropy

a 1-page game about writing love letters under surveillance

drifters by gila rpgs

a Weird West game of gunslingers and their guns

past semesters game options:

a dragon game by chris bissette cozy town by rae nedjadi @temporalhiccup

the process:

in the powerpoint introducing the games, i have a more thorough description of each one, and then three examples of inquiry questions that they could use as jumping off points to do their analysis on. the inquiry questions ask things like, what moral stance might this game align itself with, what other stories is this game in dialogue with and to what effect, what does this game have to say about the current state of our society? the students can use these inquiry questions or not, theyre only meant to be examples

the results:

this is definitely the most challenging project for my students, but i think that challenge is good for them! i've had really mixed results, with the most common issue i run into just being surface level analysis. they are, however, 18 and have never done anything like this before (for the vast majority of my students) so a lot of my feedback is just pushing them further and trying to get them to say something interesting. i really love a dragon game and cozy town, but i found they didnt have enough context of ttrpgs and dnd/pf to really Get why a dragon game was interesting, so i replaced it with escape from this dungeon since thats got some more meat for them like voicey rules and characters. and im a big fan of nedjadi's games and wanted to give my students something more cute and fun, but they struggled to find much to read into or say about it that wasnt very surface level. escape from this dungeon and ilu, alive girl are new games this semester so we will see how those go over!!

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Steddie artists you'll want to follow right now

Today's challenge at @st-loveconfessions was to rec your favorite artists, which I think is a fantastic idea! You always see fic rec lists, but so few artist rec lists!

My list of favorites has become quite long after 2+ years in this fandom, and I've had the pleasure of working on collabs or receiving gifts from quite a few of these lovely people. They are all amazingly talented, each with their own gorgeous style and unique way of bringing our boys alive in their works. Please check them out and leave them lots of love!

❤️ @house-of-the-moving-image - my partner in crime who keeps blowing my mind with their talent and skill. Also the way they draw Steve's hair makes me wanna bury my face in it and inhale. It's so floofy!

❤️ @becomingfoxes - Andria is a gift to this fandom and a wonderful, sweet, generous person all over. She doesn't just draw amazing, stunning, beautiful art, she also binds fics and writes her own! The whole deal!

❤️ @arelliann - stunning use of light and colors, I wanna munch on their art! The flower shop AU pic lives rent-free in my head.

❤️ @penny00dreadful - pin-up Steve, pin-up Steve, PIN-UP STEVE!!! Sam is so sweet and talented, not only as an artist but as a writer also! I always love seeing her on my dash!

❤️@starthecozy - I can't get over how cute that art style is! Every new piece puts a huge smile on my face!

❤️ @cuips-not-cute - another double deal! Gorgeous, unique art style and stunning writing!

❤️ @firefly-party - "Held." Do I need to say more? Seriously, if you haven't seen it, run, don't walk.

❤️ @waldos-art - Another scrumptious, unique art style. I love the way the faces and poses are so expressive!

❤️ @hereforanepilogue - Their art makes me so happy, and I'm still so glad I got to write a little fic for their piece of Steddie at the aquarium, it was so much fun!

❤️ @xgumiho - 🤯This is me every time Jules posts something new. The way she plays with muted color palettes and black and white is just!!! I'll never get over how gorgeous her piece for my 2023 Steddie Big Bang fic turned out!

❤️ @peachypurr - Beautiful, vibrant, colorful style, and the third member of our Big Bang 2023 team. All the love!

❤️ @maikaartwork - I must admit I'm horrible at telling apart art styles, but maika's I would recognize anywhere. I adore how they draw the boys and I'm always excited for new art from them!

❤️ @doomcheese - Another style I'd recognize anywhere, and another one I can't get enough of. No matter if the vibes are sexy or funny or soft and cozy, doom nails it every time!

Thank you to all of these amazing people for feeding us so well! This fandom is truly blessed to have such talent in it!

(Reblog and tell me your favorite Steddie artists? I love finding new peeps to follow! Plus I'm sure I forgot a ton. 😅)

[warping-realities]

Bed and Breakfast (Repost)

"I can't believe you're gonna make me stay in a dump like that," said the gorgeous woman with an arrogant tone towards her boyfriend, not realizing the owner of the cozy little beach inn was eavesdropping.

"Babe, chill out, the place is actually pretty dope and seems super comfy. Plus, it’s got killer reviews on travel sites. We’ll be lucky if there’s even a spot for us here."

"We wouldn’t have to deal with this crap if you had booked a hotel ahead of time."

"Laura, sweetheart, you picked a trendy spot last minute during peak season; there’s no way we’d find a room, and yet you insisted on coming."

"Of course, all the big shots are here. What do you think my followers would say if I didn't show up? An influencer’s gotta stay on top of all the trends, Jeremy, and this is the hot spot right now—God only knows why," Laura shot back, making her boyfriend sigh before being interrupted by a cheerful and upbeat voice.

"Good evening! I’m Cintia, the owner of Cozy Cabin. Welcome! How can I help you?"

"Good evening, ma’am. I’m Jeremy Grant, and this is my fiancée, Laura. We’re looking for a place to crash."

"Oh no! I’m sorry, but we’re all booked up. Reservations have been closed for over two months; we’ve become super popular lately." The woman, who seemed to be of an age that was hard to pin down, responded. Though she showed signs of age, she had a vibe of joy and youth around her, at that moment tainted by genuine sadness at not being able to help. That turned into indignation and anger when the pretty blonde in front of her let out a dismissive giggle followed by a sharp jab at her fiancé. But before Cintia could say anything, Jeremy quickly jumped in.

"Isn’t there even the slightest chance, Cintia? It would just be for one night so Laura can snap some pics and post them; she’s a digital influencer."

"Really? I’ve never heard of you, darling," Cintia said, taking the moment to get back at the rude young woman, who couldn’t help but fire back.

"I work with a younger crowd; it's understandable if someone your age doesn’t know me," Laura replied, making Jeremy cringe and a dangerous glint appear in Cintia’s eyes.

"Ah, trust me, I know how to spot a real influencer with clout. Right now, we’ve got Miguel Ramos, the famous fitness influencer, crashing here; it’s his fifth year visiting us during this time. Which gives me an awesome idea to help you out. If you’ll excuse me for a sec, I’ll be back with some info."

"Stupid hag," Laura muttered bitterly as soon as Cintia left the room.

"Baby, you kinda poked the bear..."

"Don’t you dare take her side, Jeremy. How could she compare me to that fairy Miguel Ramos?"

"Laura, watch your mouth. I’ve heard a lot about Miguel Ramos; he was a respected personal trainer before he blew up as a fitness influencer and has a solid follower base."

That was a huge understatement, and they both knew it. While Laura’s follower count hadn’t even hit the hundreds of thousands mark, Miguel’s had already smashed through the million barrier. And obviously, the vain woman didn’t like being reminded of that and soon found a reason to roast her fiancé.

"Jeremy, that scruff of yours looks awful! How many times have I told you to keep your face smooth? My followers prefer you to match my look!"

Jeremy didn’t know if that was true; Laura’s followers really did hype up how well they matched in appearance. But he couldn’t help but wonder if the fact that Laura dressed him in similar styles to hers, combined with her nagging to keep his face smooth and his blond hair styled in neat curls, made them look so much alike that some people thought they were siblings instead of a couple. It was proof enough of a totally narcissistic nature, as the class bullies loved to shout. But every time those thoughts popped up, Jeremy quickly shoved them aside; he had long accepted that he’d be nobody without his girlfriend, to the point of giving up his career as a gym teacher to follow her, making sure all her wishes were met and canceling himself out in every way. Because he was dead sure he wasn’t worthy of her love and that no one in the world could love him like she did. It was exactly because he thought all this that when he saw Cintia return with a satisfied look on her face, he replied calmly.

"Yeah, babe, that’s the first thing I’ll do once we hit the room."

"My dears, I found a solution; it’s not perfect, but it should help for today," Cintia started with a playful grin and that spark in her eyes. "We have a few rooms with extra beds that aren’t being used, and two of our guests have kindly offered those beds to you for a couple of nights. In two days, Mrs. Goldschmitt will be heading home, and her room will be free if you want to extend your stay."

"You mean you want us to crash in separate rooms?" Laura asked, indignantly.

"It was the best I could do, dear. Of course, if that doesn’t work for you, feel free to scram and find somewhere else," Cintia replied with a frosty smile.

"No, no, that’s cool; we’ll take it!" Jeremy quickly interrupted, wanting to avoid more drama and losing the only place they found.

"Great! Follow me, then; I’ll have one of the staff take your bags to your respective rooms," Cintia said, looking genuinely pleased as she led them down a hallway and a flight of stairs to the first room. She knocked on the door, which was promptly opened by a handsome Latino man in his thirties, with muscles that popped under a fitted white t-shirt and a friendly smile on his rugged, bearded face.

"Goodnight," he said simply, his voice oozing masculinity.

"Miguel, darling! These are Jeremy and Lau..."

"You don’t need to introduce me; I’m sure Miguel knows who I am," Laura interrupted while Miguel stared at her like she was some exotic creature that had just landed in front of him.

"Laura... apparently she’s a digital influencer," Cintia continued as if she hadn’t been rudely interrupted. "Jeremy and Laura, this is Miguel Ramos, the guy we talked about earlier, who kindly agreed to give Jeremy the extra bed in his room."

"Thanks for the lovely intro, Cintia; it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Laura, and you too, Jer..." Miguel started, only to be cut off by Laura.

"I think our followers would love a collab from us."

"Um, sure, we can chat about that tomorrow, Laura. I believe you both are wiped out now, and Cintia still needs to take you to your room."

"Yeah, yeah, you’re right; we’ll sort everything out tomorrow. Shall we bounce then?" Laura wrapped up, talking to Cintia without even saying goodbye to Jeremy, who then stepped up to his girlfriend and kissed her on the cheek.

"Good night, love; sleep tight!" he said before entering the room and watching his fiancée being led away by Cintia.

.....

"Welcome, Jeremy; unfortunately, you’ll have to take the single bed."

"Thanks, Miguel; you didn’t have to do that or pretend to know Laura."

"Ahh, I’m sorry about that, but I thought it was better; I know how sensitive some influencers can be about not being recognized. I’ve never really cared about that, but I’ve seen some awkward situations, to say the least. And about the bed, it’s just a bed; I’m not really using it, and Cintia asked me for a favor; she’s a good friend and helped me out a lot when... anyway, you’re welcome here."

"Still, you didn’t have to do any of that; thanks a ton," Jeremy replied as he prepped to crash, thinking about what Miguel had left unsaid. It was no secret that his breakup with his long-time boyfriend, a big-time film actor, had been a massive bummer, so much so that he had stayed out of the spotlight for months until he was spotted on the beach close to where they were, which is why the interest in the place had exploded. The only news was that he wouldn’t be staying in some fancy hotel but in Cintia’s cozy little inn. Laura should be stoked, Jeremy thought before dozing off; she went looking for copper and apparently struck gold.

Already lying in the single bed, Jeremy found the guts to say something else.

"Miguel, seriously, thanks a bunch; I really appreciate your kindness... but... well... I apologize in advance if Laura throws a fit about the sleeping arrangements... she’s used to getting her way, and... well... there might be some jealousy or something..."

"She doesn’t need to worry, Jeremy; I’m not into guys skinnier, smaller, and younger than me," Miguel joked, but it made Jeremy flinch.

"I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to offend you."

"You didn’t offend me, Jeremy; I was just messing around. You can relax in the room; as far as I’m concerned, it’s as much yours as mine. Have a good night."

…..

The morning sun streamed into the inn's bedroom, causing Jeremy to roll over in bed and wake up, rubbing his eyes, treated to a stunning sight: Miguel in just white underwear, his sculpted body on display, staring intently at the bedroom wall like he was lost in thought. At that moment, Jeremy felt something he never thought he would feel upon seeing another dude: a pang of desire, mixed with a familiar sensation in his dick that he only associated with seeing Laura’s naked beauty. His surprise was so intense that he moved abruptly, waking Miguel from his daydream.

"Good morning; sorry if I woke you; I forgot to close the curtains last night."

"No problem," Jeremy replied, hiding his erection with a pillow.

"Anyway, I’m already heading out for my morning run before breakfast."

"Oh man, I miss doing that!" Jeremy commented.

"Do you do this too?"

"Yeah, I was a physical educator just like you, but since I started following Laura... she’s not a morning person and gets all cranky when I wake her up early... anyway, I’ve been running on the treadmill while she shoots her videos at the gym."

"If you want to train with me..."

"Nah, man, thanks, but no. I’ll catch some more Z’s," Jeremy replied, still trying to hide his erection.

"Then I’ll see you later. Sweet dreams," said a fully dressed Miguel as he left the room, leaving Jeremy alone with his confusing thoughts.

…….

To say the trip had been a letdown for Laura would be a massive understatement. First, Jeremy couldn’t even make a simple reservation and had the nerve to blame her when he should’ve seen this coming. Then there was the beach itself; she had never liked the sun and sea, and just thinking about sand made her skin crawl. But unfortunately, thanks to Miguel Ramos’ star-studded divorce and his apparent bad taste, that little beach was the hot spot for the summer. Ending up in the same inn as him could be a golden opportunity, but for that, she had to deal with the arrogant old bat who owned the place, the fact that her fiancé was sleeping in the same room as that gay dude, and the annoying roommate she was sure had been chosen by the old hag just to irritate her. And it was with a look reflecting her inner bitterness that she waited for her fiancé to show up for breakfast, which only made her angrier, since she wasn’t used to waiting and stubbornly refused to call him. After all, he should know his place and duties!

It was with that sour expression that Miguel found her after taking a shower and getting dressed as quietly as possible to avoid waking the still-snoozing Jeremy. Seeing that expression made him seriously consider making a run for it from the breakfast room without being seen, especially since he hadn’t had a great first impression of Laura, which was confirmed when he checked out the kind of content she produced, with Jeremy looking more like an accessory to her outfit than an actual boyfriend, raising the suspicion that maybe the other guy was stuck in an abusive relationship like he himself had experienced until recently. But before he had time to bolt, their eyes locked, and a practiced smile crept onto her face, not quite reaching her predatory eyes. Knowing that game all too well, Miguel plastered on a smile just as fake as hers and approached her table.

"Good morning, Miguel; I hope Jeremy’s snoring wasn’t too much of a bother," Laura said, kicking off the conversation in the worst way possible and making Miguel’s smile fade.

"On the contrary, it didn’t bother me at all; Noah snored way worse," he replied, a look of irritation briefly crossing Laura’s face due to the comparison with her ex-husband. Wasn’t it enough that her boyfriend was sleeping in the same room as him?

"You’re too kind, but it’s my fiancé you’re talking about; no one knows him like I do."

"Of course, and if you’ll let me say, checking out your posts on social media it’s clear to see all your influence on him," Miguel replied, barely hiding the sarcasm in his voice.

"Thanks. It was hard work," Laura shot back without realizing the dig hidden in his comment. "Speaking of work, when are we gonna do our collab?" she concluded.

"We’ll definitely figure something out," he replied in turn, knowing that as far as he was concerned, that was never gonna happen. "If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment now. Maybe you should check on Jeremy; when I left the room, he was out cold. It seemed to me like he hadn’t slept that well in ages." He finished with a bright, genuine smile before exiting the room, leaving a fuming Laura behind.

Although Miguel’s statement was meant to poke at Laura, it wasn’t too far from the truth. Jeremy had slept like a baby and didn’t even stir when Miguel returned to the room and got ready for breakfast. If he had woken up, he would’ve been mortified, because he ended up ripping off his pajama shirt in his sleep, and without realizing it, he reached for his erection that had returned with Miguel’s presence in the room, while his mind filled with one of the most different and vivid dreams he’d ever had. In the dream, he found himself lying completely naked on a beach not too different from the one the inn was on, and with the sun bathing his body, a beautiful blonde woman approached and began kissing his naked body. He couldn’t tell if it was Laura or not, because each kiss in the dream sent him into an ecstasy so intense that it overshadowed any sense other than pleasure, so much so that he only realized the figure in his dream had shifted to a muscular, bearded man with his dark body glistening with sweat in the morning sun, just seconds before he was jolted awake by the indignant voice of his fiancée.

"Jeremy, so this is what you were doing instead of meeting me for breakfast? Jerkin’ off in that queer’s room? How disgusting!" Laura barked, her face twisted in outrage as she found her boyfriend in that compromising position. Jeremy, caught off guard, shot back without thinking.

"Never use that kind of word in my presence again, Laura; if there’s anything disgusting, it’s those expressions!"

"Jeremy, how dare you correct me! Disgusting, yes, and even more disgusting are the habits of these faggots, but apparently, you’re already pretty used to it, huh? Jerk off in one of their bedrooms? And you didn’t even shave that gross beard. As if you just cut your hair without talking to me, I’m at my limit!" she fired back, causing all the layers of inhibition to come crashing down on a now more awake Jeremy.

"I’m sorry, babe; I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. Give me a few minutes to get ready, and we can have breakfast together," he said, falling back into his servile habits as he struggled to understand what she meant about his beard and hair.

"Well, you can have your breakfast alone. And you don’t even need to come with me to the beach; I’ll take Kayla to help me. Make the most of your day without my presence!" she replied angrily, storming out of the room and leaving a confused and still groggy Jeremy behind.

He, in turn, stood up and stretched, losing his balance a bit as he felt the strange sensation that he seemed to be a good few inches taller, which he knew was nonsense, since no one grows overnight other than the fact that he had been this height since the start of his adult life, which had helped him in many volleyball and basketball games when he was younger. Other activities he missed but couldn’t find time in his day to practice. He had never resented Laura for these things, but deep down, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of irritation for having given up pretty much all his interests for hers. Shaking his head in an attempt to shove those intrusive thoughts aside, he headed to the bathroom and took a long shower, knowing it was pointless to look for his girlfriend while she was in that mood; poor Kayla, whoever she was, would have to put up with Laura that morning, he thought with uncharacteristic sarcasm as he soaped the six-pack abs on his torso, this time without trying to shake that thought away. After stepping out of the shower, he looked at himself in the mirror; for someone who could no longer stick to a strict workout routine, he looked pretty damn good; he was lean but built, and his short beard accentuated the angles of his face, framed by his golden curls.

Maybe it was time for Laura to learn to appreciate the boyfriend she had better, he thought, leaving the bathroom without shaving, before changing and getting ready to enjoy a morning of sun and sea without Laura’s constant complaints and orders, which without a doubt was the best thing that could have happened, said a new invasive thought that once again did not go away.

……..

Jeremy wandered along the seawall for several minutes, feeling the sand beneath his feet, the scent of the sea breeze filling his lungs, and the sun’s rays bathing his fair skin, even though he knew he risked getting burned; it felt too good to let go. After wandering for a long time, he sat down on the beach and simply let himself be engulfed by it all, a wave of peace and completeness washing over him. Without realizing that the longer he stayed there, the less white his skin became, turning to a golden summer tone, while his muscles expanded slightly, giving him the look of someone who worked out regularly and carefully. Lost in his own mind he found himself searching for Miguel Ramos' name on social media, and getting lost in the other man's posts.

And there he would have stayed without noticing the changes if he hadn’t been interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Hey, roomie, watch out for a burn on your skin!"

Looking up he came face to face with the target of his interested scrutiny in all his glory with a beautiful smile plastered on his face.

"I may not have your Latin genes, Miguel, but it’s been a hot minute since I’ve burned!" he replied, smiling, as that strange feeling invaded him again.

"Still, the sun around here is way stronger than what you’re used to. Let me help you," Miguel replied, approaching with a tube of sunscreen in his hands. "That is, if you don’t mind."

Jeremy did care, not because of any prejudice but because of the fear of what that closeness would make him feel, not to mention the erection that threatened to return. But at the same time, he couldn’t resist that offer.

"No problem; I think you’re exaggerating, but Laura will be a total nightmare if I burn; she already hates my skin being so tanned."

"What nonsense; your skin is gorgeous; that tan pops real nice against your blonde hair; it gives you a healthy vibe, especially with those defined muscles."

"Thanks, dude; it’s nice to hear a compliment from... hummm," he groaned when he felt the other guy’s strong hands massaging his back.

"Something wrong?" Miguel asked.

"No... no... it’s just that the sunscreen was cold."

"Ah, I’m done. Just a little more down here," Miguel said, his hands moving toward Jeremy’s buttocks, making him tense up.

"Okay, do you want me to apply it on your front?"

"No, you don’t need to; I’ll handle that myself," Jeremy quickly responded, taking the sunscreen from Miguel’s hand without even thinking about those manly hands being so close to his cock.

"And where’s Laura? I thought you were helping with her content."

Thinking about his girlfriend brought an unexpected wave of irritation to Jeremy, like a cloud blocking out the morning sun.

"We had a blowout earlier... she did what she always does, said what she wanted, and bailed on me; I guess hoping I’d chase after her... but not this time... she can fend for herself with her new BFFO," he replied with a touch of bitterness that didn’t go unnoticed by Miguel.

"Relationships can be a real pain sometimes."

"Ours isn’t, but I’m starting to think it’s just because I’m used to canceling myself out for her."

Miguel, who had already picked up on that, chose not to comment.

"Anyway, we should catch up later and sort this out; I still love her, of course, but some things are gonna have to change in our relationship."

"So how about we hit that run now, a little return to your old self?"

"Are you sure you’ll keep up with me, with all this extra size and already running before..."

"Boy, show some respect; I’m not one of the most well-known personal trainers in the world for nothing."

"Then we’ll see!" Jeremy shot back, getting up and taking off running.

……

Laura trudged through the beach sand with disgust. Her morning, like the rest of the trip, had been a total drag. Kayla was pleasant company, sharing the same interests as her, though she was in a lower tier with only a few tens of thousands of followers. Still, she expected Laura to return the favors she did by asking her to take pictures and film videos of her. Simply unbearable. And it was all Jeremy’s fault, obviously. She still couldn’t believe her useless boyfriend hadn’t come looking for her, and even worse, it was her forced to hunt him down again in that damned sand for the second time that day.

With that feeling, she watched two muscular dudes running from the beach edge towards the sea while laughing loudly and then diving in. A ridiculous and childish behavior in her book. So what was her surprise when she saw that one of those guys, the tanned blonde with a pompadour and a faded side cut, sporting a full beard just as blonde, smile and approach her with his muscular, sun-kissed body still glistening from the seawater.

"Hey babe, how was the morning?"

"Jeremy, how dare you leave me hanging like that! And that beard, you said you were gonna trim it! And your hair??? What the hell is this?"

"No hell, Laura. They look the way I like!"

"But not how my followers and I expected! You’re almost bald! That tan and those bulging muscles just don’t cut it!"

"Don’t blow it out of proportion, Laura; if I decide to shave all my hair, I will. Your followers have nothing to do with how I choose to style my hair or beard."

"Of course, it has everything to do with it; you’re my boyfriend; you affect how people see me!"

"Apparently, that’s the only thing I’m good for, how I make others perceive you."

"And how would it be any different? I make a living off this; I’m an influencer, and my boyfriend needs to be on brand with me."

"I’m not your accessory, Laura."

"Well, babe, in the end, it’s like you are!"

"So I don’t know if I even wanna keep this relationship going," he replied, turning his back on a furious Laura.

"Jeremy! Don’t you dare! Jeremyyyy....!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, but he didn’t look back and walked aimlessly toward the other side of the beach, under the watchful eye of Miguel Ramos.

…..

Jeremy wandered the beach for several minutes, trying to calm the influx of thoughts. He was torn between the despair of losing the woman he thought he loved and the growing contempt for that same woman. How could he have canceled himself out for so long? How could he not see who she was? And at the same time, she had been his life for the past few years; how could he live without her? There’s no way he could do that! Deciding to run back after her and humble himself for her forgiveness, he started sprinting. He only stopped when he heard the voice that made him start to associate with that strange feeling, a mix of desire and discomfort.

"Hey, Big Guy, what’s the rush?" asked a grinning Miguel, sitting on a bench at a beach bar.

"Sorry, Miguel; I need to find Laura!"

"And what’s the point in talking to her with your head all hot? Wait for you two to cool off."

"You don’t get it!"

"Ah, I get it. I get it so much that I’m gonna offer you the two things you need most right now: company and a few shots of tequila!"

"I don’t know, man..."

"Relax, dude, and follow me," Miguel said, grabbing Jeremy by the arms and leading him to a table at the bar.

…..

"I shouldn’t get in the middle of your relationship with your girlfriend. But I recently went through a messy divorce. And honestly, it took me a long time to realize I was in an abusive relationship," Miguel said to a downcast Jeremy.

"I’m not in a relationship like that; I love Laura," Jeremy replied, but with way less conviction than he wanted to show.

"And does she return that love? Does she love you the same way you love her?"

"Of course..."

"Really? Be honest with yourself if you don’t wanna be honest with someone you barely know."

"I want to believe that, but..."

"But you have doubts. Let me propose a game: I’m gonna ask you some questions about relationships, and for every positive answer from you and me, we’ll down a shot of tequila; I bet we’ll polish off a bottle in no time."

"First question: Have you ever felt like you were putting way more into this relationship than your partner?"

Both took a shot, and though neither noticed, Jeremy’s tan deepened, reaching a caramel shade very close to Miguel’s.

"Second question: Have you ever felt belittled by your partner?"

Another shot for both. And now Jeremy had shot up a few inches taller than Miguel.

"Third question: Have you ever felt like you’re nothing more than an accessory to your partner, that they don’t even see you as a person but as an object?"

Another shot. Another change. Jeremy’s muscles swelled, surpassing Miguel’s size and reaching the proportions of an amateur bodybuilder. The bottle was already half empty, but both men, who weren’t small, were already pretty tipsy, as that level of drinking wasn’t part of either of their habits.

"One more... one more..." a drunken Miguel said, looking extremely distorted in Jeremy’s vision. "Have you ever felt like you’re in this relationship out of fear... scared that you’re not good enough... that you can’t be loved by someone else... and that your partner takes advantage of that to keep you stuck with them?"

Another shot, and Jeremy’s already blurry vision began to swirl as a wave of anxiety took hold of him for finally admitting those truths, even while drunk. Miguel was spinning in front of him, and he felt an immense urge to get up and bolt, but when he did, he fell to the ground.

"Jeremy, Jeremy..." he heard the voice in the distance, that voice which stirred so many feelings within him. "Jeremy..." a voice that made him realize he could still desire and be desired... "Jer...." the voice that made him tingle just hearing it. "Jav..." the voice of the man he was in love with but couldn’t admit.

"Javier, get up; is everything cool?"

And Javier stood up amidst laughter.

"It’s all good, Miguel; it takes way more than a shot of tequila to take down a man my size," he replied with a grin, sitting back down at the table. At the same time, he ran his hands through his shiny black beard.

"Let me ask the question now," Javier said, beaming wider. "Do you think you’re ready to ditch this relationship and move on to better things?"

One more shot for both.

…..

Javier lay back on a couch of the exclusive rooftop bar Miguel that Miguel reserved just for the two of them, feeling his head spinning. While his roommate spent some not-so-productive time feeling the same way sitting on the toilet. As he tried hard not to toss his cookies, he felt his phone buzz. When he looked at the screen, he noticed there were tons of messages and calls from an unknown number. Choosing to deal with it when he was in better shape, he closed his eyes and thus didn’t see each of those messages and calls vanish from his records.

With his head still spinning, he slipped into a restless sleep filled with rapidly changing dreams, until again he dreamed of that slim, stunning blonde. In the dream, she lay down on him again and started kissing his naked body, but without provoking any reaction in him, nothing, no excitement, no pleasure, until once again the smooth woman’s skin gave way to the rough sensation of a beard brushing against his body, and it was Miguel who kissed him, reigniting the flame of desire within him. While he slept, he moaned with excitement, a powerful erection between his legs, until he finally woke up feeling Miguel’s real mouth wrapped around his swollen cock. Trapped in that feeling of pleasure, he pulled the other man closer to him, being overtaken by the now familiar sensation of raw desire.

After hours of wild sex, Javier sat on the edge of the couch. with the strange feeling that he had forgotten something, as usual when this happened he found himself mentally going over his posing routine for his next competition.

Every fiber of his body had been honed with the utmost dedication and commitment, and soon he would be on stage to put all that work to the test. He ran his hand through his raven hair and finished the motion with his soft trimmed beard. He knew he’d have to shave it before the performance, but he was reluctant because Miguel liked him that way. Speak of the devil, Miguel at that moment repositioned himself on the couch and smiled.

"A penny for your thoughts," said the smaller and younger man, but who had still earned the position of his coach and Javier’s heart.

"It’s no biggie, Mig; I was just checking myself out and thinking it’s a shame to shave; you like it so much..."

"Javi, I want you with or without a beard; I don’t care how you look; I care about being with you."

"So you mean if I were smaller and skinnier, you’d still be with me?"

"Maybe you wouldn’t have caught my eye right off the bat, but like I said, I care about the person you are; the man I fell for, and if he gains or loses weight, that’s not gonna change."

"Thanks, babe; that’s really nice to hear," Javier replied.

"You know what else is nice? Your posing routine, show it to me babe."

"You've seen it a hundred times, babe."

"What can I do if I can't get enough of watching my hot fiancé flex his muscles for me?" Miguel said with a mischievous smile, making a big smile spread across Javiers face, who even tried to pose seriously, crossing the covered area of ​​the lounge towards the balcony, but failing miserably and loving every second of it as he heard the whistles and flirtations of the passionate man he had chosen to have by his side.

……

The afternoon sun shone brighter than ever, but even that didn’t seem to brighten a sunburned Laura’s mood as she gossiped with Kayla at the beach bar while they discreetly watched Miguel and Javier talking.

"Is this a good time? They seem to be having a spat," Kayla asked her friend.

"Just because they’re serious doesn’t mean they’re fighting. If we consider their social media, they’re living the dream," Laura replied.

"You know as well as I do how misleading social media can be."

"Still, this is our chance to collab with them; it’s not every day we get to work with two of the biggest fitness influencers in the game."

"Smile; they’re looking this way!" said Kayla, making both of them flash identical fake smiles, returned by a nod from the fitness couple of the year, who then got up and headed toward the beach.

"There goes our shot," Laura grumbled.

"Don’t sweat it, girl; people like you always get what’s coming to them," said a smiling Cintia, who was passing by before positioning herself at the bar counter and grinning.

A grin that widened when she saw Miguel and Javier together on the beach sharing a passionate kiss. If there was something she took pride in, it was a job well done, and at her inn, that meant way more than just a bed and breakfast.

[libertyybellls]

FEMALE ROBBERY !

pairing; finnick odair x dist4!victor!f!reader

summary; meeting finnick at your capitol victor party, he is nothing short of entranced.

contains; fluff! just pure fluff, innocent- sweet, comforting, brief mentions of forced prostitution but no detail.

a/n; i was lowkey turning into anakin skywalker when i started writing about how much reader hates sand but it adds personality ok…

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

you were shivering, teeth practically chattering. the wide doors that led to the back of the luxurious party-mansion were wide open. your dress offered little warmth and neither did the people around you- their arrogance and bright colors offered no heat, no coziness, no reminders of home.

your wearing a corset dress- low cut, your chest on great display, you feel like the short hemmed bottomed makes you out to flash everyone at this party.

your hair has braids scattered about- your original hair texture is long gone with the amount of heat styling they’ve done on it throughout your victory tour and interviews. bows adorn the ends of each small braid that lays on your now, flat- straight hair.

the meaningless conversation, and congratulations throughout this party is enough to drive you mad. you need air- oh-so cold but nonetheless you needed more air. you’re feet are moving past people- people who grab at you, yelling praises, trying to get a passing word with you.

but you’re mind is racing, you need to sit in silence and breath.

you find a garden- you don’t have enough greenery back in your district, more ocean, too much sand, too much heat.

the sand got everywhere. you couldn’t complain about the ocean- oh, how you loved the water. but once the sand got in your hair, your shoes, your towel, your clothes- it couldn’t get out. it seemed sand would never leave you alone- president snow reminded you all too much of sand.

it felt like an infirmary sentencing, a life estimation. once the words ‘capitols doll’ left his mouth, ‘desirable’, ‘young, sweet, and pretty’ you felt sick- you’d live your life in misery until another innocent tribute would come along and take all of the heat. but you’d always be in a hotel room, in the capitol, entertaining the people like a puppet on a string.

you don’t think you’ve been warm since you heard those words, you don’t think there’s been enough air- but now, in this garden, everything seems okay.

you sit on a bench, rose bushes surrounding you, a few flowers you can name but never seen- only in books.

your hands are in your lap now, fingers playing with one another- your deep breathes began to lower your blood pressure.

until you hear footsteps nearing on the cold- crunchy grass that’s been frozen over from the weather.

he’s tall- shirtless. what stylist would do that to someone in this nippy weather? but you think your stylist would send you off to these parties naked if he had no decency, too.

he’s finnick odair. even the wind flirting your eyes can recognize that. how couldnt you? the poster boy of your district, sex symbol of panem, but you don’t comprehend any of it.

“you’ve found my spot.” he’s smirking, you can understand why people in the capitol swoon over him- not even six seconds and your body rushes with warm blood.

then you process his words, slowly scrambling to grab your clutch and rising to your feet. he puts his hand up, signaling for you to halt your movements.

“it’s nice to have company.” and so you move your bag over , allowing him more room to sit on the bench.

you don’t speak, atleast you don’t know what to say- you don’t ask questions or say something stupid. finnicks voice breaks the thick barrier of silence; “nice party they gave you.”

he’s joking, and his slight laugh makes you laugh. you’d won nearly a month ago- many sleepless nights covered with makeup and fake eyelashes. “yeah, i’m so grateful for them all.” you breathily laugh off.

the playfulness of this all is refreshing. it almost makes you long forget about your grim past and even darker impending doom.

he turns his head towards you, scanning your face- then to the rose bushes surrounding the both of you- then back to your face. “too many roses every where, i’m starting to hate the smell of them.”

you pick up on his small talk, and you almost laugh a little- he’s acting like a grade-school boy. “i’m beginning to think it possibly the ugliest thing natures created now.”

“mags told me about how mentoring you went, we were all relieved when you won.” you wince when you think about that, he knows that better then anyone here. the heart sinking feeling when your brain slips up for a second- that you don’t let yourself think to hard about, nor too long.

“thanks.” he doesn’t even know you yet, but he know that even if you don’t speak too much the ones you do vocalize have meaning, no vacancy in them. “are you cold?” you can’t help but voice your curiosity.

he looks down on himself, almost as though his body brings him guilt in a way. like he’s ashamed to own it, you’re sure you’ll understand soon.

but within seconds his guard is back up, back to the capitol darling. he simply places your hand on his shoulder, he’s forcing your body to move but in the most genuine way anyone has ever done so.

you feel your cold finger tips merge with his radiant shoulder, like a hypothermic to a heater.

finnicks aura is simply heat, not a touch of coldness. you wonder if it’s his insides pouring into his physical being. does he not have any cold feelings in his heart? is he genuine? “how are you warm right now?”

he only laughs as you try to remove your hand from him in the least awkward way you can, placing your hands back into your lap. there’s so many things you want to ask him, tell him. his soul is like a confession booth, that you’ve heard before. all the secrets he knows, all of the words only he’s been told.

“does it get better? even if you’ve been told something that doesn’t make you think it will?” he can only imagine what your last words mean, and now his heart drops. no- not someone like you? so young so unsuspecting, but weren’t they all?

“if you have someone to lean on, you’ll be okay.”

you frown at this, despite your fear of making yourself seem like a complete and utter loser to the golden boy of panem- you say; “and if i don’t?” you can’t help but think about your overworked tired parents, never home, never cared too much. your friends who you don’t see all too much.

“if you don’t,” he looks up from his lap now, eyes locked onto yours, only your eyes ever- not your exposed chest or the dress that rides up your thighs. “you have me if you’re willing, i think we’ve gotten on well.”

this makes you smile to yourself, you can’t look into his eyes any longer you think you’ll get lost. you feel like a school girl, unable to breathe around the presence of your crush. “i don’t know you all that well, finnick odair.”

he shakes his head, “haven’t you read the news, y/n l/n?” he’s mimicking your words, almost in a sing-song way.

“i don’t tend to make premeditated decisions on who someone is based on what the capitol news says. i prefer to get to know them instead.”

“well, let’s get to know eachother then.” his body turns toward you. flattening his hands onto his lap. “favorite color?”

you look at the grass before you, the stems of the flowers around you, the feeble, poor excuses of barely full bushes that line the sand before the water in district four. “green, not a dark green. something in the middle.” your eyes flick back to his, almost the perfect green you were talking about. “and you?”

“blue.” his two fingers pick up the bows at the end of your hair, you almost roll your eyes at this. too charming you could laugh.

“what are you scared of?”

he thinks about this one, taking a moment to relay his thoughts. it wasn’t death, no. he wouldn’t be scared when his time came, he would just hope the people he loves would be okay, that they’d get through it without him.

“becoming one of them.” he nods his head back to the people scuffling about in frilly dresses and skirts around the main party center. “so moral-less, so demanding. so many things i don’t want to be.”

you shake your head now, “i don’t think you could ever be one of them.” to anyone else this would be an insult, being apart of the capitol was little girls and boys dreams. to live so lavishly and carefree. but once you’ve seen it all, you just want to be by the ocean- at peace, unbothered with those who meant the most to you. “you’re much too good for that.”

finnick believes you, it’s like all he’s needed his whole life was your words that had no hint of second meaning. only pure, true, clean. “if it means anything, i know you couldn’t be anyways. no matter how many bows they put in your hair.” he laughs again, that charming chuckle that sends a butterfly to your stomach. “you have a good heart, i hope that it stays that way.”

it’s all so honest , the whole interaction. but you’ve been away from your own party far too long and you’re almost scared to upset people. “i have to go. i’ll see you around, finnick.” his name is foreign to your tongue almost, but its welcome.

finnick then stands quickly, “when will i see you again?” he almost looks worried.

“soon. we live in the same village after all.”

-

inspired by my favorite, @mrsnancywheeler ‘s fic

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inbox open!

[tac-the-unseen]

What the Lost boys think about vampire related media

Fluff, x reader but just barely

•While making conversation with your four Vampire lovers you were suddenly plagued with a question.

“How do you guys feel about vampire related media?”

-That question was an immediate head turner. The cave goes dead quite before Dwayne speaks up, “Well…vampires are in hiding so…”

-This sparks a conversation about how media representation of vampires may not be accurate, but that's a good thing. “If a book or movie comes out and it is shockingly accurate to what being a vampire is really like, the creator isn't going to last long.” David explained

-That's because there's a set of rules vampires have to follow and one of those rules is to never publicly reveal your double life identity

-”If something like that comes out, that means a vampire has broken that rule OR somebody knows vampires very closely and is creating media they know shouldn't exist.”

-Turns out if a vampire breaks that rule it's basically open season to kill and destroy their creations.

•You turn the conversation and begin to ask how they, specifically, feel about certain vampire representation

•Bram Stoker's Dracula

-Dwayne is the first to buy in his opinion.

-Dwayne feels that while it is a cult classic and well written, The characters are exceedingly dumb.

-”Johnathan spends a ridiculous amount of time talking about other characters ‘Breasts’ and trying to figure out why his host climbs walls ‘like a lizard's.”

-David is the next one to speak up

-David thinks it's not really worth the read

-”Unless you're trying to brag to people there's no point in reading it.”

-”Also why was Mina talking to that old sailor so much?”

-Paul laughs as he remembers “how fucking crazy he wrote Dracula to be”

-”I'm pretty sure the real Dracula thinks it's a heinous crime against him”

-Paul hasn't read it but have heard enough about it to know even the more obscure references

-Marko comments on the graceful writing style and the beautiful descriptions

-”I've only read it because Dwayne thought I would like it"

-Marko also loves how oblivious Jonathan and most of the other characters are

-All of them think the movie adaptation is hilarious and love the shitty special effects

•Interview with a vampire

-Paul chimes in immediately

-”God it's so homo erotic it hurts…in a good way.”

-Paul thinks its a nice horror novel mixed with a weird cozy atmosphere

-Dwayne thinks it's another well written classic and He actually begins to rave about all the themes involved within Anne Rice’s work

-”It's a beautiful Gothic thriller with a deep, sadly comedic energy.”

-He even offers to read it too you sometime

-Marko chimes in quickly about “Claudia’s rebellious behavior and persona”

-”imagine watching your family choose somebody else over you. It's so deeply upsetting but to an understandable level.”

-”I would have hated to turn so young. I look like a teenager and other people can respect that to a certain point. But being five years old with the mind of an adult, No one would respect you.”

-Marko relates to Claudia on an internal level and loves unraveling her character. When you ask why he quickly responds "Some people call me a cherub... You think I enjoy that?"

-David says he doesn't have much to say other than it was a decent read (That's his version of a compliments)

•Twilight

-All of them agree that it's laughably horrendous

-Almost immediately at the same time they say “This is the skin of a killer Bella”

-This leads to banshee like laughter

David speaks up immediately

-”Why do you humans want us to sparkle so bad?”

-”I personally hate the idea of being a walking disco ball, but to each their own.”

-Marko chimes in quickly

-”Would you like it if we sparkled?” He asked while leans on you affectionately

-Marko thinks the only reason to read it is to have a nice laugh

-”Why did Edward have such a violent reaction of Bella standing by a fan? That makes no sense…like I have mates and I enjoy the smell of you guys but…I'm not nearly clawing off my face at your smell”

-”Yeah yeah, I get he's trying not to overreact but running out of class to get away is crazy.”

-Paul even adds that even thought it's very dumb even he can appreciate the message it's trying to said.

-”something something, coming over adversary, something something, love wins, something something..”

-”Also that Jacob imprinting on Bella's infant daughter is super fucking creepy.”

-when you asked Dwayne about his feels he scoffed and said It's insulting at best and borderline sexual harassment at worst.

-He refused to go into depth

•You thank them for humoring you and they tell you that it's no problem

-David kisses the side of your head in an uncharacteristically soft way “We don't ever mind answering your vampire related question.” He tells you

-Marko turns to you “But seriously do you want us to sparkle?”

-”I think I have some roll on body glitter somewhere..” Paul says while getting up to look for it

Thanks for reading <3

[pastlivesxpastlie]

omg would you be down to write nosferatu!sleep token? maybe nosferatu!iii who is really obssessed with the reader with smut and a bit of stalking? thank you so much, love youu🤍

Oh my god, 🤍anon, I lost my mind watching Nosferatu. I’m just going to yap about nosferstu!iii with little plot structure. Also, he’s just wacky maybe not a vampire. Maybe.

also, you know who else loves iii and bill skarsgard? @adenobabe :3 I got the most adorable voice note from her saying she was thinking about iii saying “you must bounce on it crazy style” after I told her about this

MDNI • v short, just for fun • slight dubcon, stalking but in that he shows up everywhere, afab reader, semi public sexual encounters

So, I imagine iii sees you across the room at a show or something and you look so out of place like a lost little lamb (meaning vulnerable and good enough to eat). He cozies up to you and pretends to be your boyfriend when he sees some douche hitting on you. Just walks up behind you, running his nose up your neck hissing “there you are…been looking everywhere for my girl.”

He doesn’t waste anytime and backs you into a dark little corner, his thigh between your legs and his face buried in the crook of your neck. You’re not even sure how you’ve gotten in this position. You’re like

“I-I I don’t even know you.”

And he whispers, “oh but you will, little dove.”

And that’s when you start seeing him everywhere. You stop for a coffee, he’s across the street. At the shops? He’s walking in the opposite direction down an aisle. Driving to work? You see him waiting at the cross walk while you’re at a stoplight. He’s become a presence that you expect. That you miss when you realize you never see him near your house or when you’re on a date.

Finally you decide to go back to where you first saw him—whatever you chose to wear is form fitting and seductive. Surely he’ll be there. He’s some kind of heat seeking missile for you. Being at that place alone scares you a little but you just know he’s there. And it makes turns you on so badly to know he’s just somewhere waiting to pounce. It doesn’t take long. He gently grabs you by the nape of your neck and whispers against the shell of your ear from behind.

“You never leave the house on a Thursday night, dove. What are you doing?”

“Looking for you.”

“Mmm,” he ghosts his lips up your neck and lightly bites your earlobe. “Prey trying to be the hunter? How precious.”

And you lean back against him, feeling his ragged breath and excitement pressed up on you. It’s so dark that no one notices or even cares if people are as close as you are. III pulls you back into the little corner where you rode his thigh the first time (yes I withheld that info from you, reader 😈) but this time he lifts your dress just a bit, tracing your panties as he stares into your eyes.

“You’re mine.”

“Yes…I…I know.” You choke out. Your eyes are rolling back but he’s barely touch you.

“Don’t go looking for me again. Best you stay put and wait for me. Impatient little, minx.” He leans into your personal space, kissing and biting at your neck while his fingers plunge between your folds.

You know better now. If you get impatient and disobedient, you get marked up with embarrassing little hickeys and maybe even a bright red mark on your ass. Yes…you know better than to listen and be a good girl. 🖤🎀

[alwritey-aphrodite]

cozy sweaters with jamie tart PLS!!!! <3 ur amazing

2024 Fall Blurbs

As much as you love Jamie, you’re of the opinion that his fashion taste could use a little work. You know that he puts time and care into buying pieces and putting together outfits, and you love that he knows the styles he feels best in, but there are only so many expensive matching sweat sets and tracksuits you can look at in your closet before going insane. He knows how to clean up well, has an extensive repertoire of date night outfits and clothes for events, as well as more casual outfits, but you wouldn’t be upset if all of his puffer vests magically disappeared.

“I got you a present,” you say as you enter the kitchen, throwing your shopping bags onto the table before turning to Jamie with a grin. “Ok, it’s really a present for me, but the physical object is for you.” You’d been doing some window shopping, with the desire to find a few pieces to spice up and update your cold weather wardrobe, when you’d stumbled into a shop you’ve never heard of, drawn in by the colorful knitwear in the window.

The whole store was full of sweaters and vests and scarves and hats, any sort of knit object you could imagine, in an array of decadent, rich colors and yarn so soft it seemed obscene. You could have spent hours in there, inspecting every single piece twice over, when you managed to find the most beautiful sweater imaginable. It’s a rich, deep green, perfect for the fall and winter months, and while you’d expected it to be at least a little scratchy, slipping it over your head was like entering a cloud. You’d barely looked at yourself in the mirror for a second before you made up your mind about purchasing it, certain you’d regret your decision forever if you left the store empty-handed.

As you made your way to the register, you passed by the men’s section, and you were so excited you could have squealed when you saw the same sweater you were currently holding, only this time in Jamie’s size. It was as if your hands were moving on their own accord as you snatched up the second sweater and marched towards the checkout, coming to outside the shop with two new sweaters, one for you and one for Jamie.

“Just try it on, ok? And keep an open mind?” You ask as you hand Jamie the shopping bag with his sweater, your matching one tucked in with the rest of your purchases. You can tell that you’re freaking him out a little, and that any normal item of clothing wouldn’t come with so many caveats, but he leaves the kitchen all the same, giving you just enough time to throw on your own sweater before he reemerges.

It takes him a few seconds, staring at you as your grin threatens to split your face, but then he’s laughing, doubling over with the force of it.

“Babe, this is ridiculous,” he says once he can breathe again, crossing the kitchen to wrap you in his arms.

“I know, that’s why I bought them,” you explain, rewarded for your joy with a kiss to your forehead.

“We’ll have to wear these tomorrow, when we go out for dinner,” he proposes, resisting the urge to laugh again.

“It’s like you read my mind.”

[holylulusworld]

Frostbite

Summary: You are cold and pissed.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: language, pissed reader, remorse, fluff

“Hey, can you preheat the bunker?” You sighed as Dean grumbled at the other end of the line. “Dean, did you hear me? I have everything we will need for the holidays. I’m on my way back.” Slowing the car down due to the snow you tried to focus on the road, not Dean chuckling as you are cold again. “DEAN!”

“What are you, bread?” The hunter snickered and made a joke about you being a bread, heat, and your cold feet.

“No,” you grunted into the phone. “I’m a warm and delicious pie with a wet filling you’ll never get to taste again.” You angrily hung up the phone.

After buying all the things for Christmas, booze for Dean, and gifts, you couldn’t wait to drive home to a warm and cozy bunker.

It was freezing outside, and damn cold.

One phone call later you weren’t just cold. You were downright pissed too. All you asked for was for Dean to preheat the bunker so you could warm up after being out in the cold for hours.

“Wait for it, Winchester! You’ll not get any,” you grunted and slammed your hands onto the steering wheel. “This includes pie and booze!”

“Dean?” Sam laughed as his brother ran around the bunker, pillows, a soft blanket, and your favorite plushie tugged under his arm. “Where is the fire?”

Dean stopped in his tracks, shook his head, and ran toward your shared room without sparing his brother a second glance.

“What did you do this time?”

“Nothing!” Dean yelled at his brother while running along the hallway.

“Nothing?” Sam pressed on. “Is that the reason I’m running around in a tank top and shorts because I feel like you are trying to cook me?”

“Y/N is cold…again.”

“Let me guess,” Sam dipped his head, a smirk creeping on his face, “you fucked up and said something stupid…again.”

“Just shut up, bitch!” Dean stormed off, grumbling under his breath. The last thing he needed was his baby brother teasing him for messing things up.

“Jerk!” Sam retorted and walked away. He didn’t want to get involved in your fight. The heat in the bunker was worse enough. All Sam wanted was to have a shower and to be left alone.

“Dean, what the—??” You stopped short in your tracks when you carried the first bags inside the bunker. It felt like the heat at the bunker hit you out of nowhere. “Warm…no hot…”

“Sweetheart,” Dean exclaimed loudly. He hurriedly made his way toward you to snatch the bags out of your hands. “Let me handle this. You’ll go to the bathroom and have a warm bath.”

Dean pushed the bags in Sam’s hands who only sneaked around the bunker to watch his brother make amends.

“Sammy, bring these into the kitchen. Take care of the rest in the trunk.”

“Dean! What are you,” you squeaked and tried to fight your boyfriend when he picked you up in bridal style to carry you toward the bathroom. “Let me down! Damnit, Winchester. I’m mad at you.”

“I’ll prepare a warm bath for you. I waited for you to come home,” Dean smirked as you squirmed in his arms.

“A bath won’t make things up to me. I asked you to do one thing for me after I ran around town for hours to get all the shit we’ll need,” you crossed your arms over your chest and pouted at Dean.

“It’s just…” He snickers. “You’re such a cute frostbite and I love warming you up. You always snuggle closer to me to get warm and cozy.”

“You want me to freeze so you can warm me up?”

“I love warming you up,” he chuckled. “You’re my little frostbite and I’m your heater to warm you up. We’re the perfect match.”

“You’re still an ass, and on my naughty list.”

“Uh-huh. Did you hear that Sammy, I’m on her naughty list,” Dean grinned. “I bet she loves it when I’m naughty—” You covered Dean’s mouth with your hand.

“Dean, stop talking! You can't say things like that in front of Sam.”

“Aw, come on, sweetheart. Teasing Sammy is half the fun,” he grinned and chuckled as you suppressed a giggle. “Baby, are you still mad at me?”

“A little less because you preheated the bunker for me,” you whispered in his ear and tugged at his earlobe. “If you warm me up real good tonight, I'll consider forgiving you.”

Dean made an odd noise at your words.

“I got you warm blankets and pillows. I cooked for you too, baby. I swear, after your bath, I’ll warm you up so good you will never need me to preheat the bunker for you again…” 

Tags in reblog.

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 6)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Harry is full of surprises including a package shipped to Y/N's home, shows cancelled due to the flu, and an unexpected visit.

Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5

Word Count: 4.8k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There’s over five weeks between when you arrive home from Chigaco and when you finally have your doctor's appointment scheduled. The first week, you feel totally fine. Spending a full weekend with Harry, dropping in his presence, and being scented by him has completely taken care of your touch deprivation symptoms. Temporarily.

By week two the dizziness starts to creep up again. Then the itching, followed by the chills. No matter what you do, you just cannot seem to get warm. Towards the end of the third week, it’s starting to become unbearable. You’re constantly exhausted and shaky and just so cold.

Even though you have been talking to Harry almost every day, you haven’t told him how bad the depri has been getting. Part of you still hasn’t gotten over your pride. It’s difficult to admit that you need help just due to your biology. The other part of you doesn’t want to worry him. You know how busy he is and the last thing you want to do is add another stressor.

Even without you saying anything, the alpha seems to sense that you’re struggling. Just as it’s getting really bad a package arrives at your door. It’s a huge box and when you open it you find it filled with a number of smaller, sealed bags.

There’s a note on top, handwritten by Harry, that reads:

Dear Y/N,

I hope you’ve been doing well since we last saw each other. I know you still haven’t been able to get new soothers yet and I was worried your touch deprivation symptoms might be bothering you again. I remember you saying that nesting doesn’t help much without other scents present.

I’ve scented a number of materials for you. Sarah has as well, in case it’s better to have a variety. The bags will trap the scent in, which is why I’ve separated the materials into a few different bags. You can open each as you need more, and they’ll hold on to our scents longer.

I know nesting is very private for omegas, so don’t feel like you need to report back if it worked or not, though I’m always here to listen if you’d like to talk about it.

Sincerely Yours,

Harry

It’s late-afternoon and you’ve already finished your work for the day, so you start looking at the labels on the bags. There are blankets, shirts, sweatshirts, hats, scarves, stuffed animals. Anything you could want to make a perfect nest.

Suddenly you’re hit with an overwhelming desire to build a nest, something you’ve never felt before. There’s a section of your room between the bed and the wall that will be the perfect spot. It’s cozy, tucked away from the rest of the apartment, and the large windows let it sunlight for most of the day.

The first thing you do is vacuum the carpet, needing it to be perfectly clean in order to begin the project. Next, you grab the old twin mattress out of your basement storage space, grateful that you hadn’t thrown it away when upgrading to a queen-sized bed. It fits perfectly in the spot you’ve chosen, and you take out your own spare comforters and blankets for the base. Since they’ll be covered in scented objects you figure you’ll save the scented blankets for another time.

After the base is made you get stuck. You’ve never successfully nested before, and you’re unsure where to begin.

It’s a frustrating feeling. You’re an omega, nesting should be second nature to you.

Before you can spiral too deep, you call Harry who immediately answers with a “Hi there, love. How are you?”

Just hearing his voice is enough to calm you and stop the spiral.

“Hi,” you reply. “I’m good. I got the package you sent. Thank you for everything.”

“Of course. I hope it helps.”

“I uhm, I’m trying to build a nest.”

“That’s wonderful!” He sincerely replies.

“Emphasis on trying,” you say. He’s quiet for a moment, giving you time to explain further. “I’ve got the base, but I’m stuck now. I have no clue where to put everything else. And I feel like a lousy omega because I should just know how to do it, right?”

“Not at all, sweetheart. First of all, you could never be a lousy omega. But there might be a bit of a disconnect between you and your inner omega. You’ve been on suppressants for years, basically since you presented. Your instincts will come. You just need to be patient with yourself.”

You take in every word he says and a weight lifts off your shoulders.

“How do you always know what you say?” You ask with a laugh.

He laughs with you for a moment before his chuckles turn into coughs.

“You alright?” You ask.

“Yea, I’m good, just a little tickle or something,” he answers, voice slightly raspier than usual. “Listen, I have to go get ready for the show soon. I ordered you some food, it should get to your apartment in a little while. Take a break, relax, eat some dinner, and try again. Don’t overthink it, just start and see where it takes you, alright?”

“Okay. Break a leg tonight,” you reply.

“Thank you darling. Talk to you soon,” he says as he ends the call.

You take a quick shower while waiting for the food to arrive. This isn't the first time Harry’s sent you a meal. It’s his way of taking care of you even from across the country. The doorbell rings and you’re not surprised to see that he ordered your favorite Italian dish, reminding you how much he truly listens, and somehow seems to know what you’re craving before you do.

You do as he says and relax during dinner, watching an episode of your favorite comfort show. After you’re finished you decide to try again. You put on Harry's first album and grab one of the bags from the box. The note says it has two shirts, a sweater, and a scarf, all with Harry scent. You open it and his scent surrounds you. The task at hand no longer seems daunting, but rather exciting.

Over the next hour you construct a perfect nest, at least in your opinion. You’ve used materials from two bags of Harry’s and one of Sarah’s, as well as scenting a few materials of your own. The combination of smells is wonderful, absolutely soothing to your omega.

Possibly your favorite thing Harry sent is a new stuffed bunny, referencing the fact that you’ve compared him to a bunny rabbit on multiple occasions.

You’re cuddled in the best, new bunny in your arms, and you pull up your phone. It’s later than you thought, and Harry’s show will be starting soon. Lately you haven’t been able to watch many of his concerts due to the time change. But you decide to stay up late tonight and start a little bit later than usual tomorrow, fully taking advantage of the freedom you have for your job.

Everything starts normally but you notice a change in Harry’s demeanor about halfway through. His voice starts getting raspier, he’s turning his head to cough and clear his throat more often than usual, and he generally just seems a bit off.

That coughing earlier was definitely not just a simple little tickle.

You give him thirty minutes after the show ends to get home and shower before you FaceTime him. He answers immediately and says, “What are you still doing awake?” His voice sounds even worse than before.

“I was watching your show,” you answer.

“So you saw how shit I was?”

This is what you were afraid of. This is why you stayed up even later to talk to him. Because you knew he’d be beating himself up even though he’d obviously pushed through pain to give the very best concert he could.

“Harry, no, you absolutely were not shit. I won’t lie, you sounded a little croaky when you spoke, but the songs sounded perfect. You still put on an excellent show. How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m upset for starters. But physically I kind of feel like garbage. My throat burns, my body’s aching, and I’m exhausted.”

“You need to rest, Harry. Give yourself time to get better.”

“I know that you’re right, but it’s hard. There’s always something that needs to be done,” he says with a sad, small voice that nearly breaks your heart.

“It’s not healthy to push yourself too hard. You need a break or it’s only going to get worse.” Your voice is laced with concern, as you practically plead with him to take care of himself. You’ve gotten to know him well over the past few weeks and you’re fully aware of his tendency to overwork himself, and his habit of putting everything before himself and his health. He’s explained that it’s a holdover from his early experience in the music industry and how hard management pushed him and the other boys when they first started. Since then, it’s been hard to change his mentality on the issue.

He nods without saying anything, and you take it as a win; albeit a small one. At least he’s willing to agree that he needs to take it easy. You can only hope that he actually will.

“Where are you?” he suddenly asks. “I don’t recognize your background.”

You smile and blush before replying, “I’m in my nest.”

“You are? It worked? How to do feel?” There’s a definite change in his attitude now, excitement rather than despair.

“It worked. Thank you again for the materials and the help earlier. I feel,” you pause for a moment to think before saying, “content. And safe.”

“I’m so happy to hear that. Truly just made me feel better knowing I could help you in some way.”

“I wish I could do the same for you.”

“You do. You help me. By calling, and talking me down from a spiral. And looking so cozy in your lovely nest.” Your cheeks warm again at the alpha complimenting the nest you worked so hard on. You feel proud to have made something that he approves of, especially with no prior experience. Suddenly thoughts of nests you can make for the two of you, maybe one day pups as well, force their way into your mind.

“I’m glad I could make you feel better,” is all you say in reply.

Your eyes meet for a moment, just simply taking each other in, before Harry finally says, “It’s pretty late here, and I know it is way past your bedtime. Get some sleep darling.”

“I will. Please, take it easy tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, love,” he replies with a soft smile.

“Good night Harry.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You roll over, nose facing the wall of the nest, where Harry’s scent is strongest and you’re able to pick up on a hint of Sarah’s as well. Even though you’re worried about Harry, your surroundings have you calm enough to quickly fall asleep.

The next few days are difficult. Harry gets diagnosed with the flu and seems to just be getting sicker. He does everything he can to get better, but unfortunately ends up needing to postpone three shows while he continues to rest and get back to performance shape.

He’s upset and frustrated about the situation, and you spend much of those days texting and talking on Facetime to reassure him that no one is mad at him. While you agree that they might be a bit disappointed, you remind him that his true fans care about him and wouldn’t want him to push himself too far.

One week of rest does him a world of good. It’s obvious at his next show, exactly seven days later, that he has made a full recovery. You stay up again to watch the very beginning of the concert and fall into a peaceful sleep knowing that Harry is back in full health and back to doing what he loves.

Another week after that Harry’s finished his US residencies and it’s finally time for your doctor’s appointment.

As much as you’ve been looking forward to being seen and having your problem fixed, you’re incredibly nervous going in. You hadn’t been able to speak to Harry that morning as he was traveling and you’re more anxious than you expected to be.

Your doctor is a lovely beta woman who doesn’t bat an eye when you lay your sweatshirt next to you on the bed during the exam. You’d pulled it out of one of the bags that morning specifically to have Harry’s scent with you, and since you had to change into a patient gown this is the next best option. It works in keeping you calm as she goes through the rather invasive checkup.

After the physical exam is over she leaves so you can change before discussing what she found. Once you’re dressed the nurse leads you to her office and you sit across from her at the desk.

“First of all,” she begins. “I want to assure you that you’re perfectly healthy.” You breathe a sigh of relief at that, not even realizing that you’d been at least a little concerned that something was wrong.

“It seems we were right in assuming that you’ve developed a tolerance to your medication regimen. You were on a fairly high dosage so unfortunately it won’t be as simple as switching to different meds. You’d likely start having these same problems within just a year or possibly a couple of months.”

You listen closely, hanging on to every word even though you’re worried about where this is headed.

“What I would like to have you do,” she continues, “Is go completely off the medications for six months. This will allow your body to basically reset. I won’t lie, it will be tough for a while, especially if you don’t have an alpha, but it will ensure that the meds will be completely effective for years to come once you start back up.”

“I’ve never been unmedicated before,” you quickly say, trying to communicate how unsure you feel about what she is saying.

“Why don’t I tell you what you can expect during this time?” She asks and you nod, wanting as much information as possible.

“If you don’t have an alpha, then you’ll likely experience touch deprivation. It may be a little worse than what you’ve reported feeling recently, but I promise it will not be debilitating. It takes over a year for those symptoms to become severe. Nesting with objects that have been scented by an alpha will help with that. There are a couple of programs that can provide you with those materials if needed. I can give you the contact information.”

“No, thank you. I have a couple of alphas who have given me things. I’m sure they’ll be able to re-scent them for me if I ask,” you reply.

“Okay, wonderful. I’m glad you have some trusted alphas to help you. I urge you to accept help from them during this. It will make everything much easier for you and your inner omega. Now I know you like to hide your scent in public, which I completely understand given the way people tend to treat omegas. While you can’t take the oral scent blockers, the spray on kind is fine in moderation. I don’t recommend constant use though. And of course, being scented by an alpha is not only approved, but recommended.”

You smile slightly at this, thinking Harry would probably be happy with an excuse to scent you whenever possible.

“The last thing we need to discuss is heats. I have here that you’ve only experience two partial heats, correct?”

“Yes. My presentation heat, which lasted about a day, and then a two day heat a few months later before we landed on the right suppressant dosage.”

“Okay, you should experience two heats while off the medications. The first will be in about three months and will be similar to that last one you had. Shouldn’t last more than forty-eight hours and won’t be too intense. The second one should occur three months after that. This will be your first true heat and will last anywhere from four to seven days. It will also be more intense. I’ll give you some literature to read up on and some good sources to do research so that you can be prepared. After that second heat we’ll begin working out your new medicine regimen. Do you have any questions?”

Yea, you think to yourself, I have about a million questions. But no complete thoughts actually form in your brain, so you just reply, “No, I think I got everything.”

“Well, if anything does come up please reach out. I recommend email unless it’s something urgent since I have some time each day to sit and give a detailed reply, okay?”

“Got it.”

“Since you’ve already taken your meds today I’ll list tomorrow as the first day without them. You may start to feel a bit different within the next week.”

“Okay. Thank you so much,” you say as you both stand. She walks you out of the office and you part ways as she says, “Take care.”

You sit in your car for a moment as your mind spins with all the information you just received. When you finally feel focused enough to drive you wonder where to go next. You’d blocked the day off for this, knowing you probably would be too distracted to work at all after the appointment.

For a minute you debate stopping for a coffee on the way home. Getting a little treat after something unpleasant is like, a core part of girlhood.

But when you pull out of the parking lot you immediately start driving home. Because you know what you need right now, and it’s not a mocha latte.

Walking through your front door you quickly change into comfy clothes and curl up in your nest. This is exactly what your omega needs after the stressful morning. Nothing can beat being surrounded by the alpha’s wonderful scent.

Well, nothing except actually being with the alpha.

But that’s currently impossible. He’s traveling, probably almost in Mexico by now.

Right?

He’s going to Mexico. That’s what you keep telling yourself. It’s what you say when there’s a surprise knock on the door. It’s what you repeat when you open the door and see none other than Harry Styles standing in your apartment hallway.

He’s going to Mexico. Except he’s very much standing in front of you, flowers in one hand, a tray of drinks in the other, and a small suitcase next to him.

“Hi,” he says sweetly, dimples making an appearance as he smiles at you.

“Hi,” you answer just as quietly, still in disbelief of what you’re seeing.

You step back, silently inviting him in. He places the drinks and flowers on the table in your entryway so he can roll his suitcase in, shutting the door behind him.

The two of you stand there for a moment just taking each other in. Slowly, Harry leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. He pulls back just an inch and there’s a moment of tension between you.

The moment doesn’t last long. You don’t know who moves first, but your lips quickly crash together in a kiss more heated than any you’ve shared before. His hands grip your waist, and you bite back a whine at the feeling of how big they are on your body. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, one resting on the back of his neck while the other slides through his hair.

You begin to walk backwards into the living room, never breaking contact. Harry sits on your couch, and you follow to straddle him, kneeling over him so your legs bracket either side of his. The kiss gets more intense, and this time you can’t hide the noise of pleasure when his tongue just barely passes between your lips.

After a few minutes of what is by far the best make out of your life, his hands move to your thighs. They slide up further and you become overwhelmed, pulling back from the kiss in response.

He doesn’t ask what’s wrong, doesn’t question what happened or if you’re okay. He knows why you stopped. He can read that you’ve gone as far as you’re comfortable with at this point. He smiles, presses one more chaste kiss to your lips, and then readjusts you so you’re sitting next to him, legs resting over his lap. He pulls you in, so you’re tucked against his side, and you stay like that for a few minutes, just enjoying being close together.

“So, how did the appointment go today?” he finally asks.

Before you can answer your stomach starts to growl loudly, causing you both to laugh.

“Hold that thought,” he says, “let’s get some lunch first huh?”

“Sounds like a good plan. I can make some for us,” you say, and immediately head to the kitchen.

Harry uses the restroom while you prepare some sandwiches and fruit salad. It gives you a moment to process everything that happened that morning. You also think about how you’ll answer Harry’s last question. You decide to tell him the truth, tell him everything. He’s proved how deeply he cares about you, and honestly at this point you can’t imagine keeping anything from him.

So over lunch, you explain everything your doctor said. You tell him about the touch deprivation, and he reassures you that he’ll make sure you always have freshly scented materials to wear and put in your nest. You even tell him about the upcoming heats, though not without blushing the whole time.

“Is there anything I can do to help with that? Would you want me to be with you through it?” You’re endeared by the fact that his blush matches yours now.

You think about his offer for a moment and reply, “I don’t think so. At least not the first one. I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. And, uhm,” you pause for a moment before admitting something. You’re scared to tell him, but you’ve already talked about enough embarrassing things today with him and your doctor, so one more can’t hurt. “I’ve never been knotted before. And though I want to someday, I want it to be right. And I want it to be when I’ll remember it, not while I’m under the haze of a heat. When we’ll both remember it.” You’re nervous at the end, including him the way you did, like you’re assuming he wants that too.

“I completely understand. There will be a time when we’re ready. And it will be perfect,” you share another shy smile, reassured that he included himself without any hesitation. He wants this, and he wants this with you. He sees a future to your relationship, just like you do.

“Now,” he continues, “when it comes to helping with the touch deprivation and you requiring scenting, I think we should choose some dates when we can be together. It’s not healthy for you if we’re apart for long periods of time. And honestly, I don’t want to go months without seeing you.”

“Me neither,” you reply.

“Do you want to pull out our calendars now, or forget about all this for the afternoon and just spend the day together and make some plans over the phone after I leave tomorrow?”

“Make plans later. Definitely. I want to enjoy the day with you.”

And so, the two of you have a lazy afternoon in. It had started to rain while you ate lunch, which gives you the perfect excuse to turn on the fireplace and lounge in the living room. You watch movies, play some games, and get lost listening to each other tell stories. Harry orders in dinner, Thai this time, and you each take your own showers before getting ready for bed.

Harry hasn’t been in your room yet, and you hesitate before opening the door to let you both in. He’s seen your nest over Facetime, but this is different, and suddenly you’re hit with the overwhelming need for him to approve of it. You don’t know what you’ll do if the alpha doesn’t like it.

Of course, your fear is for nothing. Because the second you bring Harry to the side of your bed and show him what you made, he immediately showers you in compliments. He tells you how perfect it is, how cozy it looks.

“Would you like to lay in it with me? I know it’s kind of small, so I understand if-” he cuts you off before you can complete your sentence and says, “I would be honored to be in your nest with you.”

He looks to you for guidance, needing to know exactly where you want him. He knows how important nests are to omegas, and the last thing he wants is to mess it up in any way. You instruct him where to lay down and he does so without pause. He holds his arms out and you quickly go to him.

It’s no surprise when you begin to purr. Wrapped in his arms, in your nest, surrounded by his scent, you think you may have entered heaven.

No one speaks for a while, and you start to think maybe Harry’s fallen asleep. That is until you hear him clear his throat. You look to him, knowing he wants to say something, and he takes a deep breath.

“I have a question for you. And I know it may be too soon, but it seems silly to delay when we obviously have a connection. We’re old enough now to know what we want. And what I want is you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, or at least not yet, but I couldn’t leave without asking. Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

“Harry, I would absolutely love to.”

He holds you closer in response pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling back and seeing the huge smile on your face.

“There’s just one more question,” he says. He seems even more nervous about this one, but you remain calm, even releasing some calming pheromones of your own.

You can tell he senses them as he relaxes and says, “Would you also do me the honor of being my omega?”

This question is even more unexpected than the last. He’s right in saying that it’s very early to ask, but at the same time, it’s not too early at all. Because there’s an undeniable connection between the two of you, not just as people, but as alpha and omega. It would be silly not to make it official.

Happy tears fill your eyes, and you nod yes in answer to his question. His eyes are similarly watery, and he leans down to press a kiss over your mating spot, a promise of what’s to come in the future, and you snuggle impossibly closer to him. To Harry. Your boyfriend. And your alpha.

You sleep soundly through the night, waking only when you realize Harry isn’t beside you. The spot is still warm, so he hasn’t been gone long. It’s early, a little before 7 a.m., and you hear Harry getting ready in the bathroom. He’ll be leaving soon. He mentioned a car would be picking him up to take him to the airport first thing in the morning.

Before you can get up he crouches down, running a hand over your hair. He’s ready to go, but he lays down next to you, soaking up every last second before he absolutely needs to leave. He scents you, does it so strongly that he’s practically scent marked the room, and you’re grateful for that. Since you’ll be stopping your medications today, having a space filled with his smell will help ease you through the transition.

Too quickly, his phone rings with a message that his ride is waiting outside.

He leans down to kiss you and say, “Everything is going to be alright. We’ll work it out, and I’m with you the whole way. Goodbye, my omega.”

You preen at the title and press another kiss to his lips before replying, “Thank you, alpha. Be safe.”

“I will, I promise,” he says. With one final press of his lips on your forehead, he drags himself out of the comfort of your nest and then out of your apartment.

It’s quiet without him, but you reflect on his parting words. You believe them wholeheartedly. It’s going to be difficult, but he’ll be there to help.

With the reassurance that you’re not alone, and Harry’s delicious scent filling the room, you slip back to sleep, feeling nervous but hopeful about what’s to come.  

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you all liked it as well!

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[karespocketboyfriends]

𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍

Chapter Six

A Love and Deepspace Fanfiction (Sylus X OC)

Warnings -> None needed

<- Chapter Five

An original fan-fiction for Love and Deepspace. I appreciate reblogs but reposting to Tumblr or any other site is not okay with me.

April, 2047

January’s frost bleeds into April’s showers, but the N109 Zone remains the same year round. No sun means no blooming flowers, no flowers means no butterflies, no trees means no returning birds. It's easy to forget that life once bloomed in this place, that this city used to be just like any other. Until the Chronoshift Catastrophe that turned the world on it's head thirteen years ago. The N109 Zone, that was once known to be a bustling hub of technology, was unable to recover from the disaster.

Still, letting spring arrive without a proper welcome is unacceptable.

"Evie." A deep, baritone voice halts my hands. "Why is there paper littering my base?"

I turn towards the man standing in my cozy little office, the string of brightly coloured paper flowers in my hands going slack as I lower my arms. "It’s not litter, Sir. They're decorations."

"Decorations." He repeats, raising a brow as he looks around my office. Of all the rooms in the base, this one has fallen the most victim to my sudden whim. The shelves, my desk, the only thing that’s been spared is the electric fireplace for safety reasons. "And where did you find the children to make these... decorations?"

My shoulders drop, followed by my heart sinking a little. "I made them."

I’m perfectly aware that my capabilities when it comes to arts and crafts match those of a preschooler, but I don’t think they look that bad.

Sylus clears his throat. "I see. Your style is very... distinctive.”

With a snort and a roll of my eyes, I turn back to the wall and resume taping up the flowers. “The plan was to only put them up in here, but Luke and Kieran suggested putting them everywhere else, too. I think it’s their attempt at another prank.”

Sylus hums, a smirk playing on his lips as he taps his temple with his index finger. “So, you’ve gotten comfortable enough to assist those two in their troublemaking. I suppose that means you won’t have any reservations about coming with me today?”

I turn to face him again. At least this time, I managed to get the flowers on the wall. “You want me to accompany you this time, Sir?”

Since starting this job, I have yet to leave the base. I’ve settled into a comfortable routine over the short course of these past few months, things like answering emails and phone calls, scheduling meetings and deals, managing inventory and the organization’s finances, small things that don’t directly need Sylus’ attention unless proven otherwise. He hasn’t asked or ordered me to go anywhere with him until now, though in hindsight, any normal personal assistant would be expected to be at their boss’ side all hours of the day. Or night, in our case.

I wouldn’t say Sylus and I are close, but we exist comfortably around each other. I go looking for him when his decisions are needed, and he finds me whenever he needs me to do something on his behalf. Our work circles overlap briefly, but for the most part, I work alone. Some nights we don't even see each other, and messages are left on the other's desk as a form of communication. Or a phone call if the matter is urgent.

"If you're comfortable with it." Sylus says with a casual shrug. "Alfonse is something of a mediator this time around. The woman I'm actually doing business with is rather cautious."

I easily pick up on what he's not saying. "And you believe bringing me with you would ease her mind?"

"It's worth a shot." There's a slight shift in the air around him, the slightest tilt from casual conversation to something more serious. "This could turn dangerous."

That is the logical thing to be concerned about, isn't it? I'm perfectly aware of what kind of meetings I schedule, even though I've never sat in on one. No one, neither Onychinus nor the other party, shows up unarmed. Sylus has returned covered in blood time and time again, and not all of it has been his.

Concern for my well-being is not what comes out of my mouth. “It’s not like I don’t get hazard pay. When do you wish to head out, Sir?”

He raises a perfectly arched brow. “You’re agreeing just like that? I thought I was going to have to bribe you.”

I fold my hands behind my back and swallow the playful remark dancing on my tongue. “Sir, if you were planning to drag me along regardless of how I feel about it, you wouldn’t have checked in with me. You would have simply ordered it. That’s all I need to trust that you’ll keep me safe. So, when are we leaving?”

Sylus stares at me for a moment, the look in his eyes that of a troubled soul trying to piece together a complicated puzzle. It’s brief, gone as quickly as it appeared. “Now.”

I throw my spring jacket over my arm, snatch the book I'm currently reading from the corner of my desk, and lock up the office. I follow half a step behind Sylus, the heels of my leather ankle boots echoing in the silent corridor. It's easy for one to assume the base is always empty with how quiet it tends to be around here, but the truth is, there are people everywhere. One just has to know where to look.

I take the time we spend walking to the garage to make myself as presentable as possible. Smoothing out my wine red blouse, fixing the subtle ruffles at the cuff of the sleeves, picking stray hairs of my black slacks. After my first paycheck, I went out and bought several outfits that would be more appropriate for work than the old, casual clothes I had from my poor person days. I particularly love this brand of woman's slacks and bought the same pair in several colors. They're comfortable and professional yet still feminine, with an elastic waist and a faux fly. The button is just for decoration.

It felt good to go out and buy higher end clothing for myself, yet at the same time, I also felt a little guilty about it. I've never spent that much on myself before, and I haven't since.

"You're trying too hard." Sylus suddenly says, throwing a glance over his shoulder. Just in time to catch me using my phone as a mirror while I reapply my dark red lipstick.

I screw the cap back on and tuck the small tube back into the pocket of my jacket. "Well, pardon me for wanting to make sure I don't sour Onychinus' reputation with a poor first impression."

He chuckles. "Sweetie, you wouldn't be able to influence Onychinus' reputation even if you arrived in a Halloween costume."

My retort gets caught in my throat, heart sputtering at the unexpected drop of a nickname. For such a sweet nickname, he used a rather sarcastic tone, but in no way did it feel malicious. It feels more like a playful jab, one that makes me feel... I don't know, closer to him. Chaos is, after all, my love language.

Influenced by this invitation to banter, I open my mouth to do just that, but my words die again when he stops before the garage door and turns to face me. I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze from this close.

"I'll let you in on a little secret." Sylus says, mirth flickering in the depths of his crimson eyes as one corner of his mouth slightly curls. "Your smile is your greatest weapon."

My next exhale comes out sharp, like a quiet gasp. Sylus, not paying it any mind, pushes the garage door open and strolls inside. The garage is more of an indoor parking lot, absolutely massive and full of Onychinus' identical black SUV's. A floor below houses Sylus' personal collection, though I've yet to see it in person. I do know, from managing his accounts, that he owns some very expensive vehicles. Motorcycles, too.

One particular SUV is waiting for us, having already been pulled into the lane and idling with its engine running. Sylus reaches it first, and instead of walking around to the back like I expect him too, he pulls open the passenger door and silently looks at me.

Seeing me hesitate, he smirks again. "Have you changed your mind?"

I shake my head and tell my legs to carry me over. "No, I just assumed Tim drove you to these kinds of things."

Tim, one of Onychinus' many chauffers, has driven me safely every day between work and home since my first night on the clock. He's a kind old man with two young granddaughters he adores, even has a picture of them hanging from the rearview mirror.

"Tim isn't my first choice when it comes to a getaway driver should the need for it arise." Sylus says as I climb into the passenger seat.

But it's what he doesn't say that reaches me, has a smile playing on my lips as he closes the door behind me and starts making his way around the hood of the SUV. To me, it sounds more like Sylus is more concerned about protecting the old man than he is about Tim's driving capabilities.

"I see you." The words fall from my lips in a whisper, barely audible even to myself in the empty interior.

A voice suddenly comes from the back. "See who?"

A scream rips from my throat. I launch forwards, almost smacking into the dashboard as I whip my head around to peer into the backseat. I'm met with four red slits for eyes and two long beaks tipped in red.

"Fuck." I breathe curse, shoulders sagging in relief as I collapse back against the seat. I glare at the twins through the rearview mirror as Sylus settles into the driver's seat, at Kieran who's got his arm resting casually over the top of my seat, and Luke who's waving innocently. "Could you two be any more creepy?"

"Newb alert. Never assume a vehicle is empty when you get in." Luke scolds me in the tone a parent would use to discipline their child. "Boss, are you sure she's ready for this? Maybe we should wait a few more weeks."

Sylus scoffs and adjusts both the position of his seat and the steering wheel. "With you two acting as mother hens, I'm sure she'll be fine."

"She is sitting right here." I twist again to look back at the twins. "What's this about making me wait?"

Kieran tilts his head. "Oh, you didn't know? Ever since you started working for Onychinus, a lot of people you've talked to over the phone have been curious about you. Boss-"

"I thought the deal was that the two of you would be allowed to come along only if you were silent." Sylus glares at them through the mirror, though his glare is admittedly much more terrifying than mine.

The SUV finally starts moving as my gaze bounces from the twins to Sylus and back again. It takes a second to click, but when it does, I can't help but coo at the teenagers. "Aww, did you two ask to come along so you can look out for me? You're such sweethearts."

At the same time, Luke and Kieran groan. Typical teenage boys; they care about you without wanting you to know that they care about you.

The door separating the garage form outside world opens, and Sylus plants his foot on the gas. The SUV speeds onto the street, stealing me away from the safe haven of the base. Whether or not I'm truly ready to face whatever awaits us at the end of the drive, I'll guess I'll find out.

Three minutes ago, we reached the meeting location. It's a rundown warehouse on the outskirts of the city, close to the line that divides the N109 Zone from Linkon City. I can faintly see the millions of lights in the distance, can almost make out the rising buildings through the fog, but I can't appreciate the view right now. Not when my stomach is in my throat and nausea rolls over me in waves every twenty seconds.

"You're maniacs. All of you." I manage to get the words out through deep breaths. My head is resting against the seat's headrest, tilted towards the ceiling, eyes closed as I fight to keep it together. "Who allowed him to drive?"

Luke chuckles and takes my wrist, placing what feels like a plastic water bottle in my palm. "You don't need a license to drive in the N109 Zone, Little V."

Kieran is also hovering by the open passenger door. "If it'll make you feel better, we could drive on the way back?"

Just the thought is enough to make my nausea worse. "No. Absolutely not."

Unscrewing the water bottle's cap, I bring it to my lips and sip it slowly. After a few mouthfuls, I feel better enough to open my eyes. Thankfully, the world isn't spinning anymore.

"If I had known you were going to be carsick, I would have left you behind." Sylus' remark comes from outside, and he doesn't sound very sympathetic.

Eyes narrowing, I lean forward enough to catch sight of his figure and point a finger at him. "Listen here, boss man-" Luke and Kieran start cracking up. "I can ride in cars just fine. It's your driving that's the problem."

Looking unimpressed, he crosses his arms. "I got us here without crashing, didn't I? Why don't you humor me on what you consider a good driver to be?"

"A good driver," I slowly step out of the SUV, and thankfully, my balance is steady. "Drives at a respectable speed even when there's no speed limit."

He only smirks. "That was a respectable speed for the N109 Zone, kitten."

My head cocks back, and suddenly, I'm no longer being pulled apart by car sickness. "Kitten?"

Two nicknames in one day? Are we all going to perish today?

Sylus shrugs. "You're proving yourself to have claws. It's fitting."

"Kitten." I repeat in disbelief. "Not tiger? Jaguar? Nothing of that nature?"

His chuckle sends pleasant shivers down my spine. Damn him and his smooth voice, making everything sound lovely even when it's not meant to be. "You're not scary enough for that." In the blink of an eye, the playful air around him dies. "Let's go."

Sylus takes the lead, myself following a half step behind him while the twins cover our flank. We're met at the door by a trio of men dressed in black, and although there's no obvious sign that they're carrying firearms, I don't let that fool me. I can only imagine how much worse an already tense situation can get when guns are visible.

The men, Alfonse's men I assume, lead us through the warehouse. Despite how rough the exterior looks, it's nice on the inside. The walls are made of red brick, the floor concrete, nothing extravagant but well taken care of. The ceiling lights have been switched to a more modern style, casting circles of light to break up the shadows every couple paces. At the very end of the corridor stands a massive pair of wooden doors in the shape of an arch, two more men standing guard on either side.

Several people occupy the room, but only two sit around a large circular table made of wood. A rustic iron-wrought chandelier hangs above it, but instead of candles, modern day bulbs provide the light. The walls are bare of any decorations, nor are there any potted plants or statues in the corners. It's literally a massive room with a table, chairs, a chandelier and nothing more.

It's probably easier to clean up blood in this setting.

A middle-aged man with tan skin and grey hairs speckling his short brown beard rises from his seat. "Welcome, Mr. Sylus and- My, who is this?"

"Your smile is your greatest weapon."

Sylus' words echo in my head. Without having to try too hard, I put on my sunniest smile. It helps that I recognize this man's voice. "It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Alfonse. You look as wise as you sound over the phone."

Recognition shines in his eyes. "Ah, so this is the lovely Miss. Evie I've been so curious about. Shame on you, Sylus, for keeping such a beauty locked away."

Sylus smirks. "She's very efficient at her job. Forgive me for not wanting to pull her away sooner."

With a lighthearted chuckle, Alfonse turns to address the woman still seated at the table. She's gorgeous and curvy, curly blonde hair falling like a veil around her heart shaped face. She's dressed in a lavish brown suit that screams grace and power, the kind that leaves no room for question about whether or not she's capable of playing in the big leagues. "Mr. Sylus, allow me to introduce you to Miss. Natalia. Her business has been rapidly rising in the ranks when it comes to finding lost things that have been forgotten."

I did my research when I scheduled the meeting. Natalia's parents own a museum overseas, while Natalia herself manages a team of archeologists who travel the world and search for fossils, relics, anything of human history that's been buried in the sand. She's well respected in her field, and certainly not the kind of person you would expect to be making business talks with Onychinus.

"Mr. Sylus, a pleasure." Natalia's accent is smooth and soft. Her eyes drift to me for a moment, but that's as far as her acknowledgment goes. "Shall we begin?"

"Straight to the chase? I can respect that." Sylus says, pulling out one of the cushioned chairs.

"I'm a busy woman."

I expect Sylus to sit, but instead, he places a hand on my lower back and nudges me towards the chair. Cheeks warming a little, I whisper my thanks and sit down. He takes the empty chair next to mine. Luke and Kieran remain behind us but against the wall, just like Alfonse and Natalia's bodyguards do.

Alfonse is the last to sit, but the first to get the meeting going. "Now, then, let's talk. Miss. Natalia has reached out to Onychinus searching for aid in transporting a rare relic her team has uncovered. In turn, Mr. Sylus requested a meeting to negotiate the benefits of his participation. Miss. Natalia, would you like to begin?"

The cool, middle of the night air lifts an invisible weight from my shoulders as our little team finally leaves the warehouse. "Congratulations on another successful business venture, Sir. I hope you will be as kind to the archeology world as it will be to you."

After an hour and a half of negotiations, the deal was finally settled. Onychinus will help Natalia's team transport the relic they found safely and secretly, but for the next several years, Onychinus will have first claim to anything they dig up. It was a big demand, one I was sure Natalia would turn down. She did push back against the idea, but when Sylus didn't budge, she relented. Whatever it is her team found, she's desperate to have it protected.

I quicken my stride to catch up with Sylus. He's not that far ahead of me, but I want to see his face when I ask my question. "Of all the things to demand in return for your help, why do you want first claim of the artifacts?"

I could see someone wanting to take something so valuable and sell it on the black market, but Sylus is already filthy rich. I've worked for him long enough now to know that he isn't money hungry, so what's his motive here?

Sylus glances at me. "I don't."

Confused, I blink at him. "Huh?

Luke and Kieran leave us to check the SUV over for any signs of it being tampered with. When they give the clear, Sylus opens the passenger door and waits for me to get settled before taking the driver's side again.

He only continues the conversation when we're back on the road. This time, I notice, we're not racing as fast. "I could care less about what that woman's team pulls from the dirt. I was after power, and I got it."

"Power?" I think about it, really think about it. If the artifacts really mean nothing to him like he claims, then what power does he have in- "You wanted the power to take something, and her not being able to do anything about it."

Sylus spares me another glance. "There's more than one way to have power, kitten. Consider this today's lesson."

"Your smile is your greatest weapon."

Your smile is your greatest power.

My heart rams against my ribs like a jackhammer.

The SUV comes to an unexpected stop on the side of the road. I turn my head to look out the window. "This is a bar. Are we here for celebratory drinks, Sir?"

"If that's how you wish to see it." Sylus closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm developing a headache from all that back and forth."

I really don't think alcohol is the best fix for that, but I could be wrong. Sylus exists the SUV first, and I throw a look back at the twins, but they're engrossed in some mobile game on their phones. I decide to leave them be and slip out without a word.

The bar is a tiny, hole in the wall establishment that can hold maybe twenty people at a time. Sylus and I bring the current number of customers to seven. The interior is vintage, designed like something out of an old-school movie, but incredibly charming.

Sylus leads me to the bar, and with a hand on the small of my back, helps me onto a stool. "You're more of a gentleman than I've pegged you for."

He raises a brow as he slides into the stool next to mine. "Don't you read all those romance books about powerful men doting on a woman? Why is it so hard to believe that's only possible in fiction?"

"I'm not even going to ask how you've figured out what I read." I really hope he hasn't figured out how spicy those books can get.

The bartender walks over to us then. "Have you decided?"

"Bourbon." Is Sylus' request.

"Do you do cocktails?" I ask, to which the bartender nods. "I'll take a sex on the beach."

Sylus coughs, and now it's my turn to raise a brow. "What? It’s good. The drink, I mean. I've never had sex on a beach."

Shut up, Evie.

It might be a trick of the dim lighting, but I could swear Sylus' hand, which was curled in a relaxed fist, gets tighter. "You... Never mind."

Oh my god, is that pink I see dusting his cheeks? "Sir, are you flustered?"

Again, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I should have left you in the car."

Giggling, I tilt my head innocently. "Do you regret hiring me yet?"

The bartender returns with our drinks, saving my boss from potentially more teasing. The first sip of my cocktail causes a blissful explosion of peach, orange and cranberry on my tongue, the almost smoothie-like texture pleasant against the roof of my mouth.

I notice Sylus watching me, the amber liquid in his glass moving as he swirls the drink. "What is it?"

He's silent for another minute. "Your home life. Has it improved since you started working for me?"

It's an unexpected question, much so that it catches me off guard. "It's getting there. My brothers still don't know the full extent of what I do, so I've been slowly adding to the family account. We're set to move in to a new apartment soon, though."

I'm such a hypocrite. Drew, Mateo and I are back on good terms, but just a few months ago I was lecturing them on keeping such big secrets that affected the entire family. Now, I'm the one withholding information. As far as my brothers are concerned, I'm an overnight nanny for a wealthy business man. The paychecks I get from Onychinus are way too large to fit that narrative, so I've been depositing them into my own account and adding smaller amounts to the family one each payday. Enough to keep us from having to worry about bills and groceries, but not enough for them to realize I could have afforded us a new apartment on my first pay.

I don't want to lie to my brothers, but I don't want them to get dragged into a mess, either. Sometimes, the less you know, the safer you are. It's how I lived before meeting Sylus, and it worked.

I'll tell them one day. I have to. I just... don't know how.

"I didn't realize you were worried about that." I say before taking another sip of my cocktail.

"You were desperate enough to put yourself in danger. I just want to make sure that's no longer the case."

"It's not, but thank you for asking." I smile around the straw. "And you called Luke and Kieran mother hens. I'm starting to think you're the biggest worrywart of all, Sir."

Sylus finishes the rest of his bourbon in one go. "The only thing I'm worried about coming home one day to find my base in shambles because of you and those two menaces."

A snort comes out of me before a giggle does. "I'll make sure it at least looks pretty, Sir."

Sylus doesn't rush me to finish my cocktail. We return to the base, I finish the rest of the night's work, and head home for the morning.

And the next night, when I enter my office, I find a fresh bouquet of white and yellow daffodils sitting in an intricate vase on my desk.

Masterlist

Chapter Seven ->

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[radiant-reid]

hi cate!! could i please have a blurb (or even your thoughts) on domestic spencer? thank you!!

You love Saturdays the most.

Of course, working at the BAU is exciting and purposeful, and you love your job, but weekends mean you can sleep in and spend happy time with Spencer.

Spencer pulls you back into his arms as soon as he knows you're awake, and you lay on his chest as he plays with your hair and whispers softly to you.

"Spence?" You ask when he pauses in between topics.

"Mm?" He encourages you to continue.

"I think you should get coffee." You say with a grin. It's always a debate on mornings when you don't have anywhere to be. On weekdays there's a schedule, Spencer makes the coffee while you shower, but on weekends there's no pattern.

He chuckles, chest rising beneath you. "Oh, you think that, huh?" He teases.

"Well, you'd like it too." You try to convince him. "And it would make me happy, so win-win." He's easily convinced already, but you drive it home with one last tactic. "Please." You pout up at him.

"Alright, alright." Spencer agrees, gently shifting you off him. "Just lay there looking pretty while I'm slaving away making you coffee."

You smirk, watching him get out of bed and walk down the hallway. "Love you!" You shout, and you can't see it, but you can imagine his smile.

He's back a few minutes later, two cups of coffee in hand, and you turn over from your stomach to sit against the headboard and gratefully take your cup.

"Thank you, my wonderful husband." You give him your best grin.

"You're very welcome." He replies, sneaking a kiss before sipping his coffee. "What's the plan for today? Looking in the fridge, we need to get groceries."

You nod. Working at the BAU means getting called out across the country for unknown amounts of time 24/7, so you only get enough groceries for your next meal.

"Also we need to get a present for Henry, go to the pharmacy." You list. "And I need a new dress."

"I'll happily help you pick." Spencer eagerly agrees. He's never been one for the mall or clothing shopping, but he loves helping you. He'll hold your bags, find different sizes, and recommend styles he'll think you like. "Can we go later? Have a morning in?"

"Absolutely." You agree. It's warm and cozy in bed and you'd rather not break up your bubble of tranquility before it's necessary. "There's no rush on Saturdays."