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Nothing Left (Roman Reigns)
The tale of a marriage built on trust, torn apart by lies, and a woman’s breaking point that should never have been reached.
Pairing: Roman Reigns/Black fem OC
Warnings: Angst, dark themes, graphic content ahead
Word Count: 3.8k
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The air in the mansion was different now. Thick, suffocating—like grief had taken up residence in the walls and refused to leave. I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the cold cup of coffee Roman had poured for me this morning before he left for his latest “business meeting”. The smell of hazelnut creamer was sickly sweet, and I pushed it away as bile rose in my throat.
He was with her again. He didn’t say it outright, but he didn’t have to. My husband had a way of leaving breadcrumbs too obvious to ignore yet always denied when confronted. The gym bag packed with his best Jordans, the cologne he reserved for date nights, the freshly lined-up beard that hadn’t been between my legs in months…Roman wasn’t as subtle as he thought. But every time I brought it up, every time I asked for the truth, his voice would drop low, dangerously calm, like I was the one losing my mind.
“Why you always tryna start some shit, huh?” he’d said just last week, his jaw tightening as he leaned against the doorframe of our bedroom. “You think I don’t have enough pressure on me already? You don’t trust me? After all these years?”
The years. Ten years of marriage. A decade of giving everything I had—my time, my heart, my future. Waiting for him to prioritize me, to want what I wanted, to see me the way I saw him. Years of walking on eggshells, smoothing over cracks in a foundation I thought was unshakable. Ten years of loyalty, of devotion, of standing by his side while he chased dreams we once shared.
And what did I get in return? A hollowed-out shell of a man who wasn’t mine anymore. Maybe he never was. Maybe I was fooling myself all along, believing I could be enough for someone who was never content with what he had.
But nothing could’ve prepared me for the audacity of her. The way she waltzed into my life with her smug smile and flawless facade, acting like she belonged. Like she’d earned a place in the world I built. As if she wasn’t trying to steal my husband, my dreams, and my future right out from under me.
-----------------------
Her name was Brooke Harper. Twenty-four. A fitness influencer with a perfectly curated Instagram full of green smoothies, waist-high leggings, and glistening abs. The kind of woman whose body Roman would study in silent appreciation while scrolling late at night when he thought I wasn’t looking.
She wasn’t just his mistress—she was an opportunist. Brooke’s social media following had skyrocketed since her ‘rumored’ relationship with Roman became gossip fodder. Instagram stories showing glimpses of a luxury car, TikTok videos featuring expensive hotel rooms with cryptic captions, and a YouTube vlog about “staying humble” while wearing designer athleisure—her accounts crawling with thirsty followers dissecting every clue and propositioning her all at once.
I knew what this really was to her. Roman wasn’t just a man; he was a brand, a ladder, and she was climbing every rung with her perfectly manicured nails.
I ran into her—literally—three days ago at the grocery store. She stood there in the produce aisle, recording herself examining avocados while my hands shook around the cart. She looked up and smiled at me, her hazel eyes gleaming with recognition.
“Hey,” she said casually, like we were old friends.
I froze, my chest tightening. Her brown skin was luminous, her hair slicked back into a tight, high ponytail that made her cheekbones look like they’d been sculpted by Michelangelo himself. She was wearing a crop top and booty shorts, her stomach flat, the muscles rippling with every slight movement.
“You’re Roman’s wife, right?”
Her tone was light, but there was something underneath it. Amusement. Condescension. She looked at me like she already knew how the story would end.
“And you are?” I managed to get out, though my voice wavered.
“Brooke,” she said, extending a hand that I didn’t take. She noticed. “But I’m guessing you already knew that.”
The smirk on her lips sent a sharp, searing pain through my chest. She was enjoying this. Reveling in it.
“You know,” she said, her voice dripping with mock sincerity, “he talks about you sometimes. Says you’re a great cook. That lasagna you make? Chef’s kiss.” She leaned in a little closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. “But maybe leave the lingerie for someone else, yeah? He’s not into the lace.”
My breath hitched, but I refused to let her see me break. Not here. Not in the middle of the damn grocery store. Without a word, I turned my cart around and walked away, the wheels squeaking loudly on the linoleum floor. Her laughter followed me all the way to the parking lot.
-----------------------
Two weeks later
I told myself I wouldn’t go. I had no reason to be at the arena tonight, no reason to throw myself into Roman’s world when he’d made it painfully clear I no longer fit in it.
But something tugged at me—a gnawing, insistent feeling in my gut that I couldn’t ignore. Maybe it was intuition. Maybe it was desperation. Whatever it was, it drove me to get in my Bentley and make the forty-five-minute drive to the arena.
When I arrived, the backstage area was buzzing with the usual chaos. Crew members ran back and forth, wrestlers joked and stretched, and the faint hum of the crowd echoed through the walls. I tried to keep my head down, to avoid the sympathetic looks from the few staff members and wrestlers who likely knew more about my crumbling marriage than I did.
I passed Jimmy and Jey in the hallway. The twins had always been like brothers to me. When Roman and I started dating in college, they welcomed me into the family with open arms. We were inseparable. Until now.
“Hey, uh, what’re you doing here, sis?” Jimmy asked, stepping in front of me with a strained smile.
“Just wanted to see my husband,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Now’s not a great time,” Jey chimed in, shifting uncomfortably. “He’s, uh, real busy tonight. Big match, ya know?”
“I know his schedule better than anyone,” I snapped, narrowing my eyes at them. “So stop lying to me, too. Don't do that. Not you two.”
They exchanged a quick glance, a silent conversation passing between them. It only confirmed what I already suspected—they were hiding something.
“Look, sis,” Jimmy said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe you should just head home, yeah? Roman is—”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I interrupted, pushing past them before they could stop me.
Their protests faded behind me as I stormed down the hall toward Roman’s locker room. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of anger, fear, and dread swirling inside me.
When I reached the door, I didn’t hesitate. I pushed it open without knocking, and the sight that greeted me made my stomach drop.
Brooke was there.
She sat perched on the couch, her long legs crossed, wearing a short, flowy minidress that still showed off her assets. Her perfectly styled hair fell over one shoulder, and her glossy lips curled into a smug smile when she saw me.
Roman was leaning against the locker next to her, arms crossed, his face unreadable. If he was surprised to see me, he didn’t show it.
“What the fuck is this?” I demanded, my voice shaking as I stepped into the room.
“Hey, girl,” Brooke said, her tone casual, almost amused. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I’m not talking to you,” I snapped, not bothering to look at her as my eyes locked on my husband. “What is she doing here?”
Roman sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not what you think.”
“Really? Because it looks exactly like what I think,” I shot back, my voice rising. “I knew you were lying to me, Roman, but to bring her here? To your locker room?”
“Calm down,” he said, his tone infuriatingly calm. “You’re overreacting.”
“Overreacting?” I repeated, incredulous. “I walked in on you and your mistress, and I’m the one overreacting?”
“Okay, first of all, let’s not use words like ‘mistress,’” Brooke interjected, her voice dripping with mock indignation. “That’s such an outdated term.”
My head finally snapped toward her, my eyes blazing. “Okay then, how ‘bout ‘side bitch’?” I snarled, “Shut the fuck up, little girl, and stay in your place!”
“Why? Because you can’t handle the truth?” she retorted, smirking as she leaned back against the couch. “Sweetie, you’ve been in denial for months. Maybe it’s time you faced facts.”
My hands clenched into fists. I was seconds away from exploding. “Get out,” I hissed, pointing to the door. “Get out before I beat your ass so bad you’ll never be able to show your face anywhere ever again!”
Brooke didn’t move. Instead, she looked at Roman, arching an eyebrow. “You gonna let her talk to me like that, babe?”
Babe. The word sent a wave of nausea crashing over me.
Roman straightened, his jaw tightening. “Brooke, maybe you should go.”
Her eyes widened in mock surprise. “Oh, so now I’m the bad guy? Fine.” She stood, grabbing her small Gucci shoulder bag, similar to the one Roman bought me on my last birthday, and sauntered toward the door. When she reached me, she paused, leaning in close enough that I could smell her sickly sweet perfume.
“Good luck, sweetheart,” she whispered, her voice full of venom. “You’re gonna need it.”
She left, the sound of her heels clicking against the tile echoing in the silence.
I turned back to Roman, my hands shaking with fury. “How could you do this to me?”
“You don’t understand,” he said, already sounding irritated, like I interrupted something important.
“Then explain it to me!” I shouted, my voice breaking. “Explain how you can throw away ten years for that bitch! Do you even care about me anymore?”
“Of course I care,” he snapped. “But this…you…you’re suffocating me.”
“Suffocating you?” I repeated, my voice barely a whisper. “I gave up everything for you, Roman! My dreams to become a chef, my career, my time. And now I’m suffocating you?”
“You don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head. “Brooke doesn’t—” He stopped himself, but it was too late.
“Brooke doesn’t what?” I demanded, stepping closer. “Doesn’t ask for anything? Doesn’t expect you to act like a husband? Is that it?”
He didn’t answer, but the look on his face told me everything I needed to know. “Babe-”
“Fuck you. You disgust me,” I spat, tears streaming down my face as I turned and stormed out of the room.
-----------------------
I decided to try. One last time.
Roman was returning from Toronto this evening, so I cooked his favorite dinner—ribeye steak, medium, with mashed potatoes and garlic green beans. I even made the dessert he used to tell me he loved so much, a rich chocolate lava cake. I set the table with candles, dimmed the lights, and waited.
When he came home, he looked at the effort I’d put in and raised an eyebrow. His expression was guarded, his shoulders tense. He dropped his bags and stood there for a moment, staring at the table like it was a trap.
“What’s all this?” he asked, his tone flat.
“I wanted to remind you of what we have,” I said softly, trying to keep my voice steady. “Of what we could still be.”
He didn’t respond right away. His eyes lingered on the candles, the food, the delicate care I’d put into every detail. Then he sighed, walked over, and sat down without a word.
I sat across from him, trying to keep the weight of the silence from crushing me. He picked up his fork and knife, cutting into the steak with mechanical precision. He chewed slowly, his gaze fixed on his plate like he couldn’t bear to look at me.
“How is it?” I asked, my voice too bright, too desperate.
“It’s fine,” he said, not meeting my eyes.
“Fine?” I echoed, a brittle laugh escaping me. “I spent hours making your favorite meal, and all you can say is fine?”
He set his fork down, his jaw tightening. “What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to try, Roman!” I said, my voice cracking. “I want you to fight for us, for our marriage. Do you even care anymore?”
He looked up then, his dark eyes meeting mine. They were filled with something I couldn’t quite place—guilt? Anger? Resignation?
“Don’t do this again,” he said, his voice low.
“Don’t do what again?” I demanded, my hands trembling. “Don’t try to fix the mess you’ve made? Don’t try to save the life we built together while you’re off playing house with her?”
His expression hardened. “Babe, I'm tired. I'm not in the mood for another fight.”
“Another fight?” I repeated, incredulous. “You think this is about fighting? Roman, I walked in on you and Brooke not too long ago! I saw you with the woman you're cheating on me with! And now you expect me to just sit here and pretend everything’s fine?”
“You don’t know the whole story,” he said, his voice rising slightly.
I scoffed, folding my arms tightly across my chest. “Oh, enlighten me, then. What’s the whole story? That you’ve been sneaking around with some IG model while I’ve been sitting at home, waiting for you to remember you’re married?”
He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. “It’s not like that,” he muttered, avoiding my gaze. “It wasn’t supposed to…get this far.”
“What does that even mean?” I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief.
Roman hesitated, took a deep breath. “When we started having problems—when you started pushing me about kids, about everything—we stopped talking to each other. You didn’t even see it, but I did. I felt like I was losing myself, like I was just going through the motions to keep you happy. And then…she was just there.”
“‘She was just there?’” I mimicked him sarcastically. “That’s your excuse? She was 'just there' so you decided to wreck our marriage?”
“It wasn’t like I planned this!” he argued, his voice rising. “I didn’t wake up one day and decide to cheat! But Brooke…She wasn’t asking me for anything. She doesn’t have all these expectations. With her, I could just…be me.”
“Be you?” I spat, my voice shaking. “Who the fuck even are you, Roman? Because the man I thought I married would never have done this. He wouldn’t have entertained some clout-chasing, social-media leech who’s only with you because of your name!”
“It’s not just about her!” he yelled, standing up so abruptly his chair scraped against the floor. “It’s about us! About how we’ve been falling apart for years and you won’t admit it!”
Indignant, I stomped towards him. “We’re falling apart cuz of you! Because you’ve been lying, sneaking around, treating me like I’m the problem when it’s her! I’ve given you everything! I’ve stood by you through everything! Your injuries! The fucking leukemia! And this is how you repay me?”
“Man, I didn’t ask you to stand by me!” he lashed out, his voice cold and cutting.
His words hit me like a slap across the face. My chest tightened, my vision blurred, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
The room spun, and before I could think, my hand flew up and cracked across his face.
The sound of the slap echoed in the room, sharp and final. My palm stung, but the pain was drowned out by the adrenaline coursing through me. Roman’s head turned with the force of the blow, and he stood there for a moment, stunned. His jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he slowly straightened to look at me.
“You hit me,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
“And you deserved it!” My voice trembled. “How dare you? ‘You didn’t ask me?’ You didn’t ask me to give up my career to support yours? To put your dreams above mine? To be your wife? Your partner?”
Roman sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t mean it like that—”
“Then how the fuck did you mean it, Roman?” I shouted, tears streaming down my face. “Because all I hear is you telling me that I’ve wasted the last ten years of my life loving someone who doesn’t even care!”
“Do you think this is easy for me?” he yelled back, his voice booming as he took a step closer. “Do you think I like feeling this way? Feeling trapped?!”
“Trapped?” I echoed, my voice breaking as tears filled my eyes. I couldn’t believe I was here right now. “You think being loved by me is a prison? You think our marriage is some kind of cage?”
His words cut deep. Too deep. I stared at him, my chest heaving, the weight of his betrayal pressing down on me like a boulder. “You don’t even see what she’s doing to you. You're letting some gold-digging fitness Barbie play your old ass like a fiddle.”
Roman’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching. “You don’t know a damn thing about her.”
“And you do?” I countered. “I know enough to know she’s using you to boost her follower count. I know she entertains those guys in her comments propositioning her in her DMs. She doesn’t give a damn about you, Roman—not the way I do.”
“Don’t,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous.
“Don’t what? Don’t tell the truth?” I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “You’re too blind to see it, but she’s using you, baby. And when she’s done, she’ll leave you just like—”
“Shut up!” he yelled, his voice booming in the small room.
The silence that followed was deafening. We stared at each other, both breathing heavily, the weight of our words hanging in the air like a storm cloud.
He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room. “I can’t do this anymore.”
My heart dropped down to my toes as I realized what was coming next. “Roman, if you walk away, there’s no coming back,” I warned him.
He stopped pacing, turning to look at me. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something—regret, maybe? But it was gone as quickly as it came.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t…This is over. I’m done.”
Without another word, he grabbed his keys off the counter and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
I sank to the floor, my chest heaving with sobs as the sound of his car engine roared to life and faded into the distance.
-----------------------
Two months later, another bomb dropped.
Social media was buzzing with the news:
EXCLUSIVE: Brooke Harper, fitness influencer and rumored girlfriend of married WWE superstar Roman Reigns, is pregnant.
From Side Chick to Superstar: Influencer Brooke Harper Expecting WWE Champ Roman Reigns’ Baby!
Roman Reigns Revealed as Fitness Star Brooke Harper’s Baby Daddy in Shocking Pregnancy Announcement!
I stared at my phone, my hands trembling as I scrolled through the comments. Some fans were congratulating them, while others were outraged on my behalf. But the only thing I could focus on was the image of Brooke, glowing and smug, cradling her small but visible baby bump in a photo she’d posted on Instagram:
It was supposed to be me.
For years, I’d begged Roman to start a family, but he always had an excuse.
“It’s not the right time,” my husband had droned on, “Let me get through this next storyline”. “We’ll talk about it after WrestleMania”.
But he’d found the time for her.
For days, I cried. Screamed. Refused to eat and yelled into the empty rooms of this prison that was meant to be my home. It took me days before I began to accept the truth that my marriage was truly over. I couldn't keep fighting for someone who’d already left me. So, I started checking through divorce lawyers’ websites, needing guidance to commence arguably the most difficult process I’ll probably ever undertake in my life. As devastating as it was, it was time for the charade to end.
But then I came home one day and saw them.
Roman and Brooke. In our bed.
She was curled up against him, her head on his chest as they slept, her hand resting on his heart like it was hers to take. Roman’s hand was on her growing belly, protective and intimate, his fingers splayed like he was claiming the life they’d created together.
My stomach churned as it all hit me. Crashed into me with the force of a freight train.
This bitch hadn’t just stolen my husband. She had stolen my life.
A younger, skinnier version of me. And he let her.
I let her.
Something inside me snapped—like a taut string stretched too far, finally breaking under the weight of years of betrayal, lies, and disappointment. It wasn’t a single moment or thought that did it. It was everything. The nights I cried alone, the constant gaslighting, the humiliation of seeing my husband flaunt another woman while I held onto the tattered remnants of our marriage.
It all collided, an unstoppable force crashing into an immovable wall of my patience, my love, my restraint. In that instant, the part of me that once cared, that once hoped, disintegrated into nothingness. What filled the void was something raw, primal, and entirely unforgiving.
Unforgivable.
Quietly, I backed out of the room and closed the door. I walked through the house, locking every door, sealing every window. I yanked out the hose of the gas stove in the kitchen. My movements were calm, methodical. The storm inside me had settled, replaced by a chilling clarity.
When everything was secure, I grabbed a can of lighter fluid from the garage and walked back to the bedroom. I poured the fluid all over the room, then around the base of the bed and on the sheets, careful not to make a sound, careful not to miss a spot.
As I struck the match, I felt a strange sense of peace.
For the first time in years, I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t hurt.
I was free.
The flames spread quickly, consuming the master bedroom in a matter of minutes. But I didn’t stay to watch. Roman and Brooke woke up, their screams and frantic banging on the door that I locked from the outside muffled by the roar of the fire.
I calmly strolled out of the house, the heat of the flames warming my back, and sat silently on the lawn as sirens sounded in the distance.
By the time the firefighters arrived, the house was an inferno, red and orange flames hungrily devouring everything inside. My husband. His mistress. Their demon spawn. The life we built for ten years, all now reduced to ash and smoke in a mere couple of hours.
I watched as the blaze rose higher, unmoved by the chaos around me. I felt nothing. No grief. No regret.
I didn’t care. Not anymore.
THE END
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This is the first fic of this kind I've ever done 😬 How was it?
Please leave comments! I love comments 😁😙😊
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hunger and yearning
pairing: Sylus x gn!reader
tags: nsfw, mdni, riding, doggy style, size difference, possessive Sylus, degradation, praise kink, mentions of breeding, creampie
note: not beta read. i just wanna spread the horniness
Sleeping while wrapped in silk sheets in a hotel luxury bedroom is a much deserved break after months of chasing after Wanderers. It’s been a while since you completed a whole eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. The curtains are still drawn, basking the room in shadows. Your morning is almost perfect, if it weren’t for the empty space beside you.
You crack one eye open to confirm that Sylus wasn’t there. You frown as the gray-haired man is nowhere to be seen. You grab your phone from your bedside table and open up your messages.
“Where are you?” you ask him.
He’s not replying. You sigh and slide off of the bed. You head into the kitchen. There’s already food on the counter. There’s a batch of pancakes with bananas and blueberries and a note beside it. You pick up the note to read it. Apparently, Sylus headed out to the gym to get some morning workout and he’ll be back after an hour. You look at the pancake and smile. He definitely cooked these all by himself.
You take a seat on the counter and grab a fork and a bottle of syrup. You open your phone and play a video as you eat your breakfast. You finish eating your breakfast and head to the living room. You take a seat on the fluffy couch and turn on the television to continue watching what you were watching on your phone.
Suddenly, you hear the lock to the hotel door signal that it’s being unlocked. Sylus enters the room, drenched in sweat. He spots you on the couch and immediately comes over to you.
“Good morning, sweetie,” he greets, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your lips.
“Good morning,” you mumble back. You cup his cheek and look up at him. “I missed you. You weren’t beside me when I woke up.”
He chuckles. “I’m sorry, sweetie. You were asleep so I decided to get some exercise done before we head out. Don’t worry. You’ll have me for the rest of the day. I just have to take a shower first.” He pokes your nose and tries to pull away, but you won’t let him.
He tilts his head at you. You look back up at him and shift your shoulders. The loose pajamas you’re wearing slips off your shoulder. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him and a smirk immediately forms on his lips. You use this opportunity to slowly get up and guide him to sit on the couch. He obliges, maintaining his piercing gaze on yours. His large warm hands cup your hips as you plant both of your knees on either side of his thighs.
“Someone’s a little impatient today,” he teases as one of his hands travels down in between your legs. A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest as he feels your excitement coat his fingers.
You stifle a moan, but your trembling legs give away how deprived you are of his touch. “It’s been a month,” you grumble. “And then I wake up without you on top of me. Tell me, who wouldn’t be impatient, huh?”
Sylus’ smirk grows wider as he watches your fingers fiddle with his sweatpants. “Poor little kitten,” he groans as your soft fingers wrap around his cock. “Well, I’m here now. Go on. Use me for your own pleasure.”
He’s already hard and dripping with precum. You press the head of his cock to your already twitching hole. He pushed your hips down, but not too forcefully. He still lets you sink down on this cock at your own pace, considering how he sees your jaw drop and your eyebrows scrunch up in pain.
“Are you alright, my love?” he whispers, leaning forward to start licking one of your nipples. His tongue swirls around the nub before lightly biting down.
“Mm-hmm!” you whine, throwing your head back. It hurts. You have forgotten how huge he was after a month of not being able to be this close to him. However, that spike of pain that shot throughout your body doesn’t stop you from taking him in. You know that you’ll feel sore after this but what matters right now is to have him inside of you.
You recover yourself and wrap your arms around his neck. You bury your head in his hair, taking in his scent. He smells so good. His body is still warm from his morning workout. You cling to him as you feel the entire length of his cock stretching you out.
“Fuck,” he curses. “You’re so tight, sweetheart.” He looks up at you. With the way his eyes are glazed over, you know that he’s trying his best not to start slamming his cock into you. “I can feel how your walls are holding onto my cock so tightly. Did you miss me that much, huh?”
You simply answer with a nod as you lift your hips up and slowly bounce on his lap. Your jaw laxes, letting small whimpers fill up the empty hotel room. As much as you want to go fast, every time you sink down on his cock, it feels like his tip is pressing against your stomach.
“That’s my good little slut,” he praises, keeping his eyes planted on your pained expression. “Come on, sweetie. Show me how much you missed me.” He runs his rough fingers down your thighs before suddenly slapping your skin. “And I’ll reward you with the proper fucking that you deserve.”
“Yes, baby,” you gasp as you start increasing your pace. You bury your face on the crook of his neck. Each inhale you take is accompanied with his musky scent. That paired with his low moans is driving your mind crazy. The thought of doing the same to him with your hole and moans urges you to keep going faster even though you feel yourself running out of breath.
His palm slaps your bouncing ass several times while your hole continues to devour his cock. The pain from earlier is now replaced with an immense pleasure that you craved for weeks. Even the stinging of your skin that he’s abusing with his hand is being translated into pleasure. Your brain is already muffled and the only thing you can focus on is his cock splitting you in half.
You don’t even register Sylus placing his arms beneath your legs. “Hang on tight, kitten. I’m bringing you to the bedroom,” he says. You do as he says before he stands up with his cock still shoved inside of you. Each step he takes towards the bedroom makes your whole body twitch.
You only realize the two of you are in the bedroom when you feel his cock slip out of you as he places you down on the silky sheets. You whine in protest, now feeling empty. “Sylus,” you plead. “Put it back inside. I want you. Please, please, please….”
He lets out a low chuckle as he crawls on top of you. “So impatient,” he teases, his cock in his hand. He slaps his shaft against your hole. “Are you sure you want me to make a mess of you, sweetheart? You think you’ll be able to keep up, hm?”
You pull your knees up to your shoulders, showing your wet and twitching hole. “I’m all yours, so please just fuck me,” you cry, looking up at him and sticking your tongue out.
He grinds his teeth together at the sight of you. “Fuck, you’re such a good little fucktoy,” he growls before shoving his entire length into you. Before you can even scream, he leans down to devour your lips and your tongue.
He wastes no time slamming his hips against yours. His pace leaves you breathless but wanting for more. You don’t even care when you feel his hand wrap around your neck and start to squeeze. With his mouth against yours and his hands squeezing your neck, your eyes start to roll at the back of your head, already feeling woozy and numb. All you can feel is his cock driving his cock into your needy hole.
“You look so pretty like this, sweetie,” he groans. “You don’t know how much I craved to see you fucking break on my cock. Every night, I came to the thought of your hole wrapped around my cock. I thought about fucking my come into you and breeding you. Maybe if I plant my seed deep inside you, you’ll have no reason to be away from me. Every night, I get to fuck you and fucking breed this greedy little hole of yours over and over.” He laughs as you let out a weak whine. “Oh, you’d like that, don’t you? You like having all my cum inside you, my dirty little slut?” He loosens his grip on your neck. “Answer me, darling,” he demands.
“Yes….yes! Please cum inside me!” you exclaim. “I want it deep inside me. Please I need your cum to fill me up!”
“That’s my good little kitten.”
He pulls out of you and throws your entire body around like you weigh nothing at all before pushing his cock back into you. He grabs your hips, his fingernails digging into your skin. Your screams start to fill up the room as he mercilessly pounds into you. A string of curses escapes lips, feeling your hole tighten up even more.
“Wai-wait! I’m gonna cum!” you cry out. “I’m gonna cum!!”
“That’s right. Cum for me, but I will not be slowing down for you. I want to feel your slutty hole squeeze my cock. I told you I’m not gonna hold back,” he whispers in your ear. “And I intend to keep. My. Promise.” He emphasized the last three words with a deep thrust. On the last thrust, your whole body seizes up.
As promised, he keeps on slamming into you. You haven’t even finished your first orgasm yet but it’s already followed by another one. Your hands try to hold onto something, anything.
Sylus groans in pain above you as your nails drag across his flexed arm. His eyes are in a daze as he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head and your saliva drips out of your mouth. You looked so beautiful underneath him, under his mercy. Even if he did want to stop to let you catch your breath, the feeling of your walls squeezing him is preventing him from doing so. Your warmth is such an aphrodisiac to him.
“You’re so pretty, darling,” he pants. “Such a good little kitten for me.”
You whine in response. You want him to stop. Your whole body is currently oversensitive. You feel like you’re gonna pass out anytime soon.
“I know, sweetie,” Sylus cooes. “I know. I’m almost there.. Just hold on until I can come inside you, okay? Don’t you want my cum pumping you full, hm?”
Your whole body shudders in excitement at the thought of him filling you up. With your brain turned into mush, all you can do is babble incoherent words.
Sylus understands though and presses his entire weight on top of you while continuing to fuck your brains out. You remain incoherent as he takes your hand and intertwines your fingers together. “Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. You belong to me and only me, you get that?” he grunts. “Nobody gets to have this body of yours but me.”
“Yes, yes, yes…yes!” you gasp. “I’m yours. I belong to you. Please treat me as your cumdump. I want to have all your cum inside me…oh god…please, please, please!”
“Fuck, I’m coming,” Sylus says. His hand slips around your neck once again and he squeezes as he increases his pace. You can hear his heavy breaths and moans against your ear. His sweat is dripping down your skin, surrounding you with his strong smell. You can feel his heavy balls slapping against you every time he slams himself into you.
Before you know it, you’re reaching your third orgasm. Sylus curses under his breath and buries his cock deep into you, filling up your stomach with his warm and thick cum. He doesn’t let go of your neck, loving the feeling of how tight you are the more he restricts your airflow. Only when he feels your body go slightly limp that he lets go of you. He lifts himself up and spreads your thighs before he slowly pulls out of you.
He groans as he watches his thick load escape your twitching entrance. He scoops it with the head of his cock and shoves it back inside. He does this repeatedly. Pulling out his cock completely before pushing all of the oozing cum back inside your hungry hole.
He then gently flips your entire body. He cups your face and presses a gentle kiss which you weakly reciprocate. “You think you can still walk for our lunch reservation, sweetie?” he asks, a smile on his face.
You chuckle and wrap your legs around his waist. “You should ask if I still want to go,” you reply. “I think I might want another round of you for lunch instead.”
Your partner laughs. “Anything you want, darling. You know I’ll always give you what you want,” he whispers before pulling you in for another tender kiss.
#digital illustration#digital art#love and deepspace x mc#sylus x reader#sylus x you#love and deepspace sylus#my art#lads smut#lads sylus#love and deep space
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Ways to Add Luxury to Your Life
1. Stop saying “you can’t afford it”
2. Walk through or stop for a drink at a luxurious hotel
3. Create your own luxurious evening routine
4. Create your own luxurious morning routine
5. Schedule in something fancy
6. Wear your favorite handbag and shoes
7. Find your signature scent
8. Do your hair and make up
9. Shop your wardrobe
10. Choose your top 3 must do things everything
11. Cook from scratch
12. Drink champagne
13. Buy silk linens for your bed
14. Celebrate your wins
15. Personalized stationary
16. Visit museums and art galleries
17. Shop at farmers markets
18. Eat organic and fresh foods
19. Go on hikes
20. Play uplifting music
21. Plant a vegetable garden
22. Use lavender pouches in your drawers
23. Exercise daily
24. Only drink quality tea and coffee
25. Wear pretty/silk lingerie and cute lounge wear
26. Have a creative hobby
27. Visit the spa and get facials regularly
28. Buy fresh flowers
29. Use quality skincare and makeup
30. Take hot baths
31. Buy essential oils
32. Treat yourself
33. Add lemon to your water
34. Go to a high end gym or Lounge
35. Read a book before bed
36. Stop saving your nice things for later. Use them now
37. Use an exfoliator for your body
38. Stretching and yoga
39. Go to an artisan cafe for fresh croissants
40. Make your own dressings for your foods
41. Clean your house and your car
42. Take a detox shot in the morning
43. Treat yourself to a professional blow dry
44. Nails always done
45. Bake fresh cookies
46. Watch a classic and elegant film like Breakfast at Tiffany’s
47. Have a full feminine luxurious shower routine
48. Clean your makeup brushes and arrange them like a beauty counter for the next time you use them
49. Learn about art and wines
50. Decorate your home like a 5 star hotel
51. Use a pillow spray
52. Host a dinner party
53. If possible, hire a chef or cleaner to help you
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Spotless: Acciaccato
Chapter Thirty Six
Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader
Other characters: Castiel, Missouri (mentioned), Cain, nameless thugs, Benny, Sam and Kevin
Word Count: ~3100
Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, still unbeta'd, Dean has a few hard thinks about his past whether he wants to or not. The show must go on.
Super, extra, mega, uber, and deepest thanks to @lastactiontricia on this chapter. I know you could have done so much more with it, but I'm taking the knee. xoxo
Series Masterlist
The rooms the band nabbed in Vegas were straight out of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. It was almost a sin not to share, but at this point Dean would have been stuck with Kevin and even if the kid hadn’t come back in the wee hours with a handful of his own groupies, he doubted Kevin and he would have the same ideas on how to treat a hotel room in the middle of a stay.
Or how to respect a roommate’s privacy.
Instead, he luxuriated in his spacious suite. He told himself he wasn’t hiding or moping. He was just carefully taking some Dean-time before their second show. Besides, he had his therapy appointment in an hour anyway and his laptop was already set up on the desk in his room.
The softness level of the complimentary robe didn’t hurt either.
Dean turned on a ‘70s music station on the all access cable and checked out the city below. There was a time when he was in Vegas more than he was in LA, every minute he wasn’t needed in the studio he was either on the road or in one of Cain’s gyms or clubs.
As he took in the city skyline, it was difficult to stomach that he had ever been that guy. Like rewatching a movie where he once idolized the hero, only to see later, the guy was nothing short of a mass murderer hiding behind a badge. Of course, Dean was ashamed of what he did with all his time here. But more than that, he was terrified that that truth would get out.
That you would realize who he really had been then. Not just some self-absorbed rockstar who fucked anything that turned his head. Who threw away friendships because it was easier than actually working to maintain them. But the mindless rage monster, the guy who was numbed to the point of hurting himself and others to feel alive instead of trapped between planes of existence.
Cain had called it ‘pure’, that base instinct to hurt and dominate, a warrior’s need for victory. But Dean knew now it was an escape, to separate himself from his actions, and to justify the pain he caused and experienced. Dean had no idea if Cain was the man’s given name or not, but it was apropos, the way the man spoke, it was no wonder he was named after the first known murderer.
The room service coffee surpassed the chintzy little one cup brewer they provided in the kitchenette and Dean drank it down greedily. He sat on the leather couch and debated on how he was going to kill the next hour, besides getting dressed. One of the hardest parts of therapy, for Dean, was the build up. Which was why he usually tried to have plans beforehand, so he didn’t overthink too much before they even got started.
But after last night, and being in Vegas at all, he felt safer being alone. Or less exposed, at least.
Dean sighed, set his mug down, and picked up his phone. His wallpaper was the same as always, him and Baby, both bright and smiling for the camera. What the phone screen didn’t say was that Cas had taken the picture. Or that Dean had spent three months in between tours finally fixing her up with his own two hands. There were a lot of things Dean regretted in his life, but the stuff with Cas was at the top of his list.
Before he could stop himself, he pulled up Cas’ number and hit the phone icon. It was the middle of a work day, something he usually never thought about, and Dean was suddenly ashamed to admit he had no idea what Cas was doing for money at the moment.
“Hello?” that gruff familiar voice answered, clearly doubting it was actually Dean calling.
“Hey, Cas. How’s it going?”
“Dean?”
“Yeah.”
“Is everything alright?”
Dean leaned back and tried to sit with the uncomfortableness. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just— felt like checking in.”
The seconds ticked by, but Cas didn’t seem too keen to start up a conversation. The sound of someone working out a riff in the background drew Dean’s focus as his self-doubt almost had him hanging up the phone. Then Cas started moving, the background noise shifted and then disappeared.
“Sorry, we’re recording, but it’s slow going.”
Dean never felt so disconnected from his friend’s life. He didn’t even know they were like a real band or even what they sounded like. Let alone recording. “Wow! Cas, that’s—- that’s great. So what’re you callin’ yourselves?”
“Holy Terror.”
Dean chuckled. “Damn. That’s actually pretty dope, man.”
“I was out voted. I wanted ‘All in the Family’, but apparently that has incestuous implications.”
“Yeah, man, I’m with your bandmates on that one. So— who’s all playing with you? Besides, you know, the kid?”
“Jack. They have a name.”
“I know, dude, it’s just weird because it’s not like I’ve even met ‘em.”
“It is weird for me, too. My life has changed so much in the past year, and I imagine so has yours.”
Dean huffed. “Understatement of the century right there.”
This conversation was inevitable the moment Dean pressed the call button, but still he felt like he owed it to Cas to salvage it.
“And who else you got? Don’t tell me they’ve got you singing too.”
“No, I haven’t fallen so far as to attempt that kind of puppetry.”
Dean couldn’t help but laugh. How did he forget what a sarcastic asshole Cas could be?
“There’s also Balthazar.”
“Nooooo.”
“Yes.”
“Wow. Okay, well, maybe you won’t be the one with the highest totals anymore, that guy’s more of a porn star than a musician most days.”
Castiel exhaled deeply through his nose.
“What?”
“Our fourth member—- has actually done porn.”
“Cas? Don’t tell me you—”
“He volunteered.”
Dean looked up at the vaulted ceiling of his hotel room and then back at the television and its band facts scrolling at the bottom of the screen. “Wow! Well, I guess you’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“Gabriel actually paid for the studio time. Which has been helpful. Though Frank keeps a security guard on him at all times.”
“Frank let you guys in? Huh.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“No— I’m not. I mean it’s Gabriel is all. Not that you’re not qualified or however that sounded.”
“That’s— very fair of you.”
Dean kicked his heels up onto the coffee table. “Well, that’s the new me. I’ve matured and shit.”
“And shit.”
“You get it.”
“I should get going. Where are you? Should I call you back later?”
“Tonight’s Vegas round two, so no. Got Phoenix this weekend though, so maybe Sunday afternoon if you’ve got time. If not, no biggie.”
“How long will you be on the road?”
“Five months.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Eh— got some double duty at the tail end, since, you know.”
“Yeah. Well, I wish you all luck.”
“Back at ya, buddy. Let me know if you want me or Trouble to pump up this new gig up online, alright?”
“I’ll consider it. Thank you.--- Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for calling. It was good to hear your voice.”
Dean swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, you too.”
“Goodbye.”
“Yep.”
Dean hung up and dropped his phone and his hands into his lap. Deflated and a bit untethered, he guessed it was as good a time as any to get dressed.
The inner workings of the casino held an intricate hive of activity. From the hotel portion, to the venues for shows, out onto the actual casino floor, to the shops, restaurants, spas and other specialty amenities that kept people there and spending, workers bustled and hustled at every opportunity.
So it wasn’t surprising that not one, not two, but three different employees stopped him backstage as he walked around hours before showtime. His therapy with Missouri had left him drained, but in the way muscles were sore after a workout. His feelings were stretched thin, but the conviction he held them with was strengthening. He was emotionally tougher than ever, but it still exhausted him.
He gave himself some time in the wings, soaking in the memories of the concert the night before and the energy the fans had poured back out to them. He wanted to finish strong then and there, because then he could put the whole damn city behind him for the rest of the tour.
If only the universe worked in his favor.
Once he got downstairs, his past came back to knock him on his ass. Outside Phantom Traveler’s dressing room stood three men, two of them Dean didn’t bother trying to recognize, they were just goons. The third was someone he couldn’t forget even in his best dreams.
“Hello, Dean,” Cain’s natural civility oozed old money.
“What are you doing down here?” Dean asked without any pretense. So much for the abundance of security. But knowing Cain, he probably paid them off.
“I was hoping for a chance to catch up. It’s been a long time.”
“Not long enough,” Dean snipped, clocking the lanyards around Cain’s and his bodyguards’ necks. “So you’re here for the show?”
“Of course. You know I was always impressed with your endeavors.”
Dean couldn’t tell if the heat clawing up the back of his neck was from embarrassment, pride, or anger, with Cain things were always complicated. And the fucker knew it.
“Yeah, thanks for that,” Dean felt petulant, but he really didn’t need any favors from the guy.
Cain took a moment, holding Dean in that calculated gaze, then took a step forward. Dean did not back up.
“You know I’m actually surprised you’re deigning to talk to me yourself. Alastair said you sent some Cajun mongrel after him last night.”
“Well, Alastair decided to come at us like a scumbag pap, so-.” Dean shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal if he didn’t make it a big deal. He was barely making polite conversation anyway.
“He does tend to be too dramatic for his own good.” Cain slipped his hands into his pants pockets, casually, but also disarming himself in the process.
He was untouchable as ever.
“What do you want, man? Not that I’m not enjoying shooting the shit, oh wait, I’m not.”
“Don’t be rude. I wanted to remind you the door’s still open when you’re ready to get back to yourself. The ring’s not the same without you in it. And I hate to have you keeping all that raw talent untapped.”
The words tickled Dean the wrong way as they ticked off of Cain’s tongue.
Dean shuddered and swallowed against the rising bile.
“I’m out. Find yourself another prize hog. I’ve moved on.” He felt the dead look in his own eyes as Cain tisked at his refusal.
“Is that what you tell Ms. Y/L/N? Swear you’ve gone straight, to keep her from looking at you with fear in her eyes? I must say she seems just as smitten with you as that covergirl is supposed to be.”
Dean clenched his jaw and his fist.
Cain let his words sink in and then he took Dean out by the knees. “She doesn’t know, does she, Dean?”
“So what?”
“A man is not what he thinks he is, but he is what he hides,” Cain recited with a raised brow. “What did I tell you about those that don’t understand your dark side? You’ll only disappoint them in the end.”
Dean felt like a kid getting reprimanded for talking back, though Cain was more the dotting teacher type. “Some things should stay buried.”
Cain straightened up and nodded in agreement. “I could always fill her in myself— if it’s too much for you to explain. We could even bring her out after the show, together. Give her a tour of our operations and let her see for herself what you’re capable of? Then maybe you’ll see that she’s not worth the worry.”
“Not a chance. In fact, don’t even fucking look at her.”
“Dean! I’m offering to put some polish on the time we spent together. I’m willing to let Y/N in on your true nature. If that makes it more palatable. You know, it’s not just Alastair that misses seeing you in the ring. I’m sure the boys wouldn’t mind having a fresh— distraction around. We’ve all seen her, you know.”
Dean felt the rage wash over him, the snarling, festering truth; his Hyde side was never truly gone.
“Leave her out of this.” Dean warned, low and bitter. He felt his skin vibrating, his weight shifted naturally onto his toes as his body readied to strike, to lash out and protect.
Cain looked at him with something close to pity, even as he threatened Dean to the edge of sanity. “I don’t think you understand the lengths I’ll go to bring you home. With or without her, you can’t change who you are inside or where you belong.”
“Everything alright, boss?” Benny’s voice broke through Dean’s thundering thoughts.
“Ah, here’s your man,” Cain’s eyes brightened and he spun on his heels to greet Benny outright. “Yes, hello, Cain Charles. Mr. LaFitte.”
Benny didn’t blink at the uneven introduction, just shook Cain’s hand and held his equally icy glare. “Pleasure.”
“Right. Dean and I were just catching up. But we can leave you gents to set up for the show tonight.” He looked over his shoulder at Dean and then at his two thugs. “Boys? Let’s go find out if they’ve got the box seats open yet.”
Benny, with his flawless instincts, stepped up to the plate. “Why don’t I go with ya? See if I can ease your way?”
Benny nudged Dean with his elbow as he gestured Cain and company down the hall towards the elevators. “You good, hoss?”
“No,” Dean practically grunted.
“Well, go on. I’ve got them.”
Dean shook his head, but kept the rest of his response to himself. He kept his eyes on the back of Cain’s perfect salt and pepper waves until Benny followed half of a beat after. Finally, they disappeared behind sliding metal doors.
Dean gasped out the breath he had been holding and turned and punched the cinderblock wall that led to the dressing rooms. His knuckles burst open and he bent in half with the hot, familiar pain. It wasn’t enough to take away the gut twisting worry that Cain had planted inside him.
But it was enough to bring him back to himself, to that moment and to his hitching breath. He inhaled and shook out his hand. Then he exhaled.
Dean told himself that setbacks happen, that he still was in control of his actions. It just was going to be a long night.
The lights poured down on Dean from every angle, surrounding him with inescapable heat and scrutiny. The show was half way over, he just needed to calm down and be in the moment. But somewhere in the dark, he knew Cain was watching him. No, watching them.
He flashed a forced grin, cocky and reckless. Fake it ‘til you make it. But the fans loved it, so he kept up the ruse.
“Kevin?” he asked playfully.
“Yeah, Dean?”
“How about we skip the next one and give ‘em some Prophet and Loss instead?”
The crowd screamed in agreement, but Kevin took his time, playing up his indecision.
“You guys wanna hear the new stuff don’t you?!” Dean bellowed, egging them on. Internally begging them to let him out of singing about Lisa right now, or about who he used to be. He couldn’t wait until the album was released and they could focus on the new music, and just touch on the hits.
The fans bayed with excitement.
Kevin played along, ignoring the rest of the setlist and absolutely flexed on the solo.
Letting Kevin have the spotlight, Dean backed up next to Sam, nodding at him as he kept the bassline going. Sam had taken the news of Cain’s reappearance seriously, putting Jesse on Madison detail until she would be taking the flight back to LA the next morning. Bobby and Victor were given blatant warnings that every band member was to be escorted to and from the show and their rooms, yourself and Charlie included. Benny personally promised he’d ensure it got done. But that was only a bandaid on a wound that had been left festering for too long.
Cain knew all of Dean’s tells, and most of his secrets.
Sam, now, held Dean's gaze, silently checking in. But Dean could barely look him in the eye, he was that rough.
Which, of course, Sam noticed.
Guilt was par for the course with Dean, if something sucky was happening, he always felt somewhat at fault. But this was entirely and undeniably his fault and that weight was enough to pull him under and if he wasn’t careful, he’d just let himself sink. To give in to the temptation and be the guy Cain wanted him to be: the fighter that Alastair had curated out of the bar fights and back alley brawls of Dean’s formative years.
To succumb to the anger, and the fear that he’d never be more than that animal, was just too easy.
So, when Sam gave him that incredulous look on stage, Dean had to use every ounce of self control not to just punch his lights out. Fuck him, of all people, for judging Dean.
He was fucking trying, okay?!
Then Sam’s face shifted and his massive forehead hitched and the puppy dog eyes came out and Dean didn’t want to be seen anymore. He shook his head, shrugged and continued winding his way around the stage, touching base with each member until he was at Kevin’s side. Dean fell into rhythm with Kevin’s extended solo, swaying and bobbing with the beat as it mellowed into a much more upbeat swinging vibe than anything the song it had emerged from ever held.
In that moment, Dean remembered how insanely grateful he was that Kevin had joined the band. His unique twist to the music, mischief, and raw talent were something like paddles to the chest, a resuscitation. A new chance at life for the band.
That bright reminder of hope, of progress, got Dean through the rest of the show. They brought out Annie next and ‘Baby’ was as smooth as the chrome on her namesake.
There were things coming for him that he hadn’t outrun. But on that stage, he was the one who was untouchable. And if it was going to all slip through his fingers by the consequences of his own actions, at least he’d leave it on a high note.
He gave the people what they came for, and they all left the stage sweaty and smiling.
Tagging:
@deans-spinster-witch
@mrswhozeewhatsis
@cosicas-cuquis
@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like
@suckitands33
@ladysparkles78
@deans-baby-momma
@stoneyggirl2
@sassy-pelican
@leigh70
@globetrotter28
@winharry
@lastactiontricia
@rockhoochie
@brightlilith
@coldhearted93
@djs8891
@beautiful-places-blog
@n-o-p-e-never
@spxideyver
Chapter 37: Portato
#spotless series#spn fanfic#rockstar au#dean/reader#dean x reader#dean x you#slow burn#friends to lovers
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John Doe woke up to the monotonous beep of his alarm clock, the digital display reading 05:00. He groaned and rolled over, his eyes adjusting to the dim light seeping through the blinds. The room was a study in neutral tones, from the beige carpet to the off-white walls, and the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of a clock that had been a gift from his father.
John was an average man in his late twenties, with a body that suggested more time spent in front of a computer than at the gym. His hair was a mess of dark waves, and his eyes were a tired shade of brown. He worked a desk job that paid the bills but didn't excite him, and his social life was as bland as the décor in his apartment. His mornings were a routine of the same old grind.
Today, however, was different. John had received a letter, not the usual email or bill, but an actual letter with a proper stamp and an official-looking envelope. It was from the government, but it wasn't a tax notification or a jury duty summons. It was an invitation to a place called the DRONE Center. He had heard whispers about it, a mysterious facility that promised a life of purpose and fulfillment.
Curiosity piqued, John had signed up for more information, not truly believing he would ever receive a response. Now, as he stared at the envelope, his heart thumped in his chest. The logo on the letter was a sleek black drone, the letters "DRONE" emblazoned in shiny silver beneath it. The Division for the Recalibration of Obedient Neural Enclaves, it read. What could that mean? He had read the brochure countless times, but the reality of it all was starting to sink in.
John showered and dressed in his best suit, feeling the weight of the decision he was about to make. The center promised to transform him into something greater, to serve a higher purpose. As he stepped out into the crisp morning air, the world around him looked sharper, more vivid than it ever had before. The thought of leaving his mundane life behind for something more was intoxicating.
He arrived at the center, a towering, gleaming building nestled in the heart of the city. The doors slid open with a hiss, revealing a reception area that was more like a luxury hotel lobby than a government facility. The man at the desk looked up at him, his smile as perfect as the gleaming chrome surfaces around them. "Welcome to DRONE," he said, his voice a soothing purr. "We've been expecting you."
The elevator ride to the top floor was swift and silent, the mirrored walls reflecting his slightly nervous expression. When the doors opened, he was greeted by a room that looked more like a futuristic gym than anything else. Men in tight, rubberized suits moved with mechanical grace, their bodies sculpted to perfection. The air was filled with the faint scent of antiseptic and something else, something that made John's heart race.
The man who had led him there, Dr. Hartwell, explained the process in a cool, detached tone. "You'll undergo a series of treatments and training sessions to become one of our elite drones. It's a three-year commitment, but I assure you, it's an opportunity of a lifetime."
John nodded, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. He had made his choice, and there was no turning back now. As he donned the provided uniform, the smooth rubber clinging to his skin, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of life awaited him in the service of the DRONE Center.
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The tennisclub (NEW PICTURES)
Benjamin is portrayed as a talented tennis player with promising potential. Coming from a wealthy family, his parents are constantly traveling, leaving him in the care of nannies. Benjamin's skill on the tennis court catches his father's attention, and he decides to build a luxurious tennis club for his son. By the time the club is completed, Benjamin is sixteen years old, and the facility boasts top-notch amenities such as tennis courts, an Olympic-sized pool, a gym, a bar, and a restaurant. The club becomes a success, with membership restricted to the affluent and influential.
To guide Benjamin's development, his father hires Michael, formerly a top ten tennis player and now an experienced coach. Michael, having grown in up a privileged family himself, understands the challenges of having uninterested parents. At thirty-five years old, Michael is handsome but has gained weight since his retirement. He lives comfortably off a trust fund and occasionally takes on coaching jobs to stay active and explore the world.
Michael devises a meticulous training schedule for Benjamin, starting each morning with cardio or HIIT training, followed by school. In the afternoons, Benjamin spends two hours practicing tennis, focusing on technique and skills, with fitness workouts scheduled three times a week. The provides club all the necessary resources to groom champions.
Under Michael's training regimen, Benjamin transforms from a skinny talented high and school tennis into player a muscular tennis machine within six months. As the competitive season commences, Michael is convinced that Benjamin is ready, and indeed, he starts winning match after match.
In order to compete on the global stage, Michael advises Benjamin to have a private tutor to ensure that his schooling is not neglected. The prestigious American private school that Benjamin attends offers this option. Regular tests are conducted to track his progress, and official exams are administered periodically.
Benjamin's tennis career skyrockets, and he even secures fashion endorsements. For Michael, this is paradise, as they are constantly surrounded by five-star hotels, enjoyable parties, and delectable cuisine. However, Michael discovers that he is putting on a bit more weight, with his clothes gradually becoming tighter then when he started as a coach.
Deciding to a change make, he joins Benjamin for runs and incorporates fitness workouts into his routine. As a result, he manages to shed some of the extra weight. Benjamin on the other hand was thriving and constantly showing off his sculpted muscles.
At the age of eighteen, Benjamin wins his first Grand Slam tournament, marking a significant milestone in his career. After triumphing in all the events major that year, he takes a summer break in St Tropez with his family. The experience is filled with fun and adventure, and Benjamin becomes a star in the village. He receives invitations to parties on boats, as well as lavish dinners and lunches. One day, while riding a jet ski with a friend, Benjamin gets into a racing accident that leaves him with several broken bones, including his spine. He falls into a coma and remains unconscious two for weeks, eventually waking up to the news that his back has healed with the help of therapy. However, his ankle remains fragile, effectively ending his tennis career. Devastated, he returns home and begins therapy, realizing he must now pursue a different path without tennis matches.
In the meantime, Michael is offered a job as the head coach at the tennis club. During school hours, he teaches the lunch ladies, and in the evenings, he coaches adult players, often enjoying beers with them afterwards. Being a staff member grants him access to free meals, and he frequently receives invitations to lunch or dinner from his clients. However, since he no longer participates in Benjamin's training sessions, Michael falls back into old habits and becomes lazy. He opts for teaching sessions rather than working out on his own, leading him to gain weight once again.
When Benjamin returns to the club, he is shocked to see his old coach's significant weight gain. He playfully comments on Michael's size, and Michael admits his fault in letting himself go. Benjamin, on the contrary, has transformed into a handsome man with a muscular physique. His ankles can’t deal with cardio after the accident so he focuses solely on weightlifting during his recovery. Which results in a buff 22 year old.
Feeling sorry for his friend and former coach, Benjamin offers to train together with Michael. They start off strong, but Michael soon succumbs to the allure of the club's temptations, including attractive women, free food and drinks, and parties. Eventually, he gives up on his efforts and Michael gains even more weight. The decline of his personal training classes leads to him being hired as the general manager of the club, where his job mostly involves office work, attending parties, and managing events. Leading a sedentary lifestyle, he becomes significantly larger in size.
Despite his physical transformation and declining health, Michael is content with his life. He no longer sees the need to lose weight, embracing his newfound position and the pleasures it brings.
#fictionalweightgain#maleweightgain#maleweightgainstories#weightgain#weightgainstories#fictionalstories
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Idk how to write smth modern durgetash, but I do have a list of hcs which I find mildly amusing to consider:
- Gortash obvs wearing suits. But also has a huge collection of cuff links including a pair of gold skulls
- Kaidos however, full black tracksuit + black beanie and mask. Maybe also fingerless gloves
- Despite dressing like that, he is allowed to the top floor of whichever skyscraper Gortash own with his tech company that definitely dodges taxes
- Kaidos can drive, and Gortash will gift him cars, but he will never get into one with Kaidos driving. They will crash.
- While getting ready in the morning, Gortash will play 70s love songs. Depending on the mood, this will either make Kaidos smile and happily watch Gortash while he remains in bed, or instead whine and throw whatever he grabs first at the radio
- If Gortash really wants to bother Kaidos, he will play classical/operatic music. Usually done when he feels Kaidos has spent too much time laying in bed
- Gortash probably has a private gym in his luxury penthouse purpose made for Kaidos. He will also watch him workout while on business calls
- If he has to go on business trips, Kaidos is joining him. They’ve never not completely ruined a hotel room they’ve shared
#might add more later#considered adding smth abt multiple holidays or cruises a year but tbh all forms of gortash would be a workaholic#dark urge#gortash#durge#durgetash#oc: Kaidos Escaris
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A city for the senses, from the enticing scent of a hearty gumbo to the energizing beat of a jazz band. At The Ritz-Carlton, New Orleans located on the edge of the French Quarter, the experience of the city comes to life as soon as guests cross the threshold of the historic luxury hotel. Set within the 1908 Beaux Arts Maison Blanche building, our hotel highlights traditional Southern ambiance with an elegant interior that reflects the graciousness of Garden District mansions. Immerse yourself in the opulent ambiance of The Ritz-Carlton, New Orleans suites, adorned with exquisite furnishings and plush bedding, and breathtaking views of the city, creating an oasis of tranquility in the heart of the Crescent City.
*ROOMATES ARE LISTED AT THE END OF THIS POST
HOTEL FACILITIES:
SPA.
Everyday: 9:00 AM-5:00 PM
The experience at The Ritz-Carlton Spa, New Orleans is about more than relaxation; it is a way to connect with the French Quarter's mystical spirit, charming warmth, and defining essences. Signature treatments at our hotel day spa include a New Orleans-inspired Voodoo Ritual and an indulgent couple’s experience in a specially designed Couples Suite. Spread across 25,000 square feet, our hotel's spa is the largest in New Orleans and is appointed with 20 treatment rooms, a café and a boutique.
Featured Wellness Treatments:
Awakening Bamboo Massage
Channeling an uplifting, rhythmic
blend of free-flowing movements,
this enlivening and healing
treatment instills a sense of complete
wellness with the mind settled in a
sanctuary of calm and positivity.
Spa Dream Elemental Massage
This unique massage begins with
your choice of dry essential oil to
induce deep relaxation. Atop a
warm water massage table, gentle
rocking and stretching increases
joint mobility and releases
deep-seated tension.
Natural Resilience Facial
This specialized facial is the
complete approach to skin health.
Powerful age defying techniques
along with cool jade rollers facilitate
lymphatic drainage and leave the skin
firm, lifted, and beautifully radiant.
FITNESS CENTER.
Open 7 days a week, 24 hours a day.
With 24/7 access available with room key, work out in the state-of-the-art Fitness Center. Our fitness center, located adjacent to the spa, offers state of the art cardiovascular machines and weight equipment as well as a spinning studio, complete with a Wexer virtual coach. The studio features a variety of classes reflecting the industry’s hottest titles and trends with more than 600 workouts from top brands such as Zumba, Virtual Active, and FitFusion. Each of these classes can be tailored to guests’ specific needs. Virtual spin bike courses allow guests to travel to destinations such as The Swiss Alps or West Coast from the comfort of the Ritz-Carlton New Orleans gym.
Equipment Available:
Cardiovascular Equipment
Elliptical Machines
Exercise Bikes
Free Weights
Strength Equipment
Treadmills
Weight Machines
SWIMMING.
Mon : 12:00 PM-9:00 PM
Tue-Sun : 9:00 AM-9:00 PM
Resistance Pool and Whirlpool
Indoor
Towels provided
Heated
DINING:
Local dining and musical traditions live on at The Ritz Carlton, New Orleans. Farm-to-table Louisiana cuisine, including shrimp and grits and bouillabaisse, is showcased at M Bistro restaurant. At Davenport Lounge, light fare and cocktails are served to the sounds of live jazz.
M BISTRO.
M bistro’s New Orleans cuisine features a menu with the finest ingredients from farmers in Louisiana, Texas, Mississippi and Alabama.
Breakfast Mon-Fri 7AM-11AM
Breakfast Buffet Sat-Sun 7AM-12PM
Lunch Daily 11AM-2PM
Dinner Daily 5:30PM-10PM
Dress Code:Smart Casual
DAVENPORT LOUNGE.
Enjoy cocktails and light fare, as well as the sounds of resident musician Jeremy Davenport and his band Wednesday-Thursday 5:30PM - 9:30PM, Friday- Saturday 8:00PM - 12:00AM. In addition, Afternoon Tea is offered Saturday 11:00AM and 2:30PM.
Opening Hours:
Mon-Thu,Sun:
11:00 AM-11:00 PM
Fri-Sat:
11:00 AM-1:00 AM
SUITES.
Hotel rooms and suites at The Ritz-Carlton, New Orleans feature commissioned artwork inspired by New Orleans's heritage, smart TVs with streaming apps, and spacious layouts with executive work desks.
PREMIUM QUEEN/QUEEN SUITE.
Premium Suite with 2 Queen Beds, Living/sitting area, Dining area, Separate living room, Wireless internet, for a fee, Coffee/tea maker
2 Queen Beds
Rollaway beds not permitted
Cribs permitted: 1
Pillowtop mattress, Duvet, and Frette luxury linens
EXECUTIVE SUITE.
Executive Suite, 1 King, Living/sitting area, Separate living room, Wireless internet, for a fee, Coffee/tea maker
1 King Bed
Rollaway beds permitted upon request
Cribs permitted: 1
Pillowtop mattress, Duvet, and Frette luxury linens
ROOM SERVICE IS AVAILABLE EVERY DAY 24/7.
FEATURES:
Terraces
Third Floor Upper Lobby
Courtyard & Fountain
ROOMATES:
Nina Dobrev & Andrew Hozier Byrne
Alycia Debnam-Carey & Matt Smith
Selena Gomez & Sabrina Carpenter
Joe Burrow & Dua Lipa
Taylor Hill & Jenna Coleman
Lily James & Glen Powell
Olivia Cooke & Anya Taylor-Joy
Gigi Hadid & Amelia Dimoldenberg
Madison Beer & Callum Turner
Taylor Swift & Daisy Edgar-Jones
Andrew Garfield & Emma D'Arcy
Emila Clarke & Nicholas Galitzine
Florence Pugh & TBD
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The Concierge Plays Fetch - Papyrus (Part 9)
The last two to be found for the sudden meeting remain elusive. Sans and Papyrus.
You have long since learned not to question the Manager when she decides to suddenly change her schedule around. If her guests had no issue, neither did you. And so you only vocalise an affirmation when the Manager calls you and asks you to find both men - after all, you know where everyone is in the Hotel.
Although, you’re not sure if the skeleton brothers were all that mysterious, preference-wise.
“HHHHHGHH!” The loud grunt reverberates through the luxurious, well-equipped, if empty, gym.
Stars, you’ve never seen this place completely empty before, but you suppose that few could get a good workout in when an 8-foot skeleton is busy grunting louder than people yell. Idly, you wonder whether that’s an admirable trait or not - the ability to clear an entire room with one’s voice only.
Still.
It doesn’t take long for Papyrus to finish his set on the squat rack, all of the available weights loaded upon it nearly making the bar bend. Crimson beads of sweat pour off his form, causing his tight tank top and equally tight leggings to stick to his bones. It’s interesting how tall and lanky he is, but at the same time looking built and strong.
Ensuring that you are seen in the mirror just in his line of sight, you wait, hands folded over your belly. You take a moment to carefully examine his figure - the thick bones that look alien and human all at once. You’re fairly certain he has more bones than a human would have; you wouldn’t have survived this long otherwise.
Thick vertebrae snake up from his sacrum, much much thicker than a human’s, flexing and moving with each squat. His femurs are as thick as your own thigh, his humerus just about the size of your head. No doubt if one tried, they could fit in the expanse of his rib cage.
And despite the masterful build of his body, the ivory bones are littered with the trophies of battles won, of enemies killed. There is not an inch of his visible body that is completely devoid of marks. It is clear that bones do not scar. Not in the way that skin does.
There is a macabre sort of beauty to him, you think, and somehow it fits right into this world.
And of course, because he is made of bones and magic, you can see exactly where you’d need to hit to incapacitate him.
"HOW BRAZEN, TO EXAMINE YOUR ENEMY FOR HIS WEAKNESSES IN HIS LINE OF SIGHT.”
Papyrus’s voice is loud, echoing throughout the room, and causing you to flick your eyes up from where you were looking at the crimson magic glowing in his joints, the nicks and dips in his bones where his wounds had healed badly.
“Pardon the interruption, Mister Papyrus.” You incline your head as he finishes the last of his set, not even bothering to defend yourself.
One, two, three more squats and he racks the weights, panting as he comes out from under the slowly bending bar to sit on a nearby bench. All the while, keeping his crimson lights trained on you in the mirror. How confident, to give you his back while he is unarmed, his midriff bared.
You step closer, just barely out of reach, and look at the groaning bar carefully. “I must remind you that the weights must be returned to the appropriate racks once you are done. All the weights.” It is difficult to restrain a little smile from tipping your lips up at the self-satisfied look on his face that makes his grin look very much like Sans’.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT?” He asks, his booming voice devoid of the scowl from earlier as he wipes away the crimson sweat from his ivory skull.
“The meeting has been moved forwards,” you say, offering another towel to him when it’s clear that the one in his hands had become saturated with thin crimson.
Papyrus looks at you warily but takes the towel nevertheless, unravelling it and flicking it flat as though expecting something to be hidden in it. There is nothing, which surprises him. His face is oddly expressive for being all bone.
“WHEN?”
“When you have refreshed yourself, Mister Papyrus.” Your hands return to where they fold over your belly. “King Asgore, Captain Undyne, and Mx Frisk have arrived. They are in the Lounge.”
At that, Papyrus jolts and scrambles to return the weights and relieve the straining bar of its burden. “WHAT?! WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THAT EARLIER?” His screeching is honestly amusing to see and hear, though you are glad the gym is empty. Stars, his voice echoes.
Holding your tongue is easy by this point, all that you ever wish to say trapped behind a careful filter between your brain and your mouth. So despite it all, you only say, “Would you like me to show you to the Lounge, sir?”
“NO. YOU NEED TO FIND MY USELESS BROTHER AND DRAG HIM OUT OF WHICHEVER CESSPOOL HE FOUND HIMSELF IN,” Papyrus booms, finishing with the weights quicker than a human would. He waves you away, as if expecting you to go. Except...
You don’t move.
There is something you must establish with these monsters. With any guest. You are there as Concierge, as service staff. But you will never answer to any of them. And certainly not when their tone is like that.
Papyrus seems to get it immediately. Sharp as a blade, that one. He clears his magical throat and hangs the towel around his neck, facing you with his body. “I CAN FIND MY OWN WAY TO THE LOUNGE, THANK YOU. I SUGGEST YOU FIND MY BROTHER, HE WILL TAKE LONGER TO COAX AWAY FROM HIS DRINK.”
Better.
You incline your head. “Please help yourself to any refreshments in the Lounge, Mister Papyrus.”
The skeleton only waves, an informal gesture that, although flippant, doesn’t look anything like the imperious move from before. As you leave, he calls out, his voice easily reaching you from the other end of the gym, “GOOD HUNTING, CONCIERGE.”
Unbidden, your lip tips up on one side. Brief, like a sudden breeze, and disappearing just as quick.
Now, to find Sans.
And you know exactly where he will be.
#undertale fics#mafiafell au#mafiafell papyrus#not papyrus x reader#or is it?#still a mafiafell sans x reader#the concierge#ficlet#drabble#so sad ao3 is down from a ddos attack#i've only got tumblr for now
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Map
Here we have the map of the lovely Luxure Region. The artificial paradise made rather wonderfully with small artificial bioms for the region to enjoy
This region is very small, and mostly works as a luxury get away resort. The entire region is no bigger than the Battle Frontier from Hoenn.
You arrive on the south of the island, at the airport. Where you are met by the professors, Juniper and Sonia.
North of the airport, following the only real road in the region, you arrive in EctaCity. The only city in the island, it is still a very large one. Bars, hotels, clothing shops and more. For anything and everything you would need
Also within EctaCity are the Contest Hall, the tower of the Elite 4, the Pokémon Centre and the regions Pokémon Lab.
On the left of the island we have Skyla's Flying Gym, Clair's Dragon Gym, Elsa's Electric Gym, Candice's Ice Gym, Nessa's Water Gym and Bae's Fighting Type Gym.
And on the right hand side we have Mallow's Grass Type Gym, Klara's Poison Gym, Sabrina's Psychic Gym, Whitney's Normal Gym, Flannery's Fire Gym and Olivia's Rock Type Gym
All Gyms in this region also has a secondary usage as well. As this Region is a get away, the Gyms are just a fun option for if you wish to partake. If not, then these buildings would be pointless. So each of them also has a method of entertainment
Skyla's gym has hand gliding. Clair's Dragon Gym is a museum about Dragon-Type Pokémon as well as tribes from multiple regions that focus on Said Pokémon type. Elsa's is connected to this Regions branch of PokeStar Studios, which focuses on more... Adult films. Candice's Gym is set at the top of the mountain range, acting as a ski resort. Nessa's is a beach resort. Bae's Gym is not just a Pokémon gym but also a gym for working out and training.
Mallow's gym is an exotic green house and outdoor kitchen. Klara's Gym acts as a club with a rather... spercific taste. Sabrina's is a dojo for meditation, yoga and so on. Whitney's gym is the least amusement focused, and is instead a farm that helps support the entire region to reduce the imported food they require. Flannery's is a sauna. And Olivia's let's you have fun with rock climbing
There also appears to be a strange cave range at the north of the island. A place with plenty of wild Pokémon. And hiding something dark and mysterious....
(Credit to @1-king-many-queens for making this map for me)
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Stay Fit with Global Life Travel's Premier Hotel Gyms
Discover the top luxury hotel gyms with Global Life Travel. Experience state-of-the-art fitness facilities, personalized training sessions, and breathtaking views while you work out. Stay fit and energized during your travels with our curated list of the finest luxury hotel gyms, designed to enhance your wellness journey.
#Top luxury hotel gym#Best hotel with gym#Top state of the art gym#Top luxury hotels with fitness facilities
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Experience the Best Hotel in Jaipur for Luxury Stay
The city of Jaipur, with its timeless traditions, palatial architecture, and vibrant culture, is waiting to be discovered. Our establishment is strategically located, giving you easy access to the city's famous attractions. Welcome to an excellent Hotel in Jaipur and experience the finest hospitality with a wonderful ambiance. At The Trade International, we redefine the art of hospitality, giving you an unforgettable experience from the moment you arrive.
Our luxurious accommodations are thoughtfully designed to offer you the perfect blend of comfort and style. Each room and suite is a haven of opulence, with modern amenities that cater to both business and leisure travelers. Whether you are here for a romantic getaway, business trip, or family vacation, you will find a place that will suit your needs.
Enjoy our world-class dining options, where culinary excellence meets exceptional service. Our talented chefs are dedicated to preparing exquisite dishes that will tantalize your taste buds. From local cuisine to international cuisine, there is a journey for every taste.
For relaxation seekers, our spa and wellness center is a haven of peace. Immerse yourself in tranquility as our skilled therapists offer you a variety of rejuvenating treatments. Relax by the pool or maintain your fitness routine in our state-of-the-art gym.
The Trade International also offers versatile event spaces, perfect for hosting business meetings, conferences, or special celebrations. Our experienced team is committed to ensuring that your event is a success down to the smallest detail.
At our hotel, your comfort and happiness is our top priority. Our dedicated staff is here to attend to your every need, providing personalized service that adds an extra layer of comfort to your stay. As the Best Hotel & Resort in Jaipur - The Trade International takes pride in anticipating your wishes and making your experience truly extraordinary.
Whether you're here for a day or a week, our hotel is your gateway to the best the city has to offer. We are conveniently located near famous attractions, making it easy for you to explore and connect with the local culture.
Experience luxury services at an affordable price at this amazing hotel. We look forward to serving you and creating unforgettable memories that will be extraordinary for your life.
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Luxury well furnished Service Apartments Delhi
Service apartments provide the perfect accommodations for those who are looking to experience a luxurious living experience. These types of apartments typically come fully furnished, offering beautiful and well-appointed furniture that adds a touch of sophistication and style to any space.
Luxury well furnished apartments
Furniture is one of the most important aspects of interior design, as it sets the overall mood and tone for a room. Well-furnished apartments often include high quality pieces such as comfortable sofas, armchairs, coffee tables, sideboards, and bedding. These pieces help to create an inviting atmosphere that is both aesthetically pleasing and comfortable. Additionally, Service Apartments Delhi may feature artwork or other decorative items such as lamps or rugs that further enhance their overall look and feel.
When selecting furniture for your service apartment, it’s important to take into account how much you space have available in each room. The size of the pieces should match the size of the room in order to ensure it does not appear cluttered or overcrowded. It’s also important to consider which materials are best suited for your lifestyle – wood furniture may be more durable but leather sofas may be easier to maintain over time.
Top-notch amenities at worthy rates
When it comes to luxury living, Service Apartments Gurgaon provides the perfect balance between affordability and comfort. Many of these serviced apartments offer amenities that rival those of five-star hotels, such as well-appointed bedrooms, spacious living areas, modern kitchens and luxurious bathrooms. But what makes them truly special is that they also provide best facilities and amenities at much more affordable rates than a hotel stay.
For instance, serviced apartments feature state-of-the-art gyms with the latest exercise equipment and access to onsite swimming pools. They have concierge services or even a 24/7 reception desk that can help you with any queries during your stay. Other common features include private terraces for al fresco dining, games rooms, lounges with satellite TV, high speed internet access and even complimentary breakfast included in the price of your stay. With all these facilities available at an affordable rate, staying in a service apartment can make luxury living within reach for everyone.
In terms of location as well, Service Apartments Noida are often situated in prime areas with easy access to public transport links and local attractions. This means you will be able to explore the city without having to worry about transportation costs or time constraints. Furthermore, many service apartments also offer special discounts if you book longer stays or multiple nights – so you get great value for money when booking your accommodation!
https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/0nGfDAtcD1LCGo4RK_VdZTo1r2TItkuI7Dgu1Fm6OqhxsDM0N24Pqr_zbmxQJq_AimG9diG_mMpmCHjvQAopt7TKvb-T2wizhq2yJA1oktJz02MTXa7sykXI9IzPyEl7rg=w1280
Conclusion
Serviced apartment providers also have additional services such as car rentals and airport transfers available upon request so that you can enjoy a hassle-free vacation experience from start to finish! All these features combine to make staying in a service apartment ideal for anyone looking for luxury living at an affordable rate – with no compromises on quality or comfort!
Source URL- https://sites.google.com/view/service-apartments-delhi-7/home
#vacation rentals in delhi#service apartments noida#service apartments in south delhi#service apartments gurgaon#service apartments delhi
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Canberra, the capital city of Australia, offers a range of famous and luxury accommodations that cater to the discerning traveler. Known for its cultural landmarks, natural beauty, and vibrant atmosphere, Canberra provides a selection of prestigious and high-end hotels that ensure a memorable and indulgent stay. These renowned accommodations showcase elegance, exceptional service, and luxurious amenities, making them ideal for travelers seeking an unforgettable experience in the heart of Australia's capital.
Main Points
Hotel Realm: Located in the prestigious suburb of Barton, Hotel Realm is a luxurious accommodation option in Canberra. It offers stylish rooms and suites, fine dining restaurants, a day spa, and access to the state-of-the-art fitness center. The hotel is known for its elegant design, impeccable service, and proximity to major landmarks and attractions.
Hyatt Hotel Canberra: Set in a heritage-listed building, the Hyatt Hotel Canberra is renowned for its timeless elegance and luxurious ambiance. Guests can experience spacious rooms and suites, exquisite dining options, a relaxing spa, and beautiful landscaped gardens. The hotel's prime location near Lake Burley Griffin and Parliament House adds to its appeal.
Hotel Kurrajong Canberra: This historic hotel holds a special place in Canberra's history, having hosted political figures and dignitaries. It offers beautifully appointed rooms with a blend of heritage charm and modern amenities. Guests can enjoy fine dining, a fitness center, and easy access to key attractions like the National Gallery of Australia and the Australian War Memorial.
East Hotel: Combining contemporary design with a vibrant atmosphere, East Hotel offers stylish and spacious apartments suitable for both short and long stays. The hotel features a range of amenities including a restaurant, bar, gym, and complimentary bikes to explore the city. Its location in the trendy suburb of Kingston adds to its appeal.
The Diamant Hotel: Nestled in the NewActon precinct, The Diamant Hotel is renowned for its avant-garde design and artistic ambiance. The hotel showcases boutique rooms and suites adorned with unique artwork and offers a range of amenities including a restaurant, bar, and fitness center. Its proximity to cultural institutions like the National Film and Sound Archive and the Canberra Theatre Centre makes it a popular choice among art enthusiasts.
Burbury Hotel: Situated within the Realm Precinct in Barton, Burbury Hotel offers contemporary luxury with spacious rooms and suites featuring modern decor and stunning views of the city. Guests can indulge in fine dining at the hotel's rooftop restaurant and bar, enjoy access to the Realm Precinct's facilities, and explore nearby attractions such as the National Gallery of Australia and Parliament House.
Brassey Hotel: Housed in a charming heritage-listed building, Brassey Hotel offers elegant rooms and suites with a touch of old-world charm. Located within the leafy suburb of Barton, the hotel provides a tranquil retreat while still being close to major attractions. Guests can enjoy dining at the hotel's restaurant, relax in the gardens, and explore nearby landmarks such as the National Library of Australia and Lake Burley Griffin.
Conclusion
In conclusion, Canberra boasts a selection of famous and luxury accommodations that cater to the needs of discerning travelers. Whether it's the elegant Hotel Realm, the historic Hyatt Hotel Canberra, the artistic ambiance of The Diamant Hotel, or the contemporary luxury of East Hotel, each accommodation offers unique experiences and top-notch amenities. With their prime locations, proximity to major attractions, and impeccable service, these accommodations provide a luxurious and memorable stay in the heart of Australia's capital city.
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Packing: Self-Supported + Hotel Tour
(part 2 of 5) I'm gradually going through past trip notebooks and random Google Docs and jotting down all my packing lists in one place.
For a week-long ride like Berlin->Copenhagen which is self-contained but involves staying in hotels every night and is not far from civilization, I pack fairly light, since I have to carry everything on the bike and don’t have to carry camping gear or significant food or bike repair tools. This type of trip often involves a few days after the riding in a city, so I want clothing I feel comfortable walking around or going out to a restaurant in.
A good list for me for what I can fit in two small panniers (in addition to the tools / accessories / etc already on the “always on the bike” list):
Clothes:
(2x) padded bike shorts, to wash alternate pairs in hotel sink each night (3x is more convenient in case one doesn't dry in time)
(2x) quick-dry boxers (also to wash in sink)
(6x) socks
(2x) wool t-shirts to bike + walk in (assuming moderate climate)
(1x) long shorts (to wear over padded shorts, with pockets)
(1x) basic sleeping t-shirt
light gym shorts (to change into immediately at end of ride to “let everything breathe”)
small pack towel, mostly for impromptu swimming stops (since hotels will have towels)
bathing suit (redundant a bit w/ gym shorts)
flip flops
bike cap
rain shell / windbreaker
jeans (wore on plane, then packed away and saved to dress more presentably in the evening or on "city days")
one light + fast-drying long-sleeve shirt
one warmer button-up shirt (worn onto plane, then does dual duty as warmth or "looking more presentable in restaurant")
I just ride in regular shoes that are good for walking as well
Electronics + Paper:
outlet adapter
phone charger + cable
bike computer + microUSB cable
front and rear lights (also microUSB rechargeable)
noise-canceling headphones (a luxury, helps with sleeping on international flight, may skip next time)
larger USB battery pack (enough to recharge everything overnight in case of a hotel without enough working outlets for me + travel partner)
notebook and two pens (having your own pen is frequently useful at border crossings)
kindle or paper book
phrasebook
passport / ID / vax certificates / etc depending on trip
Other:
panniers (ideally with external pockets or ability to ride open-top to hold bulkier items like bottle of olive oil / wine / beer, loaf of bread, etc)
dopp kit
several days of my favorite pick-me-up snacks
safety pins (quick garment repair + clean out debris in phone port), duct tape, zip ties
map
masks
a few Covid rapid tests
earplugs
extra ziplock bags
two trash bags (for double-bagging possessions in panniers in heavy rain)
backup pair of glasses
Sometimes I add:
waterproof pants and shoe covers (useful in rain, but I also find they get sweaty easily, and in the heaviest rain I find water still finds a way in after a few hours, and they take up a lot of space). A blog reader suggested looking up "Rain Legs"
full-finger gloves for cold days
other warm clothing as needed, though I find I rarely want legwarmers or other base layers beyond the above
instant coffee / a few teabags, in case of a very basic hotel or airBNB that doesn't provide them or has late breakfast hours
bug repellent
Looking back this seems like a long list, but this all (barely) fit in the two small panniers above, and those panniers fit in the small tote bag below that I used to carry or check them as "one item":
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