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buttercupblu · 4 months ago

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God is Fair|The Lost

Devotional Love with Suguru x Reader|Three-Shot

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3

the deets: sweet reminiscences of a wandering youth in a winter before a spring. you and suguru are older now and on wildly different but similar paths, you just don't know it yet. w.c: 11.4k out of still dk yet pls send help tags: fem!reader, alcohol consumption (don't drink and drive, this is a FIC for a reason plsss and ty), slight coercion, party dr*g use, territorial tendencies, a lil bit of sadism, hair pulling, lip locking, a bit o' biting, fingering, orgasm denial, a hint of emotional manipulation/gaslighting if you have brain angel’s note: don't ask me why these keep getting longer, okay? exposition loves to grab me by the throat and throttle me, idk what to say— earworm 🐛: Nangs|Tame Impala

This fucking sucks.

Napkins. Straw. Sauce...ranch? No. Barbeque. Tea. Fuck, gotta make more tea.

You were exhausted. A bit sweaty. Reeking of fryer grease and beef.

"Welcome to Shake Shack!"

And employed.

You took what felt like your 1000th order of the day, trapped in a vicious cycle of dropping baskets of fries into the fryer, then rushing back to the register to enter what you'd memorized. Often barely avoiding a crash with your co-worker who manned the grill as you cut the tight corner just as the next customers pulled up to the window.

In a town surprisingly smaller than yours, there was a high price to pay for being short-staffed.

For you, that meant having the all-too-often privilege of being the drive-through cashier and fry station manager while working with just two other team members who were also drowning on this sinking ship.

Slipping the last fry in, you finished bagging the hefty order and took and breath.

Work and college were wringing you by the neck, but things could be worse, and you handed the customer their order with a smile.

"Have a great day!"

"My tea?"

Shit—forgot it just that fast.

After waiting all of 30 seconds (give or take) for you to brew and sweeten it to perfection, the customer sped off with it with a grumble. You sighed, leaning your back against the drive-thru window. Your front register co-worker slowly peeked around the corner, having heard the skidding tires. You only shook your head and shrugged. Patience is a virtue.

The air felt so lovely, you thought during break, rubbing your arms and plopping onto a bench outside. It was always so chilly in the restaurant because...shakes, but they should allow you wear a jacket at least.

You pulled up a chair for your feet and slumped back with an exhale. Not a second into your break and you brain was still racking with thoughts.

Not of work, but of next week's exam. And your labs, and your lazy ass lab partner, and your 10-page paper and just...school in general.

You weren't failing, far from it, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to walk the fine line between getting B's and getting by. The major you chose made sure of that—healthcare was no joke.

But neither were you.

Never once a quitter, you'd rather torture yourself with the woes of medicine than admit defeat. Proving yourself day after day as you pushed through the BS, big and small.

Like your chem teacher—you got a headache anytime you thought about him. Accent thicker than molasses that you can't quite place, the guy wore a permanent resting bitch face and never seemed to want to be there.

With so much attitude pent up inside such a small man who was hell-bent on unleashing it, it was a good day if he didn't go off on someone over something as simple as not understanding the words coming out of his mouth.

It had to be his favorite excuse to never explain anything during class when eventually everyone would give up and blankly stare him in the face.

You were sure he got off on being a shit teacher with a crutch called tenure. Ending every semester with a smile as he passed around teacher reviews, knowing your responses were worthless—just like your social life.

Freshman and sophomore year had been the best for late night and regrets in the morning, but junior year? Whopped your ass.

Time for games or friends was over. Textbooks and Shake Shack were your best friends.

You took off your visor that always hugged a little too tight around your voluminous hair, immediately feeling relief before looking at the logo that mocked you.

The money your dad set aside, plus what he'd been saving since you were a baby, was enough to cover most of your expenses, but not all.You had to buy a car, textbooks, and other unexpected but totally avoidable costs that couldn't be covered for...reasons.

But it was fine.

Everything was fine.

School was...doable, and work was preparing you for independence and trust, Miss Independent was in her bag. It wasn't all bad, you thought, fiddling with the neon star on your lanyard. The cool metal nestled between your fingers was a constant reminder of when things were a little easier—you smirked—and the most unforgettable night of sophomore year.

Parties weren't foreign to you during undergrad—scratch that—you weren't foreign to parties who knew your name by heart. But most of them leading up to that night were always mildly disappointing.

Hollywood had painted a very vivid picture of college life, but for you and your roomie, the beginning of undergrad had been painfully black and white.

It wasn't that neither of you, especially Yuki, didn't try. Sometimes, you'd even end up somewhere sketch, following behind Yuki who was always chasing a thrill.

No, it was because there were really only two options for a quote-on-quote "good night": a sweaty, over-packed, testosterone-filled Frat sausage party with shit music and even shittier guys or an on-campus, alcohol-free, school-organized event with crowds of less than 20 that always ended before midnight.

Anywhere else actually worth a damn was 21 and up and off-limits to underaged 19-year-olds like the two of you. To you, they weren't even worth bringing up, but Yuki liked a challenge. A third option was always on the table. And one night, she swore she knew how to get your entire group on the scene and into a rave. All it took was a little finesse and a little dress. And bearing the cold of the December weather in tight skirts and fishnet shirts.

"Yuki, I swear to God," your words vibrated with each shiver, "If we don't get in—"

"You worry too much." She looked over the long line of heads in front of your group.

All week, she'd been going on and on about how "This weekend was going to kiss ass!", with the most boastful look on her face. She was only one year ahead of you but swore the connects she made her freshman year would come in clutch and be there that night. But after everything that happened in high school, you were such a worry wart now.

Always wanting to be sure everything went according to plan and worked out as it should. Especially once you calmed down after losing your shit and running around like a complete lunatic freshman year of college. But by the end of that year, things felt...off. Now you wanted to take sophomore year easy. But Yuki wasn't having it.

Once goosebumps began to creep up your skin as you took wobbled steps towards the front of the line, it was do or die.

Music bumped into your ears, battling your beating heart as you passed the crowd of annoyed faces who'd been waiting for God knows how long to get in. Yuki took long, runway-model strides. Eating up the lethal looks you and your group were getting for being so bold until she stood face to face with security.

His gaze traveled across Yuki's snug black leather shorts and matching thigh-high boots as she rested her hand on her hips, making him smirk.

"Hey, we're on the list," she said cooly, chin high as she ran a hand through her long blonde tresses. "Under Rico."

His smirk disappeared. "Who?"

"*scoff* Rico. Big Rico." She said like it was obvious.

"I don't know that name."

Oh no. Eyes wide, you shifted, hovering just under Yuki's shadow as you clung to her arms for warmth.

You were freezing, nearly nude, feet screaming from only a short walk, and now at risk of being embarrassed in front of a line of irritated individuals who'd probably been praying on your downfall the second you all beelined to the front.

The threat of being turned away burned hot in your cheeks. But Yuki kept her cool. "We should be under Rico." She gave him her name and the rest of the group's, but security quickly scrolled through his tablet and shook his head.

"Oh wait," he stopped at the bottom, "Yeah, Rico. Right here."

Yes!

"He's already gone in, but uh, he didn't mention any extras."

Fuck!

You told Yuki that you guys would be late while she was taking her sweet time getting ready.

Then security gave your group a slow lookover, but not in a 'I'm falling for your slutty outfits and checking you out' kind of way Yuki was hoping for. "You guys got IDs?"

Your heart dropped to your ass. You gaped like a fish.

fuckfuckfuck. You knew you were screwed anything you saw even a smidge of panic on Yuki's usually fearless face.

The situation she swore she had a surefire way to avoid blew right through her and the rips on the sides of the t-shirt she purposely wore to seduce her way out of trouble.

Curse words filled your head, ready to fire them off at Yuki the moment you got back to her car.

She had to think fast.

"Yeah, we um—"

"They're with us."

Your heads snapped toward the voice in unison and you had to crane your neck around Yuki's towering stature to find it, but find it you did—belonging to a Mr. Tall, Blonde, and Handsome—standing right off the entrance to the rave with a drink in hand and eyes firmly locked on you.

"'Bout time you got here, Yuki. Friends." He nodded your way.

You? Us?

For a second, you knew he had to be mistaken but resisted the urge to look around for whoever he must have been talking to. But his gaze didn't waver.

You exhaled, blushing. Relieved but wondering why this appetizing stranger was coming to your rescue.

"You're with Rico?" security butted in.

"Yeah, yeah." And the stranger waved his wristband in air, a small neon star dangling from it for everyone to see. "Now, let these ladies in. They're freezing." And he winked at you.

Yuki wasted no time brushing past the still-skeptical bouncer, greeting your savior with open arms. "Sorry we're late, dude!" Playing up the act as if she'd done it a million times before, and the rest of your group quickly snagged their VIP wristbands before funneling into the booming venue.

It didn't click that you were getting in scot-free until the stranger looked back at you, waiting and holding the door open with a nod. "Coming?"

Your feet couldn't carry you fast enough, rushing forward as he took the last wristband, and secured it snugly around your wrist before flicking the neon star, looking down on you. "Perfect," he smirked. And for the sake of your steadily increasing heartbeat, you could only nod and avoid looking him in the eye.

Damn, what luck. And you slipped inside.

You had an idea of what crossing the threshold into the rave would be like, but your imagination fell unbelievably short.

Instant sensory overload—pulsing beats thumped through your chest, vibrating through the floor and into your bones. Vibrant strobe lights sliced through the dense fog of smoke machines, mixing with the heady air thick with the scent of sweat, perfume, and a faint aroma of smoke.

Every corner seemed alive, packed with swirling seas of bodies moving in sync with the relentless EDM rhythm and snatching so much of your attention that you almost forgot your manners.

"Thanks! Thank you!" you tried to shout, feeling yourself slowly defrost in the humid, rave air. "And Rico."

Stretching your arms out, you admired how the fluorescent purple lights made your shirt, neon nails, and cute new star accessory glow in the hazy darkness. They subtly reflected on the stranger's muscle tee you didn't realize was so close to you. Becoming aware of his gaze at the same time he caught yours.

His drifted over your fishnet shirt, white, tight, and highlighting your already glistening skin adorn with oils and powders—yours drew to his silver eyebrow piercing then to the colorful ink cascading from behind his ears, down his neck, and disappearing into his shirt.

He looked like an undergrad student but would've had to start on a piece like that years ago to finish something so intricate that also flowed onto his arms.

Would his chest be tattooed, too? Now you were staring at it.

Blushing, you looked away, realizing you were actually chest level with a man who practically towered over you.

"Who's Rico?"

Your brows furrowed at the same time a glimmer of light caught a sneaky piece of jewelry, snug on the corner of his bottom lip. Smugly smiling, he held out his hand, urging you to take it.

What the fu—

For the second time that night, you were speechless.

Confusion flickered across your face as you hesitated, studying his confident vibe and easy smile that invited you to continue to trust him.

That calm and collected aura that had finessed your way into a forbidden space when you were ready to throw in the towel and give Yuki the old "I told you so."

Something about him was tempting—maybe the air of mystery draping over him that made you both curious and cautious.

Amidst the chaotic surroundings and nerves settling down after winging your luck, his so-sure presence demanded your attention. But it also made you wonder what he was doing it all for.

Regardless, it wasn't the time to get all psychological. Yuki and the others were already far ahead, soon to be lost in the crowd if you didn't catch up.

He bit his lip, watching your reservations gradually melt away as you nervously took his hand and returned his smile—welcoming yourself aboard the first ride of the night.

He easily parted the sea of people as you followed behind, almost immediately finding your group thanks to your roommate. Always easy to find, she unironically stands out in a crowd—tall, loud, and bursting with energy like everyone else lived in her background.

After socking her in the arm hard enough to bring her down a little for leaving you behind, your unofficial guide for the night suggested you all hit the bar for a round of shots, his treat.

Yuki held her hand to her chest with a smile, immediately forgetting the dull pain in her arm. Leaning in close to you, she whispered, "Okay, Mr. Moneybags." And he soon returned with an amount of alcohol that could rival a Frat Party.

Picking a shot up from the tray, he toasted, "To a great night."

"A kick-ass night!" Yuki added, and you rolled your eyes but clinked shots.

The neon green liquid that looked like coolant and battery acid had a baby flooded your system, making you wince with each swallow. Fruity, sour, and stronger than anything you'd had before. It set your insides of fire, and you tried your best not to show it, but Mr. Calm, Cool, and Collected thought it was cute.

"I'm not a kid," you commented when he suggested you slow down on the shots you were clearly struggling with. Damn Yuki and her 'see a shot, take a shot' rule. She'd always start with two and made sure everyone kept up with each other. "You don't have to baby me."

But how couldn't he with a pout that cute sitting on your face flushed from the eccentric liquor?

"Why'd you help us anyway?" you asked, leaning on the table your group surrounded.

He mimicked your actions, sharp brown eyes glinting as he explained that he was simply a Good Samaritan who happened to be in the right place at the right time to help some girls in need. "Some really cute ones," he said into your ear.

Your cheeks warmed—and not just from the alcohol—as he drew back just close enough to barely graze your ear with his soft lips.

He was flirting.

And you were a terrible flirt—always residing in the back seat, never driving the car. Letting things happen to you instead of engaging. An approach that almost always ended in disappointment.

But there he was, this sinfully attractive man, openly vying for your attention—and shamelessly unafraid to say it. Clearly already into you, evident by his increasingly intimate actions, and assumed you were too because you were still in his face and hadn't run off just yet.

So you wouldn't need to do much more, right? Just do what you've seen in the movies.

Pretending to be unfazed, you brushed off his compliment with a smile, tucking a braid behind your ear. "So...knight in shining armor, you got a name?"

He chuckled and straightened his stance, suddenly making you feel even smaller than before.

"Naoya," he smirked.

You raised your next shot, bright and pink like your shiny lipgloss. "To Naoya," you toasted, quickly downing it with a sly smile that said you were far from innocent. But the OPs couldn't stand to see you be great, sending a dribble to free-dive down the corner of your mouth.

Cupping your chin before you could react, Naoya swiped his thumb across your skin and nonchalantly placed it in his mouth.

"Sweet."

And good fucking God, you didn't know if he was talking about the drink or you. Watching him subtly roll his thumb between his lips made you exhale regardless. Just like—

Thankfully, Yuki came to your rescue, pulling you into the lively crowd before you could probably do or say something stupid.

Unrestrained laughter echoed from your circle, dancing to the pulsating beats.

Yuki, always the life of the party, twirled and pulled everyone into her orbit—your group and strangers alike—while Naoya stuck close. Every few minutes or so he'd mingled with the group he came with, letting them put a dent in most of the shots he bought, but he had a different interest in mind. Stealing flirty peeks at you as you bounced to the techno beat, effortlessly drawing your attention back to him, even in a sea of lingering gazes.

Each time your eyes met, a thrill shot through you that was both exciting and slightly unnerving.

The magnetism between you was undeniable, but another part of you wondered if you were getting too much into your head. Whether it was simply lust making him devour you with his eyes or if it was really just you. There was always the chance he could be just like all the others. And a waste of your time.

But you could only ping-pong your thoughts for so long, and in the end, the thrill of what-ifs, alcohol, and a hint of rebuked behavior outweighed your apprehension until it wasn't enough to matter.

Silly, even.

His attention was simply more intoxicating than the alcohol coursing through your veins.

Just the thought of being the focus of someone so undeniably captivating was enough to entice you to stay within his sight, kick caution to the curb, and give him a show.

Hungry glances swarmed your way, but Naoya just stood back and took you in.

Flashes of your supple cheeks under your reflective skirt, your hair brushing the nape of your neck in those high, perfectly grippable pigtails. Fleeting thoughts of how they'd look in his hands.

A sway here, a caress of your body there, and it was easy to lock him in. Making him give less than a fuck about the "competition" or how they nearly broke their necks to get a glimpse of you.

Because as he watched your fingers lazily glide up your velvety thighs, over your chest, and up your tender neck without a second of broken eye contact between you, he knew this meal was just for him.

And so the night went. Playing the Yandere game. Occasionally being stolen by Yuki or one of the girls to build up a sweat and tease the crowd with bumps and grinds and lingering hands on each other's waists. Syncing with one another. All of you lost in the moment and savoring the night that was far from over.

Until you blinked and a few hours had passed, drenched clothes clung to every body, the once-exuberant crowd thinned out, and the blinking venue lights signaled that the night's event was drawing to a close.

Yuki's face couldn't have been more distraught as she smoothed her sweaty hair back to showcase her pouting face. "What the fuck, dude, it feels like we just got here??"

You opened your mouth, ready to scold her and remind her that, once again, this was entirely her fault for being slower than a DMV line while getting ready, but decided it wasn't worth your breath.

However, Yuki's infectious energy was raging at its peak with no signs of fading, and made sure everyone knew. But what could you do?

Choke your anxiety down and try your luck again with another club, or God forbid, crawl back to frat parties?

Staying in the dorms and bingeing Rom-Coms and junk food would be more entertaining.

Still, Yuki made her problem everyone else's—whining and groaning. Loudly protesting that the fun was just getting started and going on as if her soul was being crushed. Theater was robbed the day she majored in Sociology.

So dramatic. And it should've been easy to say you were fine with calling it a night and returning to your much warmer bed.

But that would've been a lie.

Just a teeny tiny itty bitty one. But big enough to matter.

And you internally rolled your eyes so hard you could almost see stars.

Because Naoya was the reason why.

God, you hated yourself.

The promise of something more was enough to blow hearts into your eyes as it snuck in and wrapped you in its clutches. Trapping you in one of the most intense instances of sexual chemistry you'd felt in a while—budding, simmering, and patiently waiting to spill over.

It was mildly irritating, your mind filling with thoughts of where things could go with this guy you barely knew. That little pinch of hope for a chance of something happening—even after playing hard to get all night.

You wondered if you'd ever see him again.

Ah well. That's nightlife for you.

It was fun while it lasted, but Yuki's voice brought you back to reality, growing increasingly more annoying as your hearing started to return to normal.

Seconds away from you throttling her and telling her to grip, Naoya made his presence known again, having overheard Yuki's pleas to extend the night.

"I know a spot."

Surprise failed you because, of course he did.

Mr. "I know, Rico." It was kinda weird Yuki hadn't asked about Rico the second you all stepped inside but with the crowd as thick as it was earlier, finding him would've been nearly impossible anyway.

But this was too perfect—the savior suddenly swooping in twice in one night with open arms and no hint of wanting more. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe your super quiet, nearly non-existent hopes and prayers for a main character moment had been answered.

But you weren't young enough to be that much of an idiot.

Still, was it a bit silly to be so sketch? Second-guessing this "Good Samaritan"? This casual guy tucking his thumbs in his pockets and holding a self-assured, but trusting smile whom you didn't know from a can of paint?

The back and forth was exhausting.

As if reading your thoughts, his head slightly tilted, signaling the words you wouldn't say.

Could you? Would you?

The unspoken questions hung in the air like Yuki clung to your shoulders, practically begging you to live a little.

Either the night ended there or could evolve into something new.

You just had to use your words.

But a sigh was enough to make Yuki squeal, answer in hand before you could speak.

"Let's gooo," and she beelined out of the rave just as they were shutting down the bar and switching on the lights.

Goosebumps made an abrupt comeback. The transition from humid rave heat to brisk winter air instantly sobered your group, seeping into your pores and drying your sweat.

After making sure Yuki was good to drive, you practically ran to her car. Coincidently sitting just a row over from Naoya's.

Yuki gawked at the sleek, red sports car. "Well, color me impressed." Its blinding headlights flickered as Naoya unlocked it.

You hadn't known someone with a car that nice since the Geto's.

"Follow me to the next spot?" he laughed, leaning on the car's roof.

If there weren't so many of you, he'd tell all of you to hop in and make yourselves comfortable, but he also knew your guards would be up—as they should.

His head tipped at Yuki, but he kept his eyes on you. "Keep her safe, ya?" And ducked into the car.

Your face didn't feel so cold after that.

"Girl."

You squinted in disbelief.

"Is this a junkyard?"

In the middle of old car parts and rusting scraps of metal, a steel warehouse glimmered in the moonlight, confirming that it was. Strobe lights shot out, lighting the bubble of space in the darkness as it came into view.

And just when you thought there had to be some mistake, some wrong turn taken at some point down the long, dark gravel road through the trees, Naoya's car cruised through the chain-link fence, finally stopping in the dirt path after the 30-minute drive outside the city limits.

This was unreal.

Alt Rock—Phoenix?—vibrated through Yuki's car, barely contained by the warehouse walls as it blasted into the open air.

"What the..." You lost your words for the third damn time that night.

The hell is this? Who is this guy???

Asking questions had been the least of Yuki's concerns earlier. Or during the lengthy drive there as you repeatedly asked her if she knew where you guys were. She was just happy to have her prayers to keep the night going and finish burning energy answered—damn how—and repeatedly said you guys would be fine.

But a warehouse?? A damn warehouse???

An after-hours club, house party, hell, even a dive bar came to mind when Naoya said he knew a spot.

What a spot to know and you noticed the numerous cars scattered throughout the dirt yard as you looked around.

Black leather skirts and oversized jackets littered the crowd. Ripped stockings and Demonia's hugged nearly every leg.

This was a scene you weren't familiar with, not that you discriminated, but other than Yuki, the rest of you would be glaringly sticking out like a sore thumb. Neon colors clearly weren't the move here, and you all looked like walking glow sticks in a sea of scene kids and black lipstick—sure to be noticed the second you stepped out of the car.

You knew you should've trusted your gut.

"At least the music's good," Yuki said as if reading your thoughts. Her head bobbed to the seductive beat. “🎶He’s just tryna be cooool.🎶”

You could strangle her.

"C'mon, lighten up," she said, unfazed by your distressed face. "Think of it as an adventure." She turned to the back seat. "Right girls?"

Shoko had stopped caring long ago, and Utahime, still buzzing from the rave, was down for whatever.

Freshman year you probably would've shaken you by your shoulders and called you a pussy by now.

But why were you acting brand new? You knew what this was. Been knew from the moment you agreed to go out with Yuki this weekend that something as crazy as this happening had always been on the table.

She was always so daring, so spontaneous and unpredictable. Always relaxed and in control no matter the situation—all of what drew you into her in the first place. The perfect roommate.

She reminded you of what you used to be—what you were trying to get back to. Even if it meant repeatedly pressing all of your buttons.

You pinched your brows together, secretly regretting the day you born.

"Fine."

"Fuck yeah!" And not a second later, her car whipped into a makeshift parking spot so fast you almost got whiplash.

Just ahead, Naoya hopped out of his car, cooly walking up. "Ha, you made it," he joked, but your resting bitch said nothing was funny.

"Okay, okay, look, I know what this looks like," he began, apologizing for not giving you guys a heads-up. But trust me."

A breeze danced across his face, tousling his bangs and showing off the subtle glint in his pretty brown eyes. And as if on cue, his lips curled into the signature smile you knew was coming, once again offering his hand.

"Will you?"

...Godfkindammit.

What the hell is happening here?

Those butterflies just would not give you a break. And neither would Yuki if you turned him down, especially after coming this far already.

You cursed under your breath and took his hand, hoping the flutters would go away, but only passed them on to him.

His lip ring flashed as he smiled, his fingers lacing with yours.

"Super sweet."

And welcomed you into his territory.

Throughout your life, you've learned that looks can be deceiving. And if you had forgotten, example A stood front and center in that moment.

On first glance, it may have looked like a glaring OSHA violation, but what the warehouse lacked on the outside, it made up for with a jaw-dropping inside.

Head falling back, you marveled at the intricate web of large steel beams weaving throughout the vaulted ceiling. Dancing light bounced off the metal, one-up the rave and casting colorful shadows on the floor, walls, and everyone inside.

Drum-heavy bass and gritty guitar riffs ripped through the speakers, welcoming you. Pulling you into an underground world that was very welcoming to Naoya too.

A hot commodity, nearly every face you saw couldn't help but smile and greet him on the walk-in. Unable to resist his charm. Pandering for even a hint of attention even though his hand remained fixed on you, pulling you through the crowd and bringing a blush to your face. It was clear you were his guest.

Oak and orange blossom clashed with the sharp tang of industrial machinery, heavily perfuming the air thanks to the dense, edgy crowd, but at least it wasn't as packed as the rave. Quite the opposite actually—the space here was wide open, yet surprisingly insulated against the cold. It'd be hard to get lost, but you still told Yuki not to run off because you knew what was coming next.

"Shot o'clock!"

Surprising.

And this time, they were on her.

"A toast, to Naoya." The glass glistened in the lights as she held it high. "And this totally cool spot."

She linked arms with Shoko and Utahime and they tossed their shots back together. Leaving you out—no doubt on purpose.

Naturally, Naoya looked to you, completely oblivious to the ritual but willing to play along if you were.

You steeled your nerves, deciding to get the girls back for that later, and snaked your arm around his muscled one. Snug. Close. No big deal. People totally don't do super intimate things like this at weddings or anything.

Looking him in the eye, you grinned. "To you again." And downed the shot in sync, feeling the cool liquid slide down your throat. Spreading a fuzzy feeling through your body all over again and helping you settle into the reality of the night.

This environment was different.

There was an air of exclusivity in the space—his vibe—this place meant for the in-crowd—something to be a part of that he had access to and personally invited you into.

Like remnants of high school. Drawing you in like a magnet.

And this time, you stuck close to Naoya. Baiting his attention again.

His lingering gaze drew curious glances from your friends that you were quick to brush off, but even you couldn't ignore the nuzzle heat from the way his eyes bore into your swaying frame.

As if you weren't already fully aware, your favorite two-toned brunette, Utahime, kept raising eyebrows at you and tipping her head his way real "smooth-like". Totally not right in front of him where it was super noticeable and embarrassingly obvious.

When she got fed up with your shy act, she lovingly wrapped her arms around your neck, making you both sync to the beat. With a slightly tipsy smile on her face, she said just loud enough for you to hear, "Go get that dick." And quickly twirled you around until you posted right in front of Naoya.

A ditzy look plastered on your face as you froze. Slowly meeting his eyes with a flushed look of embarrassment that pulled a smile out of him. You looked so cute trying to hold yourself together and seem unbothered. But if it weren't for the alcohol swimming through your system, you might've bailed.

Yet, liquid courage ran through you, hell-bent on making you step into your bad bitch shoes because confidence lived in your blood.

If there was any chance of finding out if this was real or not, it was now never.

Eyes locked—his having never stopped eyefucking you—you both smirked. With a tip of your hand and slightly wobbly knees, you invited the man who made you ache between your thighs to dance.

With a small laugh, he gently bit his lip, finding you cute enough to plant a kiss on your wrist then pull you close. "About time," he said, fingers digging into your waist.

What a pretty face you made when you were surprised. But you surprised him right back when you twirled around, your ass grazing his front as you closed the gap between you.

If he was going to beg for your attention, he had to prove he could handle it, and gradually, you relaxed enough to dance—curves winding in beat with the flowy rhythm—enticing him to take the bait and dance his hands along your waist. Syncing rhythm, closeness, and heat to slowly rebuild a sweat.

Your head, light as a feather, fell back against his chest, exposing your shimmery neck. Sugary sweet scents you doused yourself in earlier drew him into your sweet spot, stifling your breath as his grazed your skin, erasing your final remnants of hesitation.

The instinct to draw your hands to his hair reminded you that the freedom to let go was a drug. A heady, intoxicating sensation that mingled with the pleasure of his hands slipping along your thighs and climbing up your sides like ecstasy until you opened your hazy eyes and stared it in the face. Pale blue, tiny, and snug between his peace fingers.

Gasping, you swiftly faced a grinning Naoya.

"What is—"

"X", he replied so casually, as if he hadn't just practically shoved a drug in your face without warning.

What the hell was with this guy???

The anxiety you worked to snuff out all night quickly clawed its way out.

From the moment you met Naoya, he'd been a walking enigma who kept going for broke.

The borderline reckless and carefree attitude could even one-up Yuki's, and freshman you definitely couldn't hold a candle. At least the unhinged version of you knew better than to throw caution to the wind and go around looking for randos who happen to do dRUGS???

What if you were like an undercover cop or something, you thought, crossing your glitter-covered arms.

Was his brain constantly on go—never taking a second to think before acting—or was he so confident in himself that he didn't care if others judged him?

It kinda sounded familiar...and was awfully cringe to think about.

But fuck that, how often did he do this?? Go around seducing girls, saving the day, then dragging them to nowhere to—

"An adventure."

What?

Aw, fuck.

God, fuck, there she goes again.

Feet away, yet in your ear, in case you thought you could ever escape her.

Yuki's annoyingly convincing voice echoed through your head like peer pressure on steroids, telling you to chill the fuck out and stop overthinking. Asking you in the most mocking tone your brain could conjure up, "What are you so afraid of?"

Sure, you were a virgin to the world of party drugs...but you couldn't say you'd never been curious.

Degrassi, Skins, and shows alike all set the bar for what college life was supposed to look like long ago, and drugs almost always had a seat at the table—glimmering and glamorized all over television. Surrounded by fun and pretty people.

But you knew fuck all about ecstasy outside of what high school Health Ed class said it would feel like: energy and euphoria— compressed into a colorful little pill.

It wasn't...the best argument against it.

Still, you were a little virgin baby. Aside from alcohol, you'd only flirted with Mary Jane, and that was only a couple of times at a few frat parties freshman year. You didn't exactly have a bucket list for drugs.

But there it was, an opportunity presenting itself.

And as skeptical as you were about Naoya—the mystery, the conveniences, the 'too good to be true' personality that kept poking you in the gut—those same yellow flag, along with his cunning, almost taunting demeanor, dared you to step up to the plate.

Even now, his confident gaze swallowed your doe eyes with a look you couldn't turn away from—thumb gently pressing into your waist with a silent reassurance. In a 'you don't have to do it' kind of way that seemed to take all the weight off.

Still, he tipped his head, gave you a firm squeeze and a grin, and said, "Take it with me—if you want." And sat the split pill, SKY written on it in tiny letters, right on the edge of his pink tongue.

You thought about home. And then you thought about the thrill you'd been searching for all your life. God...

If this went wrong, at least the girls were nearby to kick his teeth in.

You swallowed hard.

There was only one way to say yes, and it rushed out of your mouth before Yuki's voice could taunt you again.

"An adventure," you breathed, quickly diving in before anyone could see—wrapping your tongue around his and tasting bitterness on yours. Ignoring your racing heart from the sheer audacity to be so bold.

His lip lingered on yours until he was sure you swallowed the metallic pill, a small string of slick glistening as he pulled away.

"An adventure," he repeated before flashing his trademark smile and pulling your arms around his neck.

It finally hit you what Naoya reminded you of. Something you used to look for on purpose. Something that required a bit of work and a firm resolve.

Effort.

A challenge.

And it was time to play catch up.

Minutes felt like hours waiting for something, anything, to happen, but Naoya's secure grasp held you and your attention as you danced. Firm. Warm. Melting.

Melting?

Indeed melting—fingers dipping into the divots of your hips as if they could sink through like butter—coaxing your head to lazily float back under the wavy touch. Wavering a moment and brushing Naoya's fingertips with the ends of your waist-length pigtails that were growing increasingly easier to grab.

Pretty steel beams. Were they always this mesmerizing? Or close? Like they would sink to your level just so you could grab on. Or maybe you'd always been 20 feet tall and never knew?

Naoya snickered, holding the weight you practically threw into his arms. Admiring the strobes of light bathing your softly rising and falling chest as you fell into a trance—your body turning to jelly before you even realized it was happening.

But the awareness of your suddenly heavy eyelids and increasingly ridiculous thoughts of the ceiling slapped you down to earth, sending you into a mini panic. Head, heavier than ever, pulling forward until your fluttering eyes met Naoya's blown-out gaze. Staring. Drinking in every subtle change in your warm, flushed face.

A satisfied smirk played on his lips, watching your mouth part and breaths slow. Dying to close the imaginary and real gap that opened and shut between you all night until he once again flushed his skin against yours. And this time, a switch flipped; it wasn't just his proximity making your chest buzz. You swore you were sharing vibrations.

Warmth grew in your core at his touch. The oh-so-unbelievably soft yet coarse yet caressible feel of his skin pulsing against yours. Flooding your veins, spreading from your tongue to the tips of your fingers.

You were tingling.

And couldn't stop tingling.

And knew you couldn't stop tingling no matter how hard you tried, and for some reason, the euphoric thought made you break out into an uncontrollable grin.

"There she is." Naoya lifted your chin, vibrant colors blurring together on his face like a kaleidoscope.

All you wanted to do was stare at him, the array of colors on the cement floor, and the dizzying visual rhythm beating with the music. Like Nang was literally seeping into your bones, begging you to float and finally touch those steel beams.

God, you'd never been so happy you made a decision. That you chose to be here—that he chose you—that you trusted Yuki, the girls, and yourself enough to get out of your rut and end up here. In the arms of a guy you wanted nothing more than to finally give in and slob down from head to toe for being so hot and intoxicating and slyly nibbling on his lip ring every single time you locked eyes.

"Here I am," you said, teasing a grin you hoped was as good as his. Feeling alive, truly alive for the first time that year—completely immersed in the chaotic blend of lights, sounds, and bodily surrealism. Bliss peeled away your breath as his feverish hands danced along your body in a way that was too much and never enough.

Dainty fingers found your outstretched neck, pleasure etching on your face as you caressed the sensitive areas begging to be touched. Fingertips, music, ego, and air binding like sex in a sinful combo—evident by the full display of the undercuff of your ass, eliciting stifled moans from Naoya as your hips swirled into him.

That state of you was telling, and he hoped he didn't give you too much, but your ass looked so goddamn perfect, molding around the growing ache in his already tight jeans. Like you were trying to pull something out of him, but he only laughed to himself because he was sure you'd actually melt into a puddle if he sank his hands into your plush cheeks.

You looked amazing—you felt amazing—everything was amazing—and should always feel like this, you thought.

This high, this joy, this love—it was universal.

Easy.

So very easy to give and take—and deserving,

Everyone deserved love in some away.

And suddenly you were an ecstasy evangelist, slipping from Naoya's arms into the pulsating crowd.

Naturally gravitating to a drunken Utahime, her swaying form coming into focus with bright and infectious laughter amidst the haze. So happy. So carefree. You just had to have some, reaching out to grab her hand and pull her close.

"Isn't this—your breath felt so light, "—just the best?" You shouted over the music, your voice a mix of exhilaration and disbelief.

You laughed, the sound almost lost amongst the beats, as you tugged Utahime closer. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and amusement, but her attention drew to the sheer ecstasy etched onto your face.

"Seriously," you said, pressing her hand to your chest, "This is everything."

Utahime's smile was warm, but her brows slightly furrowed. "You've, uh, finally come around, ya?"

She hadn't seen this side of you since you'd met. A state that was a little beyond tipsy, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Shoko sidled up—the least drunk in the group—casually draping her arm over the girl you knew she'd been secretly dating since the beginning of the semester. Cigarette tucked behind her ear like she was going out to smoke soon, but holding a knowing grin. Her gaze swept over you, lingering for just a moment too long before she said, "Someone's certainly having a good time."

Correction, you were having a fantastic time. Everyone should be, you thought, so glad to have all of your girls with you before realizing that someone was missing. And like you knew she would, Yuki had run off. Probably huddled up by a wall, towering over some poor guy or girl by now.

But Shoko's tone flew right over your head—the heat of the crowd catching you in its web. Your body hadn't stopped moving since you came into the circle—a complete slave to the contagious energy and music. Leaving your swaying hips all vulnerable, freely out in the open and unattended to.

Such a shame, some guy thought, someone should take care of that.

It wasn't until you felt a pair of hands glue to your waist and heat against your back that you stopped mid-motion. Rough, almost aggressive, and hasty gropes squeezing your hips but losing you in the manic energy. And as if it were a natural extension of the night's chaos, the sensation rolled your body into the unfamiliar touch in a way that felt out of your control.

And pissed Naoya off.

He'd been watching the entire show from where you left him, allowing you to go off to be with your girls, not a slut for anyone else.

He tsked, his usually smooth demeanor cracking as he glared. Watching you casually give away what was his to some random guy. As if he meant nothing. As if you didn't owe him.

And the sight of the guy's face—smug and sleazy as if he'd hit the jackpot—and his grubby hands inching closer to the grand prize between your thighs, sent Naoya right over the edge.

He moved swiftly through the crowd, eyes locked on you, pulling you away so quickly you missed the way his jaw clenched. Grip firm but controlled as he wove pasted a stunned Shoko and Utahime, through the space, and out into the cool night air.

The warehouse loomed above, its graffiti-splattered walls bathed in the glow of the quarter moon. Fingers gliding over the dusty lines, you traced the art, trailing Naoya who pulled you behind him until he reached the back.

He took a deep breath, trying to mask his unexpected jealousy, but the way you were being so ditzy and cute and oblivious to the world only added fuel to the fire.

You didn't mean to, his reaction was just so funny, especially when he looked so flustered trying to hide his lingering scowl with a slick grin that, for the first time that night, didn't reach his eyes.

And you wouldn't stop fucking laughing, even as he kept walking towards you until your back hit the warehouse wall.

But that smile was deceiving.

His hand shot out, grabbing a hold of your face, fingers digging into your cheeks and tilting your chin so he could look into your glazed-over eyes.

"Such a pretty girl," he murmured. your lips feeling like putty as he teased with his thumb,

Though his words seemed sweet, a twinge of unease sparked in your chest watching his eyes turn dark, sadistic. Hungry. The playful facade shattering, earning your undivided attention and bringing your giggles to a halt when you realized he wasn't fucking around.

Your eyes widened. Whatever you'd been teasing all night had finally awoken and stood at your door. Ready to devour your faltering heart as slow, heavy breaths escaped your glossed lips.

He had to taste them.

And did, lips crashing onto yours, teeth and tongue dominating your mouth until you moaned into his.

Your arm wrapped around his neck, searching for leverage against the furious energy, before feeling it pin to the wall. His other hand slipped from your face, ghosting from your jaw to your neck—squeezing lightly, almost growling, and stealing your breath.

He pulled away, his eyes following his finger tracing the maze of net resting over your chest. Taking your glinting belly ring—the perfect match to his lip ring—between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a slight groan from you when he tugged.

He smirked—the face you made when you winced was even prettier than your surprise face. He wondered what other ones he could get out of you.

And just when you thought the torture was over, his fingers slid around your back, finally twisting into one of your pigtails with a pull.

Your head snapped back and his lips attached to your neck, breath hot against your skin as he inhaled your intoxicating scent—biting, sucking, trying to mark you. Mind flashing to the guy he should've punched for even looking at you.

You gasped, being forced to use your free arm to hold onto him when his leg swept between your thighs, propping you up on his knee.

He groaned into your neck—your panties were absolutely ruined—damping his skin with so much stringy slick, he struggled to keep himself from rutting into you.

But your hips wouldn't stop moving even if you tried. Grinding into the friction that felt like fire every time your clit bumped into a rip in his jeans. So disgusting lewd, but you were growing so warm with each pulsing thump. Unashamedly needing more. And painting his skin with juicy kisses.

Damn, he thought, smirking against your skin at your whimpers. Wondering if you'd start panting like a dog in heat as your fucks to give flew out the window. Mind only fixed on the lip-biting flick of your feverish clit that made your walls clench around nothing.

But he wouldn't let you cum that easily. At least not like that. No, he needed to do it himself.

He pinned you still, grip tight on your waist and lips finding yours when you whined from the lost of sensation. Sneaking a hand under your skirt and making you moan into his mouth when he grabbed your ass. Finally feeling your soft and warm and plush curves melt into his fingers.

"I want you," he said between kisses.

Your mews as your pressed into his touch told him you wanted him too, but he needed to hear you say it.

Fingers crawling under your things, he drew slow, long hot lines across your skin until they reached your parted valley. Your breath hitched, knowing where he was heading, but you spread wider, hoping he would hurry and get there faster. Inching closer and closer to your sweet heat with a slow breath, he brought you nearer and nearer to a rapture you seldomly experienced when he suddenly stopped at the precipice.

"Say it."

Your brows furrowed.

"Tell me what you want."

You spit out the only thing you knew. "I want you." And your mouth fell open feeling a warm pad on your clit. His thumb just resting there, feeling you throb through your thin g-string. Waiting to see if you'd be so bold as to hump him again. Whining and writhing instead, you fell prey to the touch that was light to most but dizzying in the world of E.

"You want me to what?"

Your cheeks warmed. God, was he gonna drag it out of you if you didn't say it?

Once more, you latched your mouth onto his to avoid saying so, only to accidentally bite the inside of his bottom lip when two fingers roughly pushed inside you.

"Fuck, you're so tight." And warm and soaked.

He didn't even care that you almost bit a hole into him, only focused on stuffing you full until resistance finally gave way and swallowed his fingers.

Your stomach tightened, legs drawing together only to be blocked by his knee as his fingers swam deeper than the nails you dug into his back until he bottomed out.

Fire grew in your hand, his grip sliding from your arm to pin your wrist. You started to squirm. It was too much at once.

And made Naoya's dick stand on ten watching your body resist but betray itself by continuing to make his fingers glisten in the moonlight.

You poor things who couldn't make up your mind, Naoya thought. Teasing him all night only to run from his fingers.

If you were squeezing that tight around two little digits, he wondered how you'd feel on his dick. How long it would take for your eyes to roll into the back of your head.

How quickly he could pull an orgasm out of you.

He let your arm fall, his slipping under to palm your ass and pull you closer. Tightening around your waist so you couldn't escape his fingers brutally pumping into you.

"ff-fUCK!" A gasp ripped from your chest, your eyes screwing shut at the blazing sin that just rippled through your body.

What was thAT???

A funny button in you was assaulted over and over and over again, forcing your walls to clench on command and send fiery tingles straight to your clit.

Desperate hands scrambled to find purchase around his neck, holding on for dear life. You felt yourself go tense at the relentless rhythm, but even moreso at the unfamiliar face shooting through your core. Slender fingers rutting in and pumping out—running juices down his wrist.

The squelching sounds penetrated your ears, mouth falling open as drool began to dribble down. You felt your brain fizzling out, eyes going cross—he was hitting that same spot over and over and over again. Dragging the breath from your lungs with every dip. And the few whines you failed to suppress that did slip out, couldn't compete with his merciless strokes. Purposefully working an angle that sent swarms of vibrations to your curling toes.

An unfamiliar warmth began to pool in your walls, making his dick twitch feeling your little pulses start to clench around his fingers. You were so close so fast, but then he slowed.

"Now tell me what you want."

You could die.

Literally die from the embarrassment, the desperation, the filthy way you were still trying to steal back even a smidge of that foreign but addicting touch by attempting to wiggle your hips you knew he wouldn't allow out of place—if you weren't hoping to die on his fingers first.

But a desperate pout formed, knowing he wouldn't give it to you without you folding.

And your pathetic pussy begged you to bend.

"I-I wan..." He grabbed your chin when your lips pursed closed, slotting his thumb between them to open them again.

No more hiding, no more silence, no more games.

His other thumb pressed right on your clit, fingers curling and stilling right against that magic button that blew fireworks into your rolling eyes. He was gonna make you talk.

And with a shaky breath, defeated and damn near pleading, you begged. "Please...make me c-cum." Looking at him like you were feeble and yearning. Like his demand was all that mattered. "Please."

There it was.

The submission he'd been waiting for all night.

Flushed cheeks and helpless doe eyes. Puffy lips slowly closing around his thumb and planting desperate kisses.

Neediness staring him in the face.

No longer caring that he literally had you wrapped around his finger.

He smirked, fighting the urge to cum just from sight. Right where he wanted you. Less was said.

You gaped when his knee moved, swiftly falling a few inches before he lifted your thigh—pressing it against the wall to spread you wide.

Sounds of your vinyl skirt stretching ripped through the air, and you should've been worrying about the possibility of it tearing if it weren't for fingers stealing your focus again. He hummed feeling easily slip back in, middle and ring fingers this time to hook perfectly inside and blow your g-spot to absolute smithereens.

Crying out, you almost drew blood from your lip as your body went rigid, clinging to him. The sensation you were just ready to sell your soul for relentlessly spamming on 1000.

If it was borderline too much before, with this new angle that lended him direct access, it was torturously too much now. But he could care less if you clawed his back to death as you tried to run to and run from the mouth-watering intensity.

Your pussy sounded so good for him, making him moan and grind his dick into your thigh like it was an extension of his fingers. Leaving hot kisses on your neck as his thumb drew dizzying circles on your clit. Making your toes flex and shaky foot slowly rise up off the ground. Obliterating what was left of free thought as your breath hitched.

He took in your rapturous face, feeling a rush of power and control surge through his veins. The authority he had over your body as he wrestled moans out of you filled him with an intoxicating sense of dominance.

Every gasp, every tremble, only fueled his intention to give you exactly what you didn't know you needed all night. To completely unravel under his command.

The fiery pool returned with a brain-altering vengeance and your pulses grew stronger and closer until he was absolutely positive you were seconds away from tasting heaven. And looking dead on into your blurry eyes, he finally gave you permission.

"Cum."

And the tight coil ruthlessly snapped. Walls surrendering to the all-consuming touch that sent your eyes rolling as your pussy harshly clenched on his fingers. Body arching into the fervid touch before you stopped breathing and your colorful vision went white.

Pornographic moans finally broke from you, loud and lewd and desperate enough you were sure you could draw a crowd.

And what a sight it was for Shoko to witness the very moment you tumbled into rapture, cigarette she stepped outside to smoke almost slipping from her lips.

The only witness of you climbing aboard the ecstasy train didn't think it would have led you this far, but the pledge you made earlier that year to swear off your freshman-year antics—sex and relationships included—was clearly long forgotten. Utahime didn't believe you, often provoked you even, and Shoko, not knowing you as well, just took our word for it.

But there you were, living out your wildest Skins dream. Holding hands with the Little Death with a side of alcohol and ecstasy. Cries falling on deaf ears and he continued to fuck you through your blinding orgasm.

Main character energy, she thought as she lit her cigarette, turning to leave before she was noticed. Taking note to maybe try that with Utahime one day.

Minutes later, you returned on the scene with Bambi legs, finding Shoko leaning against the entrance door. She stayed up front to make sure you made it back in safely and ignored the slick running down your legs you couldn't clean up until you got to the restroom. Naoya gave her a knowing win as he trailed behind you, but she got a weird feeling.

She was all for you finally having a bit of fun, but there was something specifically about Naoya that didn't sit right with her.

Maybe it was the way he carried himself, too cocky and self-assured. Or maybe it was his sly smirk that seemed to hint at something slightly predatory, looking at you in a way that felt less like affection or even lust and more like possession.

But maybe she was just thinking too hard and this was just a simple hookup you needed to shake off your shackles, put yourself back out there and never see the guy again.

That's what college life was. Hookup, discard, and repeat. Just another wild night to bank in your core memory.

And the night had certainly been beyond magic, and definitely home to one of the most intense orgasms you'd ever had, and when you thought back on it, that was one of the few times someone else managed to get you off...ever. But when you really took a moment to think about it, especially knowing what you know now, the more you chalked it up to probably being because of the drugs.

In actually, the frantically hot and spontaneous encounter that had you talking to God (very...interesting conversation) probably wouldn't have been that great if you were in your right mind, but your intoxicated hormones in the heat of the moment didn't care because it was a hell of a lot better than what you were used to.

Before that night, having big the 'O' during sex was like a myth to you.

Satisfaction either always narrowly escaped your grasp or was never on the table from the beginning, and for a while, you thought it was normal to always be left hot, bothered, and wanting more, ever since you first learned to do the horizontal dance.

Your own satisfaction was never a priority, never thought of or talked about, not even to yourself. With every partner, you made sure they were well taken care of, that they met sweet relief with heavy breaths and a smile on their sweaty faces every time. While your desires laid brushed aside, unspoken and unexplored.

But that night with Naoya was different—he was the first to turn the focus on you, the first time someone had taken care of you, even if it was grasping at straws.

He pined for your attention. He gave you effort. A night full of impulsivity, unpredictability, mystery, and challenge—all wrapped up in a flaming hot bow.

Everything you thought you lost, everything you thought you needed in a boyfriend.

Having one of those was a staple in high school that you missed out on because of your hectic and busy schedule on the road. So when you got to college, you sure knew how to pick them. Freshman year was a joke.

You went through one relationship and one 'situationship' before throwing in the towel in favor of hookups. At least those were less painful and had a clear deadline for when they would end.

No surprises, no heartaches, no one to blame. Just a mutual parting

But Naoya was something you simply could not walk away from, and by the way he stuck to you like glue for weeks, randomly popping up at your campus and whisking you away into his world for hours on end until you made him your boyfriend, neither could he.

Everything about being with Naoya was perfect.

His eagerness to chauffer his passenger princess around in his real-life Hot Wheel, taking you to the coolest spots, just like that night, and introducing you to all kinds of mesmerizing people. Always ending the night with feverish, snaking hot that groped your willing body into submission and made you feel more special than anyone else he could ever know.

His.

The ideal boyfriend: attentive and charismatic. A constant thrill.

A bit too much of a thrill.

Slowly, but surely merging into a slightly loose canon as unexpected droplets of a storm began to form. His charm and attention and lust and want and need for you were still there, but so were the cracks that gradually began to chip and show.

For one, Naoya wasn't in school, which was fine; instead, he called himself an entrepreneur. Though, exactly what he did was always a bit of a mystery.

His days were filled with handling sketchy 'business deals' and half-baked schemes that, over time, almost always failed and ended with him turning to you to help bail him out.

Your brains, your beauty, your sweet charm.

Whatever he could use to settle a deal and handle business.

It was what girlfriends did, you thought. Supporting your man was something you never second-guess, never even questioned as you knew he would have your back as much as you had his.

Until he didn't.

Having a habit of making big promises and diving headfirst into opportunities that almost always seemed too good to be true, that fearless confidence you fell in love with, once landed him in an embarrassing mess.

Weeks spent bragging about a "surefire" investment with one of his partners to not only end up in the red but also behind bars. And on the phone sounding like a kicked puppy. Asking you to bail him out.

It was the first time either of you had been thrust into such a serious situation, even if it was just a small charge, but Naoya swore it wasn't a big deal. Admitting that he had made mistakes but promising his intentions were pure.

"I did it for us," he said, voice lined with shame and apology, repeating that you deserved better but that he was trying—really trying—to give you everything you needed. So full of regret for even slightly jeopardizing what you two had built and you had never heard him so vulnerable and sorry as he promised it would never happen again.

Dragging your heart into the ground.

But as painful as it was to hear your boyfriend plead to save your relationship, nothing could have prepared you for the pain of swiping your card and watching the last of your savings disappear to keep it going.

Making up your mind that this was just another storm to weather amidst the whirlwind of hurricanes that was Naoya because he had been so good to you. Surely you could look over his idiotic mistake and help him out this one time. He only did it for you after all.

To you, he had his quirks. To everyone else, he was shit.

But being there for him kind of reminded you of why you chose healthcare.

Your pocket vibrated, making you let go of your souvenir and memories of that night as you fished out your phone before sighing.

Speak of the Devil, you'd just thought him up.

"Hi, baby."

"Hey babe, how's my Doll?"

You relaxed on the bench, blushing. He sounded like he was in a good mood—always did when he used the little nickname he gave you that made you feel so small and safe.

Stress slowly left your body as you vented about work and how you were not looking forward to getting off only to clock right back in to study for your upcoming exam when you returned to your dorm.

"Aw, baby." You thought you could hear him pout through the phone. "How 'bout we blow off some steam when you're done? A little reward?"

You raised a brow. "Whatcha got in mind?" Hoping it wasn't the usual invitation to just 'solve your problems' with sex or some wild night on the town.

"One of the guys found his Nintendo 64, and I thought we could borrow it and play some games, ya?"

"Oooo," you sat up. "What games?" You hadn't had time to plop down in front of a TV to watch a show, let alone play a game in years.

"Uhh, mostly action, RPG and fantasy. Some kid games like Mario Kart and Lego Racers, but I was thinking we could 1V1 in J-League."

And suddenly, you were back in a familiar living room you hadn't seen in years.

Plush, brown carpet soft beneath your thighs, you sat cross-legged, Wii controller cool in your hands. Room dim, the glow of the TV casts flickering lights across your eyes as sounds of fast-paced music fill your ears.

Suguru nudges your shoulder, "C'mon keep up." And smiles.

And you gently smile back, feeling pulled into the waves of nostalgia. The memory and others alike always so soft, so easy. So comforting to fall into the world of one of the last times you two had fun together, before he made high school hell.

Now you were sure he was off somewhere traveling the world and living his best life.

Your life.

What it was supposed to be.

The walls were back up to shield you from the bittersweet ache.

Naoya was right. Mario Kart was for kids.

"You still there?"

"Ya, babe." You sighed to yourself, reminding yourself that those who needed to be in your life we're here now, not in the past. "I would love to. You're best." You smiled.

He laughs. "In bed, too."

..debatable.

extended angel's note: i hope you guys didn't mind the little "diversion" this story had to take (i am not in control) BUT i promise it all serves a purpose. your basket should be good and full with enough little easter eggs now to finally close out the story in part 3 where it all comes together to absolutely blow your angsty socks (and panties) off. it'll all be worth the wait (is highkey the morale of the story 🤠) thank you for rocking with me

p.s. sorry for the Naoya jumpscare but how are we all feeling about your lovely boyfriend 🤩💗

tag list: @7thsthings @elliesndg @jirishnesensei @blkkizzat

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nectar-cellar · 1 year ago

Note

I feel the most comfortable asking you this but I am STRUGGLING with severe lag in my TS3 game. I just did a clean install, tried smooth patch, took it out bc it was conflicting with Nraas and didn’t make a difference, but it’s still nearly unplayable. I’ve tried every tutorial under the Sun. don’t remember having this issue years ago when I played. Do you have any tips or tutorials that you recommend? TY in advance!

heyy 💛💛

the only tutorial i really followed was the sims 3 performance and bug fix guide hosted on steam which i'm sure most sims 3 players know about. i'm not sure how helpful my answer will be but this is what i would suggest:

smooth patch

i believe nraas and smooth patch conflict in create-a-sim mode, you can't enable master controller's compact mode with smooth patch integrated with it. so what i did was:

first, install smooth patch according to the MTS page instructions. you should have "ld_SmoothPatch" and "ld_SmoothPatch_MasterController" in your Mods/Packages folder

using s3pe, open "ld_SmoothPatch.package"

in the s3pe screen, right-click on the xml thingy named LazyDuchess.SmoothPatch.Tuning

in the right-click menu, click on "Notepad" then make sure kMasterControllerIntegration value = "False"

save and close the notepad window. then, in s3pe, save the change you made and close s3pe.

nraas mc and smooth patch should no longer conflict. this is the only nraas mc and smooth patch conflict that i am aware of, unless there are others...? but that's how i got them to play together.

lag

the main issues that used to cause super long loading times for me and lagging during gameplay were the following:

thousands of unmerged cc packages in my mods folder

laptop had HDD instead of SSD

framerate was not capped

a lot of script mods installed which were probably conflicting with each other and using a lot of resources in the background

sooo the steps i took were:

organized and merged most of my cc packages into packages smaller than 1 GB - reduces lag and load times

changing my laptop's hard drive to a SSD decreased load times and reduced lag dramatically for me - also adding more ram to my laptop probably helped. but this is a pretty extreme option. i had to replace my hard drive with a SSD because it literally died.

when i used to play on my laptop with a HDD, capping the framerate to 30 or 60 FPS helped to reduce the lagging during gameplay. you can limit the game's framerate using smooth patch, using "3Booter", or thru your computer's graphics card.

script mods like nraas story progression and mingos birds and bees are script mods that are known to cause lag in the game because they are resource heavy. the only way to remove the lag is to uninstall them or, for nraas SP, i set the speed of the story progression to the slowest option.

so yeah i hope that is helpful <3

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cheolism-archive · 2 years ago

Text

on his back

➳ kim mingyu x f!reader

➳ summary: when you send a picture of you struggling from the lack of ac in your office and scold mingyu for sticking his hand down his pants, he can't help but get on his back and spread his legs for you.

➳ word count is approx 3k

➳ tags/warnings (PLEASE READ): sub!gyu, bottom!gyu,. dom!reader, top!reader. reader has female anatomy, refers to breasts and bras. anal penetration (male receiving), anal sex and fingering. prostate massage/milking. degradation and praise, nicknames (slut, whore, bitch; babyboy, sweetheart)(male receiving); use of the word "pervert". over stimulation, multiple orgasms, crying during sex. big dick!gyu, size kink but you've got smaller hands than him and he's obsessed. he's a bit of a perv at the beginning. use of dildos, mating press (male receiving). switches between gyu and reader's pov, reader does not orgasm. the dildo is sometimes referred to as the reader's "dick"

➳ please. if you do not like this sort of thing, do not read. mdni.

Mingyu was going to revoke your picture-taking privileges.

The conversation was innocent, of course. You were complaining about the temperature of the office, the air conditioning having decided to quit on one of the hottest days so far.

my baby 💍✨🙈💛:

the ac is broke and i am suffering so. much.

gyu my shirt is literally stuck to my skin.

i look like i’ve been walking thru a swamp

look

The picture you sent, although you had innocent intentions, did not-so-innocent things to Mingyu.

Your shirt was sticking to your torso, the fabric doing nothing against the heat. He could seat the outline of your bra against it, could see how it clung to your breasts. Your hair was stuck to your face in several places, forehead shining from the thin layer of sweat that had accumulated during your time in the sweltering office.

You really did look like you've been walking through a swamp, or even just have been walking outside during the height of summer, when the sun was relentless and city pavement did nothing to alleviate the heat and instead trapped it. Like you spent the hour running on a treadmill, like you've spent the past hour leaning over Mingyu, hands deep in his ass.

Mingyu couldn’t help but stare at the picture for several minutes. He was very aware of his dick swelling in his pants, of it angrily throbbing for attention, but he ignored it in favor of running his eyes over your face and torso over and over.

Then you sent another message.

my baby 💍✨🙈💛:

ugh i just went to the bathroom too. fucking underwear is soaked

If Mingyu had a list of phrases that could immediately get him to full hardness, that would be towards the top for sure.

He knew, logically, this was all about your suffering through the heat. That your underwear was damp from sweat, not from your arousal. You were sweaty from the heat, not from sex. Sweaty from being trapped in your office, not trapped between his thighs.

But fuck, if there was one thing about Mingyu, it was that he had an imagination.

So he leaned against the kitchen counter, abandoning the dishes. He stuck his hand down his pants, eyes still hooked on your picture and texts. His dick was a heavy, comforting weight in his hand, long and thick.

Mingyu hissed between his teeth, smoothing his hand down his cock. He rubbed his thumb against the tip, forcing precum from it.

“My underwear is so wet,” he could practically hear you saying, could hear the taunting tone of your voice. Mingyu wondered if he’d be able to smell it, smell your cunt as you bullied him.

my baby 💍✨🙈💛:

gyu? what are you doing? i can see you reading my messages

His hand tightened on his dick, heart racing in his chest.

my baby 💍✨🙈💛:

oh my god

are you? masturbating? to my sweaty fucking selfie?

Mingyu sucked in a shallow breath, hand squeezing his cock. Then he gathered the precum that had gathered at the tip. He began to spread it along the length of his dick, the fluid not enough to ease the friction of skin against skin, his palm against his cock, but Mingyu moaned into the feel of it, groaning at the drag of his calluses against his sensitive cock. He couldn't help but buck his hips up into his hand, to continue to seek out the feeling.

my baby 💍✨🙈💛:

kim mingyu.

what a fucking pervert. i can’t believe you’re fucking your dick bc of a single selfie of me sweating.

is that it? are you a dirty pervert, kim mingyu?

Whining at the back of his throat, Mingyu squeezed his eyes shut momentarily. His hand picked up speed against his cock, thumb working at the veins and tip. The drag of his hand against his cock, the feel of his hand working his dick felt so good, but Mingyu still couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something.

Mingyu brought his hand from his pants. He wiped it off on his sweats before typing, thumbs flying over the keyboard in his rush, not even comprehending what he was saying.

me:

Please

my baby 💍✨🙈💛:

get yourself ready. i’ll take a half day bc of the heat.

can't believe my boyfriend's so fucking needy he'll jack off to a sweaty selfie of me.

if you’ve cum before i get home, you’re not cumming in me for a week. understand, babyboy?

answer me, mingyu.

me:

Yes

Wont

Mingyu practically ran for the bedroom, shoving his sweats down his long legs and leaving them in the hall. He automatically went for the bedside table, taking out the large bottle of lube. Excitement, desperation, and lust coursed through his veins, not even bothering to take off his shirt as he climbed onto the bed.

Mingyu gathered the pillows towards him, stuffing them beneath his hips, raising them slightly to help with the angle. His hands practically shook as he snapped open the bottle, as he squeezed harshly to force lube out and onto his hand.

He ignored his large, aching, dick, how Mingyu's thighs shook, clenching, desperate for attention. Instead he focused on his asshole, pressing one single finger against his rim.

He wished it was your finger pressing against his hole, wished it was you kneeling between his knees, your fingers, smaller than his, working his ass. Wished you were leaning over him, cooing at him, bullying him, the tips of your fingers massaging against his prostate, bringing tears to the corners of his eyes.

You’d laugh at him. He could practically hear it. You’d laugh at him, berate him, tell him off for being too loud. Call him a desperate little slut, your desperate little slut. You’d say how pretty he looks on his back for you, how pretty his little hole is.

Mingyu bit down on his lip sharply, canines tugging. He dug his heels into the bed, willing himself to slow down. He had worked two of his fingers in, deliberately missing his prostate in hopes of staving off an orgasm in attempt to obey you.

He could come like this, he thought. Fingers in his ass, mind filled with thoughts of you.

And then you were there at the doorway to your shared bedroom. Just like in the picture, you were sweaty. Your hair stuck to your neck, face shining with sweat. You raised your eyebrows at him as you crossed into the bedroom, and he watched, desperate and wanton, as you pulled off your work shirt and tossed it to the ground.

Mingyu watched as you went to the closet, hoping fervently you were doing what he thought you were. You hadn’t said anything to him yet, the room quiet other than the sound of his fingers, slick, working at his ass, and his heavy pants. Suspense seemed to build between the two of you, Mingyu so desperately wanting some sort of acknowledgment.

Finally you climbed onto the bed, Mingyu’s dildo in hand. It was his favorite. It was as large as he was, colored a soft pink that reminded him of flowers. He couldn't help but squeeze his eyes shut at the sight of it, hole clenching against his fingers.

“You didn’t cum, did you?”

Your voice had his hole tightening involuntarily, his body already reacting to you.

“No,” he whined, voice pitchy. Mingyu bit down on his lip, arching his back a little. He wanted to look pretty for you, and he knew he did. He knew what he looked like, long figure splayed on the bed. His thick thighs spread wide, hips tilted up to make the reach to his hole easier. Sun-kissed legs, long and thick and muscled, opening and making room for your body to wedge between them.

“What a good boy you are,” you praised. Mingyu grinned in satisfaction, feeling your praise settle deep within him, his stomach twisting pleasantly and sending more heat to his dick.

But then you’re pulling his hand from his ass, his hole frantically clenching around his fingers in an attempt to keep them in. Sighing, you frowned at him in disapproval. "Gyu. If you want me to fuck you then you have to get your hand out of your ass."

Mingyu pouted, but he did as you said.

You grab the lube bottle from where it had been abandoned beside him, squeezing out a generous amount. Two of your fingers then pressed against his ass, and then he’s immediately pushing his hips down onto you, desperate to get your fingers inside.

You laughed, your other hand bracing on his knee. You pushed his leg back, baring more of his ass. “God, Mingyu. Look at you. So fucking desperate for me to fuck your ass, are you?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “Want you to fuck me, baby.”

Giggling, you lean down and press a kiss to his knee, his heart fluttering and the skin you kissed tingling. Your fingers pressed into his hole, but when he tried to grind down on them you pull back. “Mingyu. You gotta be patient for me. If we go too fast you’ll hurt.”

Mingyu whined, pouting. He wanted you to fuck him already, wanted to feel your dick stretching him out regardless of the pain. But he knew, logically, it was for the best, and if it were the other way around he'd take great care not to hurt you.

“I can always get the smaller dick,” you say tauntingly, knowing for a fact Mingyu would rather be prepped for an hour straight, bullied to the point of weeping, than to give up the large dick resting beside you.

“No,” he tossed his head back against the bed, toes curling. “No. I’ll be good; be patient.”

You cooed at him, and then your fingers were reentering his hole. Your two fingers were smaller than his, had less girth and length. But you pressed them inside, a loud moan escaping Mingyu’s lips at the intrusion nonetheless,. You laughed at him meanly, fingers rubbing against his walls.

“What a fucking slut,” you taunt him. You begin to work your fingers inside of him, scissoring them, spreading out his walls and deliberately ignoring his prostate. “Look at how fucking desperate you are for me, Kim Mingyu. Fucking slut.”

“Yours,” he choked out, voice tight. Your fingers were smaller than his, yes, but fuck if they didn’t feel wonderful inside of him. His fingers were longer, yes, but yours seemed to contain heaven. The way you worked your fingers inside of his ass, the way you maneuvered them, tauntingly, teasingly, bullying him. It was like you knew his body, his mind, better than he did. Your hands were smaller than his, but fuck if he didn’t love, adore, how they made him feel.

You laughed again, twisting your fingers in his ass. “Yes, Mingyu. You’re my slut. My desperate slut of a boyfriend, my whore that can’t even keep his head out of the fucking gutter long enough for me to complete a workday.”

You withdrew your hands. He immediately whined in protest, brow furrowing. You threw him a look, reaching out and slapping his thick thigh sharply. “Mingyu. I said you have to be patient.”

“‘m sorry,” he murmured. He wasn’t, of course.

And you knew that. You ignored it however, focusing on Mingyu’s ass. You readjusted your hand, searching --

When your fingers brushed against Mingyu’s prostate he couldn’t help but let out a loud moan, back arching, toes curling. Your fingers pulled back, away from his prostate, only for you to press them back forcefully. Then, as if you were working at your clit, you began massaging your fingers against his prostate.

Mingyu’s mouth dropped open, a soundless moan escaping him. You pressed down on his hip to keep him down, your fingers gently rubbing his prostate all the while, eyes dark and watching his every twitch, every brush of his eyelashes against his cheek as he fought to keep his eyes open.

“So fucking beautiful like this, babyboy,” you murmured. And he was beautiful. His golden skin, long, muscled limbs. His large body shivering, hips canting down onto your fingers, this Adonis of a man so weak for your touch. “God, Gyu. You’re so gorgeous, so fucking -- a whore for my fingers, fucking yourself on them like a bitch.”

Then your hand was wrapping around Mingyu’s cock. You jerked him only twice before Mingyu was cumming on your hand, asshole so tight around your fingers that you couldn’t help but keep your fingers in.

“Good boy,” you praised him, your hand steadily pulling at his dick as he came, milking his cock. He could barely hear you over his moans, but still your words of praise seemed to stimulate his orgasm even more, cum thick and covering your hand and his stomach.

Once his body relaxed, his chest heaving, you removed your hand from his ass. He whined, high and sensitive, at the movement. But he knew what was coming next.

The head of your dick pressed against his ass, your other hand bracing against his knee once again. You waited until Mingyu was opening his eyes, waiting for him to make eye contact. “You good, Gyu? You okay?”

His nod had you slowly, gently, pressing the tip of your dick into his hole. His body clenched down on the dick, betraying him, halting the movement.

You cooed, free hand traveling. You smoothed it over his skin, your touch drawing goosebumps, massaging. “Gotta relax, Gyu. Relax for me, baby. Gotta relax so I can fuck you.”

Mingyu willed his body to relax, to melt into the bed. He wanted you to fuck him so badly, wanted your dick to bruise his prostate, wanted your hands to leave bruises on his body. He refused to let his body ruin this for him.

Once his body relaxed, and despite Mingyu’s whines for you to hurry, you guided the dick slowly inside of him. His ass clenched around it, tightening around your dick and the intrusion.

“Be a good boy,” you reminded him. You continued to work your dick inside of him until the balls were snugly against his ass, the long length completely buried. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Doing okay?”

Mingyu groaned, lashes fluttering as he tried to remember how to speak. The dick was huge, filling his hole and the head pressing against his prostate. He felt so full and complete with your dick inside of him.

He fucking loved it.

“Good,” he mumbled, pressing his head back into the pillows, baring his thick throat, the veins of it prominent. “Feels good. Fucking -- feels good.”

You giggled, swooping down to press another kiss to his knee. Then you were moving against him, hand pressing his knee to his chest once more, the movement shifting your cock inside of him.

You fucked into him swiftly, setting a harsh, brutal pace remnant of how Mingyu would fuck you. You knew, after hundreds of times fucking Mingyu, how to fuck him. How to angle the dick in his ass to ensure it brushed against his prostate, how to slide it slowly out of his body, letting his walls drag against it, how to thrust it sharply back in.

Mingyu’s moans were loud and lewd, the noises like music. You fucked him until his cock was rising once again, and you continued to fuck him even as another orgasm exploded from his body.

“So beautiful,” you repeated, eyes stuck on his body, on the piece of heaven panting and whining, his hands twisting against your sheets. “Absolutely beautiful, Gyu. You okay to keep on going?”

At his nod you pulled back, withdrawing your dick from his ass. Mingyu gasped, eyes flying open, wide and betrayed.

“Don’t worry, you little slut,” you laughed, fond. You rose to your knees, leaving the dick to the side of his body. With both hands free you pushed back on both of his knees, which had naturally relaxed during his orgasm, pressing until both of his knees were to his chest, legs knocking against your shoulders.

You kept one hand on his shoulders, keeping his torso in place. Your other hand returned to the dick, and you pulled back from his body just enough to press the tip back against his hole. It was a bit awkward, but when his lashes began to flutter from your dick reentering, lips parting, you forgot about the awkwardness.

His long body, even as his back, seemed to engulf you. Mingyu’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, grabbing and pulling at you; his legs crossed at the ankles, feet knocking against your back. He was so big, the fucking picture of traditional masculinity.

And here he was: on his back, your dick in his ass.

Your pace was cruel this time, unforgiving. The slap of your balls against his ass filled the room, joined with his whines. You fucked into him, eyes trained on his face, drinking in every single movement.

“Taking it like a good little slut,” you praised him, “taking it like a good bitch, yeah? Is that what you want, baby? Want me to fuck you like a slut, like a whore?”

You were relentless in fucking him, refusing to let up. When tears appeared at the corner of his eyes you couldn’t help the thrill that shot through you, the satisfaction at seeing your boyfriend cry so prettily from your dick.

When he came for the third time, you held the dick in his ass despite how his hole clenched around it, trying to push the obtrusion back out. After what seemed like forever you were pressing your mouth to his, your hand tangling in his hair, tongue forcing its way into his mouth.

He was a wreck. His mouth could barely keep up with yours, cheeks glistening with his tears. His bangs stuck to his forehead, sweat clinging to his skin.

Mingyu grinned cutely, his hands settling on your shoulders. His thumbs dug into your skin, nails scratching lightly.

“How cute,” you cooed, cupping his cheek with one hand. You brushed his bangs back, traced the shell of his ear. “You look so cute ‘n happy, Gyu.”

“I am happy,” he agreed, smile never wavering. “Thank you, baby.”

You hummed, leaning down to press another kiss to his mouth. Then, with your lips still pressed against his, you couldn’t help but murmur. “Guess we aren’t finished, then.”

His eyes were wide when you pulled back, hands tight against your arms. “Wait -- what do you mean?”

The hand on your cock tightened, and slowly you grinded it in, focusing on his prostate. Mingyu’s body did a full shiver, eyes rolling to the back of his head, nails digging into your skin.

“If you’re able to still feel anything after I fuck you,” you explained, watching as his abdomen tightened in protest of the overstimulation, “then clearly I’m not fucking you well enough.”

#my writing #svthub #svt #seventeen #kim mingyu #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu oneshot #kim mingyu smut #kim minngyu fic #svt fic #svt x reader #svt smut #svt oneshot #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen oneshot

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doodle-pops · 2 years ago

Text

Tales of the Heart

Finarfin x mortal!reader

Request: Boyah!!! ♥️♥️ So happy requests re open!! ♥️ Could I please request Finarfin x human!reader? Perhaps after the final battle, he decides to see ME with his own eyes :') but he is a bit lost, the change it too much ! So the reader finds him and helps him thru his stay :") and sun fluffy romance!! 🤲♥️ — @noldorinpainter

A/N: When I say that I enjoyed writing this, I most absolutely did! This was my first official Finarfin request and it was so fluffy and sweet! Thank you for the request. I got to write a soft and flirty Finarfin and I was squealing. Thank you for increasing Finarfin content.

Warnings: none, nothing but absolute fluff and a flirty Finarfin shooting his shot

Words: 2.8k

Synopsis: As the War of Wrath came to an end, Finarfin decided to explore the beauty of Middle Earth. Instead, he discovered another form of beauty, becoming enthralled.

Part 1 | Part 2 |

The sound of streams rushing vigorously echoed to his right as his foot crossed a maple vine. Animals were scurrying across the forest floor the further he wandered into the forest. Though it was creepier than what he remembered during his childhood days in Valinor, it appeared much livelier now that the war was over, and the majority of the evil had fled.

The squawking and singing of birds overhead and in the canopy and buzzing of insects filled his head with safe sounds compared to the reoccurring sound of metal clashing. The melody was sweeter than the memories of the horrors of the great war. His said reason for escaping the confinements of the camp during nightfall left him to wander until the sun raised on him.

Anor’s rays were caught in his mess of golden ringlets which was designed into a messy bun with tresses still falling out—something to keep the humidity under control. Worrying about his troupes and the others was the least of his concerns; he wanted to explore the lands his father originated. The stories of fighting wild beasts—well that part was already explored—and travelling the distant lands, over the mountain and yonder filled his heart with exhilaration.

Making turns at all different angles and parts, following blinding trails and the forest beasts to wherever they may lead him, having a guide in this new land simply slipped the High King’s mind. His heart contained too much anticipation to learn what was around the river bend or above the canopy of the tallest tree. For a moment, he felt like his little boy when he was in his youthful years. Dragging and tugging at his arms to show him a mud puddle or spider forming its webs. Now he understood who and where Finrod's the enthusiasm resonated from.

Wandering for over twenty minutes, pushing himself deeper into the woods, the idea of handing his hand on the hilt of his sword was faint. All the evil was pushed back to the outer skirts of the land, surely he couldn’t have covered grounds that rapidly. However, he found his left hand sliding up his thigh to comfortably settle on the hilt of his sword. His grip was loose, easy to tighten in a flash if required, positive that the looming eerie sensation was no danger, but rather…uncommon. A concoction of excitement and curiosity overtook his body and urged him to walk forward, overstepping the squirrels that scurried about his feet.

What lay before him was an image he believed to only exist in a land like Araman, nowhere else had the capacity to withhold a beautiful sight. The freshness and holiness of the atmosphere were light and enchanting as if it was untouched by the creatures of the land, save for the animals. It was there his eyes landed on the stream his ears had the fortunate pleasure of listening to. The bubbles of happiness the running water echoed flooded through the roots of a maple tree whose roots formed an archway over the stream. Its roots were planted deeply, and its foundation was firm for the smaller creatures to gather in unity and live. Currently, its leaves were still green, signalling that autumn was far away from stealing its youth.

The exhilarating sensation was still bubbling in his chest when his foot landed in the enclosure and touched the grass. He felt like it was a crime to enter the area clad in his boots. Toes melting into the grass, he sighed blissfully at the warmth the earth provided. Middle Earth isn’t as terrible as I believed it to be after all! At this point, the dangers that could present themselves during this moment were long forgotten as his eyes took in the serenity the land offered.

Laughter had bubbled up his throat and slipped past his lips when a pair of blue jay swooped down from their nest and fluttered around him, singing their morning song. Anor’s rays were still scattered throughout the trees, yet to peak the canopy. Lifting his hand for the birds to land as he assumed it was their intention, the sound of another bird breaks his concentration.

“They seem to like you, well, of course, they would. You’re an elf, all animals tend to flock to your kind with ease.” You were sitting on the opposite side of the maple tree, hidden from his eyes, but audible to his ears. They cocked in the direction your voice echoed and his head automatically craned to view the owner of the voice with curious eyes.

The birds perched on his arm were long forgotten. You had taken the stoplight and captured his attention. Were you a fellow elf or perhaps half-elven as he had come to learn existed. He had met the Edains…who were highly indifferent to his kind. Many qualities were noticeable to differentiate elves from men, so surely, you were on the elven side. But…of course, they would. You’re an elf, an elf wouldn’t make such a statement. You were mortal.

“…Would you be so kind as to reveal yourself, that way I can know who I am about to host a conversation with?” He attempted to hide his commanding nature and royal assertiveness, not wanting to scare you or propose the assumption that you were being forced. Though, he wanted to be a bit commanding, desperate to meet the face of this cheerful voice.

The sound of a book shutting, and clothes crumpling resonated behind the tree and prompted him to shuffle his bare feet across the grass the view you before you could present yourself. What, or as a matter of fact, who he saw, surprised him. Mortals weren’t known for their exquisite form of beauty, but for certain, you surely must have been. The way your hair moved with you as you arose, swishing and curling with your body and wind, was enthralling. Your much smaller figure still held grace and agility that was comparable to the elves. Even your voice reflected the beauty that the elves were known for displaying. Mortal or not, there had to be a trace of elven blood somewhere.

Finarfin gawked, unconsciously, while you ushered yourself off the ground and encircled the tree to prevent stepping over the larger and more complicated roots. More to avoid embarrassment before an otherworldly creature. The corners of his lips were upturned, and his eyes softened as you bounded over to his taller figure without an ounce of fear. That brought some sense of relief to his erratic heart.

“Greetings My Lord, may a star shine upon our meeting.” You greeted him formally with the extension of your hand from your heart to him. His eyes widened unexpectedly and his lips parted to inhale. While the High King received the greeting from the other Edains upon meeting them for their war meetings, there was something different about yours. He couldn’t place his finger on it, but it provided some volume of pleasure.

Being in a distant land for what was considered a few years, his interest in learning the mortal tongue fluctuated due to their ability to communicate in his. While he knew their tongue, the memories of the language were hidden away at the back of his mind. Finarfin’s turmoil began the longer he stood there gawking at you, blue jays already flown away and hand limp at his side, dying to respond. For a moment, he forgot all knowledge of the proper sequence of hosting a conversation, but that was not the reason for his hindrance.

His heart thumped like a hummingbird as warmth filled his skin. He knew it was not the sun, it was still at its 8 o’clock angle. The increase of air in his lungs, the rush of blood flowing under his skin, the lightness of his body, the chorus his fёa sang, Finarfin knew exactly what it meant. It was the last thing on his mind he would ever expect to re-experience again, let alone, here in a foreign land. Loneliness was forgotten and had never felt so foreign and unnerving now that he stood face-to-face in your presence.

What would the Valar say if he offered to return home with you? Did you even feel what he felt?

“Apologies for my…silence…uhh. Might I know your name?” He quickly asked to prevent you from being swayed by his lack of response. When was the last time I had ever attempted to swoon someone? Ah yes, since then…

The memory wasn’t merry to remember. It stung him twice.

“Y/N, My Lord! My name is Y/N,” you exclaimed. “Might I have to honour of knowing yours?”

A name so unusual and unheard off was the epitome of a rare jewel; his mind could never comprehend or imagine such a beauty. Though, he could see the way you peered up at his majestic figure, enthralled the moment you were caught by his welcoming smile and softened electric blue eyes. Knowing the effect of his beauty on others became normality, but when it was you who was affected, his composure was slowly chipping away behind the sole of his feet. Being bare feet on the grass was probably a terrible idea, any moment he could lose his barring and fall harder.

“Arafinwe, my dear,” he politely answered, struggling to keep his the frequency of his voice stable. The hand that once gripped the hilt of his sword reached out and lifted your dainty fingers, over your head, to meet his soft lips (he hoped they were soft enough) and enthral you more.

His ears picked up the faint gasp and his fingers detected the skip in your pulse at the contact. He still had it in him to place his effective charming spell over you.

“Y-Your name…it is unusual to my ears. Very different from the Sindar and the Noldor. Are you perhaps a Moriquendi?” Your question would have offended another whose natural instincts were to shun the rejected race and prideful boost of theirs, but Finarfin knew there were no negative intents behind your curiosity. Like any charmed person, he would enlighten you.

“No, my dear. Noldorin I am, and from across the sea, I came to like those you know. However, my name remains unchanged and dwells in the language of the High Elves, Quenya,” he spoke. A voice like honey, rich and heavy, luring you in with positive intentions to savour more. A taste unlike any other you had ever sampled. Your folks told tales of the Edain who fell for the elf-maiden, fairest of all them all in face and voice, and you wanted to protest against that saying. He was the fairest of them all. Never had a voice like his make butterflies erupt.

“Ah, well that would explain your…accent, it is different from those who speak my tongue,” you stated.

Humming in a sing-song manner, he beamed. “Indeed it is. I have not developed the proper speech technique? …no, forgive me, phonetics of your language. I recently arrived.” He was still holding your hand in his, knowing that he needed to return it, but refusing to part from your touch. Finarfin was like a moth drawn to a flame.

“Then that means you are the elves who came to assist us in battle?! It is you, along with the King, from across the sea who won us the war and brought peace to our land?!”

“The stories have already spread? It has only been a month since the war ended,” he laughed enthusiastically and was intrigued to learn what you might have heard about him. “What have they said about the King?”

“Oh!” you exclaimed at the sudden pique in his interest. “Well, they said that it was he who won the war and defeated the great Dark Lord, driving him and his foul creatures from the land. He fought valiantly and fiercely, with the heart and strength of a lion.”

His heart fluttered at the impression the folks had on him, yet, he wanted to know what you thought of him.

Dropping his hand while maintaining his grip around your fragile fingers as he had come to understand about the Edain. Such delicate creatures you were, much need of care and protection would be required.

“And…what do you think of the King?” he peered, desperate to flutter his heart at your opinion of him. A start to understanding how you saw him through your eyes. A start to rekindle the fire in his heart.

“Well, My Lord…” you pondered. “I cannot say what I think of him for I have never met nor seen him. But I can say that he must be kind, strong and fierce to have led his troupes into battle and win.”

The smile on his face grew from your modesty. You were remarkably wonderful in the short moment he grew to know you. His ego was flaring up at the praises you threw innocently at him. Anyone else who praised him, and it would have been common knowledge from then, but you made a repetitive compliment sound like a prize. What other words could he successfully pry from your honeyed lips?

Turning his head up to the sky, the sun had already peaked and cast its noonday shadows. When did time fly this quickly? Did you cast and enchanting spell upon me? I surely do not mind. His troupes would be out searching for him, an interruption he refused to accept. If he stayed here, they would find him in a matter of hours, but of course, there were ways to evade unwanted interruptions.

“And what if I revealed to you that I am the Noldóran, the King, you speak of, will you continue to keep me company?” he teased. It was long since he felt the need to tease anyone. Not even his nephews he reunited with and he used to playfully tease as children could he attempt to taunt.

His heart was yearning for company…companionship, and you were giving him a sense of hope. Yet to truly understand and grasp the untold truth of the Edains, or perhaps like every other elf before him who did, he ignored it to fill the empty gap in his heart. When the time was right, what pain and suffering he had to experience, he would deal with it as such.

Appalled by his boldness, you stuttered, stunned, “T-The King? You are the King, Arafinwe…your Majesty? Why would you be out here conversing with me and not in the safety of your people?”

Chuckling while lifting his other hand to encompass the one holding yours, he held it between you both. Despite the great height difference between you two, looking down lacked discomfort. There was more mirth and dynamism the longer he locked his gaze with yours. He could see the way your cheeks became swollen and lifted to present your bashfulness and enthrallment to him. It was endearing to learn that he still had the effects he once possessed.

“The beauty of the land was calling to me, and I could not resist. So I came looking, and I was entranced when I discovered that it was you, beckoning to me,” he whispered delicately as though he was citing a soliloquy. “I do not wish to part from you so soon, I still have much to learn, and your company would be splendid.”

Falling speechless at his poetry, none which you ever heard from the elves, dwarves and men have ever sounded as sophisticated and eloquent as his. He was purposefully melting your insides a caramel. Looking up at his marvellously heightened figure, he appeared taller than most of the elves you witnessed. His aura was radiant and compelling.

“My King…surely you do not mean that. I am mortal and you, an elf. It is unlikely between us.”

“If it is unlikely, then why is my heart racing this instant as we speak?” His heart sped up and then clenched at the partial rejection. Never before had Finarfin felt the dire urge to act so direct. Affairs of the heart were always a dangerous situation to be caught in, and this was different from any he had experienced. “But, if that is what you wish, then I would respectfully understand and part ways, but if not, I will pursue no matter what they say.” But my heart would ache and cry for you.

Even you felt a pang in your heart at his sullen state of dejection. “…It is not every day you meet an elf who wishes to fancy you. Mayhaps we become a successful story to the others before us?” you breathed. “So how might I, a mortal, keep His Majesty company if he wishes it?”

“Ay, we can indeed,” he replied with little to no knowledge of the tragedies that couples like him and you faced, but eager was his heart and fëa to love again. He would put his affections and courage to the test to love you. “Arafinwe, my dear. And a tour of the area would be pleasing; that way I can find you easily when I wish to reunite with you again,” he smirked.

Shyly nodding and biting your lip, you hid your growing flustered state and mumbled, “Then I would be honoured to give you a tour to meet again…soon, Arafinwe.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @singleteapot @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner

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ayelbee · 2 years ago

Text

MORE THAN LOVE | K. MBAPPÉ | 3

previous chapter | next chapter

Summary: Sometimes even love is not enough for relationships. But it's fine because you are over it. But getting again in a contact with his younger brother wasn't smart.

TW: French translation from a translator

Notes: This was the first time and also the last time I tried to write dialog in french, and never again! So with this I wanna apologize to french speakers, because i belive it is gonna be shit. Also I'm curenntly stuck at home for another week with a sickness, so I'm opening requests now!

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You didn't want to leave your bed that day, but you also knew that you needed to get up. Ethan was supposed to come in two hours, so you had two hours to make yourself look less miserable than you actually were.

It took you another thirty minutes before you were able to get out of your bed. With a few curse words you made your way to the kitchen first, and then to the bathroom where you got ready.

You actually didn't do anything special, because, at the end of the day, Ethan was your little brother, he knew how you looked in the morning, just in his brother's shirt and his giant sweatpants. But you wanted to look good for yourself, to show Ethan how his brother's absence in your life didn't have any effect on your life.

Which obviously have.

After changing from your PJs into some hoodie with sweatpants you spent the rest of the morning dancing to your favorite songs to light up your mood. Which worked as always.

As you were singing the last words of Sexy Bitch, you heard the doorbell ring. All out of breath, you went to the door to open it. There you found Ethan with a giant grin on his face.

"Did you hear that?" you asked as you moved out of his way to enter your flat.

"Little bit" he laughed "hello by the way." you got closer to him and you hugged him.

"Hey." as the hug ended you look at him from top to bottom. "You grew up again, right?" you didn't remember him as tall as he was now.

"Or you got smaller" he laughed "where can I put my jacket?"

"Funny." you rolled your eyes as you pointed to the hook on the wall.

"Will you get me a home tour like in those youtube videos?" he asked with a giant grin playing on his face.

"Well there is not much to see, but sure if you want to." you talked while he was taking off his shoes.

"There is a bathroom" you pointed to the door on his left side "that door next to them is the toilet and there is my bedroom." now you were pointing to the right side. But my favorite room is there." you started to walk thru the last door, turning back to Ethan as you reached the middle of the room. "This is my kingdom," you said as he turned around your living room connected to the kitchen.

"This room screams your name." he laughed as he started looking out from the windows.

"Why?" you sat down on a couch.

"The plants, the painting, the big windows." he sat next to you. "I really like the view tho."

"The view is actually the reason why I chose this flat." your apartment was situated in the courtyard, which made him really calm.

"Menteuse," he said with a playful tone. You just furrowed your eyebrows.

"What?" you didn't get why he called you a liar.

"You can't tell me that you choose this flat because of the view, you lived in an apartment with a view of the Champs de Mars." Ethan raised his eyebrows and fixed his gaze on you.

"That's true but this apartment has its own vibe, you know? It is cozy, the view makes you calm, and it is my safe place. No stress, no worries, just silence." Kylian's apartment was giant, it was fine when the two of you were there, but when he was away it was too much. You felt so alone there, that was the reason why you always did your best to spend as little time as possible there alone.

"Kylian was your safe place back then." you felt like he was interrogating you. Trying his best to notice every change in your expression when he mentioned his brother's name.

"What is this about Ethan?" your voice stayed calm, but your eyes looked broken almost watery. Ethan noticed. Ethan always noticed, he was a good kid. He knew you for a long time and ever since he know how you reacted, he knew the look when you were happy when you were looking at his brother with so much love in your eyes, but he also knew the look when you were moving out of Kylian's apartment. He knew it all, but he still wanted to have you back as his sister. As a person who will be there when his brother won't. Who will go to his games, take him to his favorite restaurant, and call his brother afterward to tell him how he played.

"I miss you Y/n." his expression changed as he realized how uncomfortable he made you. "I miss KyIian when he was with you, he is different now. It is not like when you two didn't know each other. I miss you in my life, in OUR lives." he started to play with the bottom of his shirt. You didn't have any words to say, as you would probably begin to cry, so you just leaned to him and wrapped his hands around his shoulders.

"I'm so sorry Ethan." you began. "I miss you and your whole family too, even Kylian. But there is nothing I can do about it. There were reasons why we didn't work out. Because we both deserve better. We deserve someone who will be able to give us their 100%, and who will support us 24/7. He needs someone who will be able to attend to the maximum of his matches and I need someone who will understand how important I is my work. That I am not the type of girlfriend that will sit all day alone at home just waiting on him to come from training. At least I am not like that now. I have my own dreams and goals, and as much as I would love to support him in his dreams I need someone to support me too." first tear escaped your eye, but you wiped it down so Ethan didn't notice. "I know we didn't see each other in the past months, but if it is what you want, I would love to be in a contact with you again." you finished.

"He doesn't know that I am with you now. He doesn't even know that you called me on my birthday Y/n, because if I told him he would be begging you right now to come back." he paused for a minute, making you think about his words. "He is a piece of shit since you two broke up, but it is even worse since the world cup. He was talking about you the whole morning."

"What?" as much as you need more time to process everything he was talking about, the fact that Kylian was today talking about you couldn't go unnoticed.

"Yeah, you know he sometimes sleeps at home, since he is complaining about how much is his apartment empty and silent without you and how that apartment is not his home, since the day you left. And he told me that he saw you yesterday, he was telling mum how beautiful and happy you looked, and how he wanted to start running after you when you closed the cab. But he also told us that you deserve to be happy, which you definitely are without him."

"I didn't know that Ethan." you had no idea how much the break up of the two of you affected Kylian. You thought that getting over it was much easier for him than for you. That he had these beautiful models in his DM's who were there to help if he wanted.

"I'm sorry for bringing him up Y/n." Ethan felt sorry for ruining the mood, he knew that there is no reason why to talk about his brother. As much as he wished for you two to get back together, he knew that this is not his business. Kylian should be the one to try and Ethan even though he tried, seeing you know he was sure that he didn't do a thing to get you back.

"It's fine Ethan, but let's watch Captain America now, ok?" you put your hand on his shoulder. "Do you want ice cream? I bought your favorite flavor from Ben and Jerry's." you tried your best to erase that tension from the room.

"Y/n you are the best." a smile appeared on his face.

"I know Ethan." you get up from the couch and walked to the kitchen.

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After two hours and The First Avenger later you were eating some pasta you order for your lunch earlier. You told Ethan about your trip to London where you went in December, about the winter wonderland, which you were sure he would love. Ethan was also talking about his football season and about the World cup, but he didn't mention Kylian. Which you were glad for. He was talking about Qatar, its food, and how hot it actually was there. But he was also talking about his birthday party with his friends and everything that happened in his life since August.

It wasn't tension or awkward as it was at the start. This was chill, and fun as back in the days when the two of you used to hang up. The talking of you two was interrupted by Ethan's phone.

"That's Ky." his face froze the moment he looked at the screen.

"It's fine you can take it." you smiled, knowing that this won't hurt you.

Ethan looked at you like he didn't want to believe you. "I really mean it." you slightly laughed. Ethan looked at his screen for a few seconds, looking like he was considering his options, but in the end, he picked up that call.

"Hey." Ethan wasn't a good liar, even from the tone he put on from the start you could tell that she was really nervous, and it would be even weirder if his own brother wouldn't notice.

"Hé, et si je t'emmenais déjeuner et qu'ensuite nous allions au cinéma voir le nouveau film Avatar ?" [Hey, how about I take you to lunch and then we go to the movies to see the new Avatar movie? ] you could hear Kylian's voice from the phone.

"Je suis dehors avec les garçons en ce moment.." [I'm out with the boys at the moment.] Ethan didn't sound convincing at all.

"Vous semblez être nerveux." [You seem to be nervous.] as you heard Kylian's laugh your heart ached. "Et si on y va le soir ? tu seras toujours avec les garçons ?" [ What if we go in the evening? Will you still be with the boys?]

"Je vais probablement rentrer tard." [I'll probably be home late.] he nervously chucked making more doubts in Kylian.

"Tu es un terrible menteur, mon frère." [You are a terrible liar, brother.] he laughed again. "Tu es avec une fille ?" [Are you with a girl?] Ethan's expression changed to a terrified face.

"Vous pourriez le dire comme ça." [You could say it like that.] Ethan tried to laugh as he looked scared into your eyes. You did your best not to burst out laughing.

"Alors je vais arrêter de te déranger, je t'appelle demain et tu me diras tout sur cette fille que tu aimes." [So I will stop bothering you now, I'll call you tomorrow and you will tell me everything about this girl you like.] After this sentence Ethan said goodbye to Kylian as soon as possible, hanging the phone up before Kylian was able to say goodbye back.

"That call was a nightmare in a real life." Ethan signed as you finally burst out laughing.

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The rest of the day went great, you pushed Kylian into the back of your mind. You enjoyed it too much. You even promised Ethan to go to his next game, if Kylian won't be attending. Ethan even joked about giving you his jersey which you could wear to that game. And you laughed. You lauged more than in the past months.

When Ethan left you ended up staring from your window into the courtyard. Now was the moment when Kylian got back into you mind. You didn't like it at all. Because since you came back from Christmas he was there almost 24/7 leaving you more and more confused.

But today you understood why he was there. He was there because of the things that Ethan had told you.

"Kylian was your safe place back then."

"He is a piece of shit since you two broke up..."

"He was talking about you the whole morning."

"...that apartment is not his home, since the day you left."

"...But he also told us that you deserve to be happy, which you definitely are without him."

Were you acually happy without him?

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Tag list: @nightlockcornucopia, @she-lives-in-her-dreams, @sorceresski @m4k444 @mrs-dasilvasantoss

#kylian x reader #kylian imagines #mbappe psg #mbappe imagine #light angst #pov #ethan mbappe #football imagine #kylian mbappe x reader #more then love #kylian mbappe

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wackulart · 2 years ago

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What about a human!reader that fell thru a temporary portal and Belos accepted them into his life bc he wants information about the human realm and they kinda just do random tasks for Belos bc they can't do magic and Belos begins to dote on them after enough time

Aww!! thats so cute

Belos x Human!Reader

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You could still remember the day you had fallen through that lake, the day things had turned completely upside down for you. Quite literally at the time as you had fallen face first into what you assumed was quick sand and revealed itself to be a portal to a realm you had never seen before. Everything around you had either wanted to kill you, eat you or rob you for the first moment you had got there. It was frightening and difficult to navigate, you were almost convinced that you were living out a nightmare. Then you met him. You weren't sure what he was doing out there in the forest now that you thought back on it, you just remembered him surrounded with what you know now were coven scouts and barking orders. His stature and mask had scared you enough, not to mention the boom of his voice made your chest tighten. In an attempt to not be detected you tried to sneak your way through the bushes. Unfortunately for you, that was where a rather hungry bird like creature had decided to rest. The moment you had gotten halfway, you stepped on its tail and it attacked you, throwing you down and out of the bushes. Scouts had cleared it off of you, pulling it away with bright spells and sending it back into the wild. Before you could get up, you saw a shadow cast over you and your eyes met two glowing vibrant ones. You thought he was going to make you disappear with the intensity of his gaze before a scout pointed a staff in your face. After seeing what it could do, you fearfully backed away into the legs of the masked man. He lifted his hand in a halting motion and helped you up. While you were still nervous, something about the way he took your hand had made you relax if only for a second. You learned a lot more about the Boiling Isles after that. You and Belos had grown rather close after he saved you that day. He had taken you in and allowed you to stay in the palace with him. Out of all the time you had on the Isles he had been the nicest person you had met since, providing you with more than enough to survive. Since you couldn't use any magic like he or the other demons of the realm could, you helped in other ways. The Emperor assigned you as his personal assistant, to the dismay of another smaller demon you had met during your time in the palace. He would have you help with organizing his schedule, take you with him during meetings to take notes and generally kept you around during his day. Suddenly while you two were in the throne room together, he began to ask about the human realm, your home. You were surprised to hear him ask since you hadn't even thought about it in such a long time, but you told him about it. At this point, you could consider the Emperor a friend so telling him of your home was quite nice. He asked all sorts of questions, he asked about the technology, the wildlife, the changes in society, you were beginning to wonder why he had been so curious. You brought it up and it was almost as if he had been shut off, his face froze as he stared at you for a long moment. He told you he was human and it was as if a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. While it raised a few questions, it had brought you both closer. Now you were currently helping Belos with recopying a few important files that had to do with construction within the palace. You hadn't truly paid much attention to what was being written on them as you had several pages to complete. The both of you were just working quietly in his office, he was sitting at his desk and you were on the sofa just a few feet from him. Some days, similar to this one, just consisted of you two sitting in each other's company without a word between you. It was nice to just be around him, just knowing he was there with you.

"And I'm done!" You announced as you straightened out the papers and piled them into the folder you had taken them from. Belos chuckled and shook his head. "Once again, you have beaten me." You smiled and leaned your head on your arm. "Aww, c'mon. It's not a race because if it was I would totally floor you."

He rolled his eyes yet there was still that amused grin on his face. You stood up and peeked at his work, leaning your head on his shoulder. With how often you two had been around each other, you had often been in each others space. That certainly didn't stop from Belos' face reddening slightly at your closeness. When he had first found you, he was more than excited to find another human. His hope to save you where he had failed before had influenced his decision to have you work with him, but you had slowly grown to be such a regular part of his life. Even with separate rooms, there had been some nights where you had asked to sleep in his room and occasionally he would come to yours. Not to mention you had brought a new perspective to everything that he did. He almost wished to see the world through your eyes, if only for a moment. He wondered how you saw this world, how you saw other demons. How you saw him.

"I've only this page left," Belos spoke up. "Then perhaps we could go eat something, it's been a rather long day." You let out an excited gasp and threw your arms over his shoulders, wrapping them around to not get in the way of his view. "That sounds like a great idea." He hummed and continued working on the page, though his focus tended to shift as you stood so close. It was almost instinctual when he leaned into you, your cheeks pressing against one another. He could feel the small smile grow on your face.

"What do we have in the kitchen?" You asked. There was a pause from Belos which you had assumed he was trying to remember what you had, but he had been convincing himself to take a risk. He cleared his throat as he finished the last sentence on the page and put his pen down to take your hand into his. "What if we went out to eat instead?"

That hadn't sounded like a bad idea at all, it did open up your options. Plus it had been a while since you had left the palace, work was really catching up on the two of you. Of course, you had also seen the opportunity to tease Belos at his phrasing. It totally wasn't because you had to get rid of the nervous energy that had come up when he had taken your hand and ignore how warm it made you feel. "Ooh, you wanna take me out? Like on a date?" You sang.

When you expected him to playfully push you off and shake his head and he didn't, your smile faded. He instead turned back to you with a look you had only seen a few times but never understood the meaning behind. His eyes were so gentle that it caught you completely off guard that you almost didn't notice how close your faces were. His eyes looked away from you as he spoke in a near whisper. "Is that something you might like?"

Oh.

You wanted to act composed but it was almost impossible to fight the stupid smile that pulled onto your face. He waited patiently for your response as he watched you carefully.

The second you leaned your forehead against his, he relaxed. "Yeah, I think it would be."

He lifted your hand to his lips and laid a soft kiss on the back of it. You moved it to hold his face and he sighed pleasantly, he was putty in your hands.

Belos would thoroughly enjoy sweeping you off of your feet.

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horizon-verizon · 6 months ago

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Leaks saying that Rhaenyra send Elinda to hang up posters in King’s Landing calling for anyone who dares to try to claim a dragon (I think it’s true, in the preview for episode 7, there a soldier tearing a poster down) and WHY TF is she recruiting from King’s Landing when plenty if not more than dragonseeds reside in Dragonstone and Driftmark ?? At least in F&B, the dragonseeds were from the area and you could assume as Rhaenyra had been ruling over them for 10 years there was a greater allegiance to her. She’s not even looking for people who have Targaryen/Valyrian blood anymore, just anyone who’s willing to take the risk. Handing over the biggest dragons to complete nobodies with no affiliation at all to her is stupid. Doubly so because what’s to say Aemond or Larys doesn’t get word and makes a deal offering much more if they claim a dragon and flip sides, and Aemond has shut down all exits. Rhaenyra already makes plenty of foolish mistakes during the war, why do they keep adding/creating more ?

It's pretty strange, considering peasants largely aren't literate in ASoIaF/Westeros.

Also, having the dragonseeds ALL come from or reside in either Driftmark or Dragonstone makes much more sense with this particular fact bc of what you say about there being a history of Driftmark/Dragonstone special allegiance to the Targs and other Valyrian families ("The Red Dragon and the Gold"):

Said allegiance came from two things interacting:

the long history of the Targs/Velaryons/etc ruling those islands for generations BEFORE the Conquest

Targs sexing up locals with the FM custom of right of first night that established the idea that a lord "bestows" a child onto a peasant family/woman (no this doesn't mean every single Targ-local coupling was bonafide rape...but the power dynamics went crazy and are MORE questionable with that FM "tradition")

This is esp good:

Doubly so because what’s to say Aemond or Larys doesn’t get word and makes a deal offering much more if they claim a dragon and flip sides, and Aemond has shut down all exits. Rhaenyra already makes plenty of foolish mistakes during the war, why do they keep adding/creating more

So it's either going to these:

those KL future dragonseeds will have to sneak out using some seriously dubious means totally unaffliiated or given by Rhaenyra-Mysaria

they will have means of getting out thru Mysaria-Rhaenyra's arrangements, which themselves need to be explained: how long do the agents stay and hide themselves in KL and how did they do it? Wa sit through Mysaria's connections, Daemon's, or is Elinda magically rowing to Kl again? Who and how does she know those she comes to contact with? No Dyana doesn't make sense bc we have seen no interaction b/t Rhaenyra and Dyana, and Dyana was a low-tier servant not a lady-in-waiting. So yeah, you need to have already shown (S1) how Rhaenyra/Elinda and Dyana got as aquainted as to be able to have such communications and established some amount of trust even with Aegon having raped Dyana.

However, I don't think the Red Keep has dragon eggs. that appears to be just a Dragonstone thing--which makes sense bc that is the original home with all the necessary accommodations for housing, raising, and feeding dragons/eggs made over GENERATIONS of Targ ancestors. The castle of Dragonstone (not the island), I think, is literally built into/from a volcano. The Dragonkeep of KL can't match that, is smaller. So Aemond and the rest of the greens cannot make similar promises or invitations to KLers.

Either way, yeah, the letting absolutely anyone regardless of how loyal you think they will be to you rise a dragon bc you want to make sure that the notion of Targ blood-necessary for dragons is just propaganda (implying malicious lies of slander) also doesn't make sense bc:

Daenerys Stormborn literally woke up dragons using her own self/blood. Only she could have done what she did...it's a pretty large and thematic story element to ASoIaF, her doing that. Blood & familial connection to other dragonriders may not be the end all be all (Quentyn Martell) but it is a PREREQUISITE and absolutely matters, otherwise.

throughout detailed recorded history the Targs--since at least Jaehaerys I--we have seen how allegiance or making sure that the exclusivity of dragonriding is maintained is another important element...Jaehaerys himself says that it is necessary to keep dragonriding exclusive is not just for Targ power but bec it is really bad to have multiple competing rival dragonriding groups and esp in the same space...Old Valyria is used as reference. The whole anxiety about the Two Betrayers and later arrests of the dragonseeds partially come from this fear.

So, yeah, the writers are sacrificing or just plain ignorant of the lore bc they have some weird jealousy towards this dragonriding family or want to feel as if they have some higher understanding of politics and history:

Ultimately, Condal’s own passion for Martin’s writing outweighed any doubt he had about his own. “I’m trying to make the type of show I would enjoy as a fan, which I am. And while I realize my ideal fan show will be different from someone else’s, I still think that it’s a good true north heading on my compass. Actually, I think that’s why HBO hired me in the first place.”

“I was working in a corporate environment and collaborating with other creatives,” Condal says. “Copywriters work closely with art directors responsible for visuals and layout, and there’s a similarity there to screenwriters working with directors responsible for turning your very cerebral ideas into concrete images. I also learned to compromise, adapting your writing to clients who aren’t always going to love your brilliant, avant-garde choices. That’s the talent-studio relationship, right there. Working on a deadline, on a budget, going into a room to give your presentation, and having someone on the other end of the table buy or not buy them — this stuff is relevant in any industry, Hollywood or not. Coming from a creative but also very corporate environment, I was able to navigate challenges that some of my colleagues with filmmaking and art history degrees maybe weren’t prepped for.”

#asoiaf asks to me #asoiaf fav posts #the sowing #the red sowing #hotd leaks #hotd writing #hotd characterization #book vs tv comparisons #westerosi bastards #the dragonseeds #westerosi history #right of first night #hotd #asoiaf #hotd critical

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isa-ah · 5 months ago

Text

sure why not. nightmare rankings with context lets go

the first one ive had by far the most times.

the second was the most disorienting thing ive ever experienced.

the third the most emotionally devastating.

and the fourth the most physically reactive ive ever been to a dream.

the short of it: my mom got knocked up at 15 so i was raised by my grandparents exclusively. my grandma had breast cancer and my grandfather had really bad diabetes so i was raised to be a caregiver. i dropped out of school at 13 to be home fulltime and then a few weeks before my 18th my grandma died and a few weeks after my 18th my grandpa died.

we lived in a tiny rotting house, holes in the walls and ceiling that would let in snakes, bugs and wolf spiders, with no heating or cooling way out in the sticks. like 45 minutes outside of the nearest town which had 1 stoplight. we were living off of a single disability check every month which meant we only got to grocery shop once a month and my grandma had to give up on chemo after her cancer spread all over her body.

my grandfathers family has a history of suicide so ig it wouldnt surprise anyone to know he wanted to die before my grandma and tried to achieve this thru doing no physical therapy, eating like shit, & staunchly refusing to Ever go to the doctors or hospital. he would have huge outbursts when it was just the two of us about how hes dying too and no one cares and no one loves him and he wants to die. my grandma would likewise have outbursts where shed lock herself in the bathroom right across from my bedroom and wail that she was ugly now and no one loved her and she was dying.

as their caregiver i took a LOT of personal responsibility in trying to keep them alive. i would sleep in 30 minute intervals and wake up at the slightest noise in the house. they would stumble or fall and id have to scoop them up despite being smaller than either of them. bc my diet consisted almost completely of food i couldnt digest (that kept me in severe agony and lead to an insane nutritional deficit) i was going through one to two 32 packs of soda a week to fuel myself.

we would attempt to hire nurses but as they both got treatment in richmond almost 3 hours away the nurses would only ever come once or twice before quitting. the last one we ever had taught me how to access my grandmas port, clean it, administer the medication, and then properly close it again.

my grandma died around 4am the day we were planning to go see her. my grandfather was in the hospital at the time so we went to tell him as a family, to his face, but everyone else left the instant he started crying so i had to crawl into his hospital bed and hold him while he wailed into my neck. it was visceral.

when he came home, he really did his best though. he went to all of his doctors appointments, changed his whole diet & started doing physical therapy every day. we decided we would get through this together. we would be unstoppable. we could make it. my grandmother died in november, i turned 18 in december, and so as we hedged on new years we decided we could figure this out in the coming clean slate. we would be okay.

until i went out 4am new years morning and found him sweaty and despondent. i made a series of phonecalls promising all the while he would be okay and holding his hand as he went thru several seizures. finally, despite the emergency squads best attempts, he died right there in our living room. right in front of me, my new future was gone.

now, because i had turned 18, no one in my family was obligated to do anything with me after that. they left me in that house for months, alone, in the dead of winter with no heating or cable or anything to keep me sane.

our house had been set up so that i, the caregiver, could check on my grandparents from my bedroom door. it was muscle memory. i step out to use the bathroom across the hall and i glance left (my grandmas hospital bed) and then i glance right (my grandfathers recliner). and it didnt stop just because they were dead and i was alone.

occasionally someone would drop off pity groceries but that was it. i had no job, no license, no prospects. i was wracked with grief and guilt. this was my fault. i was their caregiver. i should have done better. i should have been better. i should have reacted faster. i should have advocated more. (i should have been an adult).

as you can imagine, those elapsing months were BAD. i think i spent most of it asleep. without cable, i had no one i could listen to speak to fill the silence of our house so i put on the first two hobbit movies- i had them on dvd- with my xbox and i played them. and played them. and played them. the entire time. i know both of them verbatim.

this is where the first nightmare were going to talk about comes in.

i would wander, late at night, out of my dark bedroom to the living room. because our house was so small, the living room was also the dining room, and had both the front and back doors in it. my grandpas tv would be on, shining a blinding blue white light into the living room that would be the only light.

our back door was a wall of glass on old sliding tracks. i would run to it, to the featureless black void beyond it, and lock it. and then i would hear the front door begin to creak open and bolt across the living room to slam the door shut and lock it too.

behind me, the back door would slide ajar.

and then again, the front door.

the locks were futile, they didnt work, and while i never saw what was outside i knew it wanted in and i knew it was bad.

isolated, that nightmare isnt anything really. its not very memorable, and from an outside perspective, its not very scary. it felt like it to me though, alone out there like that, alone in all the world and wracked with guilt and fear. it was immense to me then.

no.. beyond that, what makes that nightmare unique, is that i had it again. and again. and again. and every single time i fell asleep for the next 3 years. it didnt matter if it was one of my 30 minute overnight shift naps (because those didnt just go away when my grandparents died, that was hard wired from doing it my entire life), if it was broad daylight and i was napping in the passengers seat of a car, or if id just briefly dozed off at the keyboard.

every single time i fell asleep, i would have the same nightmare.

it would change marginally, in that sometimes my grandparents (one or both) would be sat in front of the tv. they both wore glasses so their eyes were entirely obscured by the bright white reflection of the flickering tv, and their skin would be slate blue-grey. entirely unreactive to me, or anything i said or did. sometimes id know they were dead, and others id beg them to see me. it never made a difference.

after months of being in that house, my aunt decided because shes a saint, she would take me in. but because i was 18 i was a legal adult and she had no responsibility to make sure i was okay or seen to. in the depths of manic depression, i had no idea which way was up, but she truly could not have cared less.

i lived there for two years, and while my cousins were a salve on my loneliness, their mother was horrific to me. she gaslit me so consistently, so entirely, that i would believe anything she told me. id spend five hours a day doing a list of chores shed given me, then shed come home and reveal a trap shed lain to catch me slacking off and tell me i was a useless lying piece of shit and needed to stop bullshitting that i had done anything and actually do it. so i would agree, and spend another 5 hours cleaning again. every single day i had off.

as you can imagine, i started lying about my work schedule and found excuses to spend hours upon hours at the local target, just milling around waiting until it was late enough to go home and go to bed.

it hit a head when she put her hands on my neck and demanded i thank her for being so gracious, tell her i love her, and then hug her. i called my mom after that (useless woman that she is) and begged for her to come get me.

here, at my moms house, is where the next nightmare comes into play.

as you can imagine, after two years of having the same nightmare every time i shut my eyes, i was getting wary. i didnt WANT to sleep anymore. i didnt want to keep having that dream. so armed with 2 brothers on different sleep schedules, i would waste as much time as i possibly could staying awake.

except, did you know sleep deprivation just makes nightmares worse? and avoiding your problems doesnt actually fix anything?

after months of this, i finally collapsed exhausted into bed, and experienced a new nightmare entirely.

i woke up, from my brothers bed where id fallen asleep, and wandered out into the house. it was still daylight, just like when id laid down, and i heard my mom call and ask me to do the dishes. sure. easy enough.

except, as i stand there at her sink washing the dishes, i begin to experience this creeping unease. this unreality, this shift on its axis that makes me nauseous and scared. and i call for my mom, "somethings wrong! mom! somethings wrong please come here! mom!"

to my horror, the spoon in my hands begins to melt and bend at my every touch and i stumble back from the sink. in horror, my knees give out, and i sink to the kitchen floor screaming for help, please please help me. somethings wrong with me please help me.

in a jolt, i wake up. im on the couch and its dusk out. i slept later than i meant to- way later. i check the time and its the tail end of when i was scheduled to work today. i panic, jumping to my feet and hollering at the family around me watching tv- "i work today! i was supposed to be at work! you guys know that, why didnt you wake me up!" my panic and frustration rose as i was entirely ignored and in a raw screaming instant, i jolted myself awake.

i was sitting in my brothers bed. it was daylight out, just like when i fell asleep. exhausted, but relieved the nightmares were over, i sat there with my feet planted on the floor trying to put them into words. my mom, sensing my unease, knocked on the doorframe and came to sit beside me.

"have you packed?" packed? for what? "youre going to be late." late? "youll miss the bus." what bus?

"to go visit grandma."

wait.. what? no thats- what?

"you need to pack, or youll miss the bus to go visit grandma."

thats not right. shes dead. mom- mom what are you saying? theres no- thats not-

as my unreality and fear bubble up bright in my chest, i heave myself off of the bed, and in an instant i jolt awake. laying in my brothers bed. it was daylight out, just like when i fell asleep.

i lay there, silent, still, panting. am i awake? am i awake now? what the fuck is happening to me?

slowly, i sit up on my elbows, just barely obscured by the headboard i notice something. a leathery spider egg. and as im realizing what it is, it bursts, and ten thousand tiny spiders come spilling out of it. terrified, for some idiotic reason my first response is to grab for my phone and whip out my camera. but as i bring it up, the spiders vanish. and its just me, alone in the room again.

and i realize with a horrible bottoming out that i dont know if im awake or not.

that feeling didnt go away for weeks.

id woken up drunk off of the nightmares and hallucinated the spiders- but i had been awake that time, really. it was difficult to convince myself of that, though, and the unreality just waiting to rip me up and into another false awakening plagued me for ages thereafter.

it was a really good way to make me stop depriving myself of sleep though lol ive never gotten that bad again since.

time moves on, and so do i. my mom kicked me out of my brothers room and made me sleep on a mattress in their filthy kitchen between the litter boxes and under the ants favorite window, which was my cue to leave. i moved cross country with my then-boyfriend and finally, finally, began to heal.

these last two are far more recent. one was from last year, and the other just a few nights ago.

i dreamt i was in my childhood home. my grandma had just died and it was me and my grandfather, lit only by the cool grey of an overcast sky outside. i was in the kitchen, asking what he wanted for dinner, when he began to stagger in the living room. i whipped around the corner to catch him, and before my very eyes his skin began to bruise.

theres a way, when a person dies, that the blood begins to settle wherever their skin meets the ground. dark ugly red-purple bruises, veins visible, mottled skin.

before my eyes, he was beginning to look just like he had that morning when the hospital finally let us see his body. i asked him what was wrong and he said he just needs to use the bathroom. he just needs to get to the toilet. so i walked him down the hall and into the bathroom and once the door was firmly locked between us, he told me,

"i did something i shouldnt have. those poisonous mushrooms- i ate them. im going to die."

and i realized in that moment that his insides were being liquified by the things. that his "need" to use the toilet was about to be a complete and utter disembowelment.

instantly, i reacted, trying to throw the door open with my shoulder, twisting the knob, begging him to open it. please please please. how could you do this. how could you do this to me. this isnt fair. please. we can fix it. please please we can fix it let me in.

please at least let me cook you dinner first. please.

please dont leave me.

i screamed myself hoarse and cried so hard i woke myself up. ive never had a dream make me cry so hard, for so long. it sat on my shoulders for weeks, weighing me down, putting me on a hairpin trigger for tears i hadnt been on in years. it felt like grief, raw and new, all over again.

and finally, this last one. it is in the ranking for the most physically id ever been effected by a dream. good god.

i was perched on the edge of a chair in a hospital room, staring at my grandmothers corpse. she was laid back, slanted somewhat to the side. bald, skinny, purple. i sat. and i stared.

the window over her head was pitch black, slate just like the old nightmares, and i was only ever vaguely aware of it. in a blink- literally- she was up. sat up, smiling, chubby with her wig on and her glasses perched on her head. she had done her makeup and the window behind her was lit up in the cool greys of dawn.

"well dont look at me like that- i just got here!" and with a laugh she gestured me over.

i threw my head back and called for a nurse, but when i turned back, already lifting myself out of my seat to run to her, she was again bald and slumped and darkness prevailed.

the nurse came through and sucked her teeth. "shes still dead, darlin'. i dont know what you want me to do about it." and with a sneer, she was gone again.

my eyes searched my grandmothers face, and after a few seconds of held breath, her eyelids began to roll and her lashes fluttered open. and again, she smiled at me and beckoned me closer.

collapsed onto her, exclaiming i missed you i missed you i love you. and she laughed and said the same. she gave me a kiss, then gestured me in for a hug and of course i complied. i missed her more than life and here she was, she was back, of course of course id hug her.

but as my arms scooped beneath her armpits to lift her into me, the face against my throat went cold, and hard, and the arm i had propped up swung stiff with rigor mortis and bounced off of me.

when i say that nightmare left me in a daze, im not sure how else id even put it. i was shaking head to toe, on the verge of vomiting, vision tunneling and blurring continually as i stumbled through the house. it was early- around 5am when i woke up- so i was alone. i sat down at the kitchen table and lost an hour to it.

around 6 i woke my husband up in much the same state, tear drenched and trembling, curling into myself to stay standing, and by seven he had managed to bring me back down to earth. ive never had a physical reaction like that at all, nevermind so long, and so severe. it was fcking awful.

#i did NOT reread this so if its insane and full of typos sorryyyy #i just need to talk about it or ill die i guess #now that ive wasted an hour i should really make some breakfast and start work huh

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koogl001 · 2 years ago

Note

Headcanons for female reader with a fit/slightly muscular body from being a wrestler when she was alive and Alastor can not stop touching and squeezing her muscles because to him, defined muscles on a woman was different.

One-Shots and Headcanons Masterlist

You met Alastor while cruising thru the Pentagram City

Some asshole tried to rob you, but he sure didn’t count on you being able to defend yourself

As an ex-pro wrestler, you knew how to subdue someone within seconds

When Alastor watched you take the piece of filth down, he noted that you looked different than the women of his era and you sure had an interesting fighting style

He knew of wresting, but he never saw it in action and seeing you completely dominate the thief, he became curious

He approached you, claiming that your little display of power was quite entertaining and wanted to gain a bit more information about both your fighting style and you as a person

When you told him you learned your skills while you were still among the living it took him by surprise

He would have thought you did so solely to defend yourself here in hell but to pick it up as a hobby while still in the world of the living, how intriguing

After all, during his life fighting was an activity only men could partake in as it would be unbecoming of a woman to act so crudely

Over the course of getting to know you, Alastor would challenge you to a fight without using his abilities

He wanted to know just how effective this wresting could be

He sure got his answer as he was laying underneath you on the ground, it was the first time he lost ever since he arrived here in Hell

You thought he would be furious about that, but to him this only made you more interesting in his eyes

A woman that can overpower a man, what a novelty to him it was

As your relationship progressed, he’s likely to ask you to stop with your training as he sees it as his responsibility to protect you as the man

Yeah, I know it sounds pretty sexist but what can you expect from someone who lived in a different era, with different standards and traditions

You’ll politely refuse his request, after all if he was to leave you or if he was not present during a fight, you needed to be strong enough to protect yourself at the very least

He’s fascinated with your muscles, he’ll poke and squeeze them, carving how they feel into his memory

He’ll make fun of you for being “manly”, secretly hoping to rile you up

He’ll deliberately manipulate others into attacking you just so he can watch you mop the floor with them but only when he is present

After all, if the fight would get out of hand or too much for you, he needed to come to your rescue

Sees it only fitting that one of the most powerful overlords shall have a powerful spouse

Will switch your clothes with the exact same models but only slightly smaller so that your muscles are more visible though the clothing

If someone makes fun of you because of your body, calling you a manly-man (Cough cough Angel Dust cough cough) they might as well prepare to find out if you can indeed die twice

He’s the only one who is allowed to poke fun at you

After every fight/training session, be it with himself or someone else, he’ll tend to your bruises and scratches tenderly while kissing them one at a time

“My little fighter, I shall protect and love you for all eternity”

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fresne999 · 9 months ago

Text

For the Story is Long and Takes a Long Time

Every now and then I see a post float across my dash about younger folks (my lawn is a field of local plants and and drip watered, please enjoy) wanting an algorithm for AO3 or only wanting longer fic, or blah, blah. Not sure how much of that is pervasive and not folks grumping at the sky.

But this is the grumping at the sky site, so whatever.

Ever wondered what the labor involved in a long fic looks like? Wonder no longer, here's a line graph.

This represents the kind of sustained labor required to finish a maybe (I'm not done yet) 350k work.

It's not a single story. It's 18 stories from 18 POV that braid around similar (but not identical because people observe different things) events. It's OFMD modern AU.

Nothing is posted. I don't post unfinished stories. I learn too much while I write for that to ever work for me. Even if I have an outline.

Now you may wonder, how did I come up with graph? Probably not, but I'm going to explain anyway.

After working on and off on the project (the reason it doesn't start at zero) I decided to apply some techniques I use for project management. What I'm about to describe can be used for any type of complicated project.

Step 1

-Break the "project" down into milestones. 18 stories. I've also broken it down into 4 phases per story: 1) Write draft 1, 2) Edit, 3) Have you heard of 2nd edit? 4) Hopefully we're at Spag edit.

Step 2 -

Assign points to every milestone.

I use this sequence of #s*: 0, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34. Want to sound fancy. That's a Fibonacci Sequence. Now you know.

Using this numbering sequence keeps me from getting bogged down trying to decide if a big story is say 8 or 9 points if I were using a 1-10 sequence

The principle behind this kind of point assignment goes something like this. It's hard to look at Stede and know how tall he/the actor is. But if you look at Stede and Izzy standing together, I roughly know who is taller.

A - Or in this case, I guess the Stede story will be longer than Izzy's story. So Stede= 34, and Izzy=21.

B - Break down the phases of writing and assign them points.

3 Start writing. At the end of one week, figure out my points completed. Should be a % of the total possible points for that milestone/phase. My method involves a lot of formulas based on 20 years of project mangagement experience. You should just guess. Divide by 7. That's the "build" rate.

Divide the total number of points for the project by the build rate, that's the # of days it will probably take. That seem to long, establish an arbitrary date to finish and divide the number of points by that number of days and that's you're "Management Assigned an Arbitrary Date and I don't know if we can finish, but let's try" rate.

4 Keep writing and editing. Track as you go. Having a much smaller goal each day than "Finish it" to reach each day makes it easier to do. It's also easier than an arbitrary # of words a day, which, shrug, we're not Dickens. We're paid by the kudo, not the word.

Know how I know? I've been working on and off on this for 2 years. Here's what that (roughly) looks based on knowing how long I spent getting 4 of the stories thru writing and first edit by the time I got to March of this year. I file creation to last revision date, but not including the long periods in between writing, and knowing several times I had to remove huge amounts of writing. So, points went away. Sad sound.

That looks like this.

Brought to you by, I need to finish more points today, but am tired.

#ofmd #ofmd fanfic #fanfic #writing techniques #project mangement

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theberrybrothel · 2 months ago

Text

Berry Brothel: Penny's Halloween Party

Penny was so excited that she was practically skipping down the hallway she was going to have so much fun with her volunteers. She had stopped by the lab to pick up the decoration cart and was now almost to the grand hall. Once she was there she scanned the room to get an idea of what she was working with. The grand hall was an event space, a large plain room with a raised dais at one end that sported an ornate throne at the center that was used for a guest of honor or whoever was in charge of the orgy that was to take place. For the V.I.P party later tables had been set up along with a dance floor. 9 people were milling around the room, all were dressed the same in orange jack o lantern t-shirts and black pants. 3 were distinctly male 5 female and the rest weren’t obvious enough for Penny to tell not that it mattered all that much they all could have been genderless aliens for all she cared so long as she got to have her fun Penny pressed a button on the remote clipped to her belt and summoned a skeleton dj and booth on one side of the room. The skeleton went thru some routine hype animations then began playing the music she had queued calliope music drifts out from the skeletons speakers finally getting the attention of the volunteers. The group watched with spine tingling attention as Penny’s tall thin form drifted into the room dressed as a clown and accompanied by calliope music that seemed to fill the room.

She pointed to one of the male volunteers and one of the female ones “You two come with me”. She led the pair up onto the dais and had them flank each side of the throne. She filled both caldrons with an assortment of chocolate drops, then took a single piece from each bowl and pressed it into the volunteers mouth. “A small treat, for your hard work, but don't have too many, they are quite potent.” With that she began to back away, grabbing a smaller caldron along with the hand of another male volunteer, she dragged him to the back of the room and fed him one of the candies, leaving the small caldron with him. ”I'm saving you for later as my special treat!”. As she approached the remaining volunteers, she caught the pair on the dais each sneaking a few more candies into their mouths.

Smiling broadly she passed out cups to 5 volunteers Eeniey, Meenie, Mineey, Moe and Sue she named them in her mind. The first Eeniey and Meenie were both women. Mineey and Sue both men and Moe she wasn’t sure about, but again it didn't really matter

“Ok, so that takes care of seating”. She said, more to herself than anyone in particular. “So now balloons. but first a drink”! She poured soda into the five volunteer cups before cracking open a water bottle and holding it out for a toast. The volunteers nervously clinked their cups and downed the contents. Eeniey let out a loud burp that made Penny giggle. She pulled a helium tank from the cart, and had the team start blowing up an assortment of orange and black balloons that floated to the ceiling.

She strolled up to the one remaining volunteer, a young blond woman “What is your name friend?” Penny asked

“Lydia” the girl said nervously, fear evident all over her body.

“Well Lydia, you have drawn a golden ticket for tonight's party. Have a bit of this.” Penny handed the girl a piece of gum. Instead of the normal blue cube, this gum was orange and had a vaguely cinnamon smell to it “Chew this and come with me”. Penny dragged the girl to the center of the dance floor “See this square you are standing on?” Penny asked sweetly, making her voice drip with poisoned honey “DON'T LEAVE IT!” the volunteer screeched as Penny yelled the last phrase at her, shaking her head frantically to make Penny understand that she understood. Penny smiled again. She never got to play with people this much and she was loving it.

Penny walked back over to the balloon team, noticing that the pair on the dais were now sneaking handfuls of candy instead of just pieces. And was that just the touch of a belly she saw pushing against the man’s shirt. The woman's tits seemed to be just a bit more full “Guess they both are a pair of greedy piggies” Penny thought, knowing full well this was her plan from the start.

. She walked over to Eeniey who was watching the balloon float to the ceiling wistfully. “You like balloons?” Penny asked. She took over the task of balloon filler from Mineey who stepped away muttering something about feeling bloated.

“Yeah” Eeniey said in a thick Brooklyn accent “I just love watching them float”

“Well that's good cause in a moment you’ll float too” Penny teased

“What do you mean?” Eeniey asked, a mixture of confusion and fear crossing her face.

“Just as I said you’ll float too” Penny took the end of the hose, jammed it into Eeniey’s mouth, and opened the air to full. Penny felt Eeniey’s stomach press against her almost immediately, as the air rushed into her. The soda she had the volunteers toast with had made their skin elastic so that all five would blow up into nice big balloons.

“And sure” Penny thought “I could have told them that, and had them make a nice ordered line to inflate themselves. but where would be the fun in that?” With the tank open to full Eeniey was blowing up quickly. her arms and legs becoming turgid, taking on a starfish shape. Her eyes pleading with Penny in fear, as she struggled to balance on one foot. Eeniey’s belly was peeking out of her shirt like a beer gut, navel half exposed. When her tits started to inflate as well, blowing up like big balloons until they stuck out farther than her belly. Penny stuck the air hose into Eeniey’s cleavage “Here hold this'’. she said, taking a step back. She giggled as Eeniey struggled to reach the tube between her tits, fighting the air pressure in her arm along with the sheer size of her inflated bust she couldn’t reach it.

Penny looked around the room, Meenie, Mineey, Moe and Sue were all backing away from the swelling Eeniey. Meenie and Mineey with clear looks of fear that they would be next. Sue was sporting an obvious erection as he watched Eeniey’s growth, lust filling his face. Moe on the other hand was staring at Penny with a look that hoped they would be the next victim. Penny made a note to save Moe for last.

Over at the dance floor Lydia’s body had turned green from head to toe. Much to Lydia’s delight, she admired her hand the way other women admired a fresh manicure. Her other hand was rubbing her stomach slowly, maybe to clear up a little bloating, or maybe because she is filling with pumpkin.

On the dais, the pair of volunteers-Hansel and Gretel. Penny decided for obvious reasons.- Had stopped being coy and were now just shoving handfuls of candy into their mouths, mechanically lost in a trance of sugar. Both were sporting identical soft bellies that were starting to appear from under the bottom of their shirts. Gretel also seemed to have added a bit of width to her hips and thighs. Penny suspected that if she could see her rear she would have quite the bubble growing. Hansel seemed to just be getting bigger all over, a layer of fat covering every inch of his body. Penny sighed to herself. The candy they were eating dulled the senses as well as intensified cravings. It was efficient, but it did make both Hansel and Gretal no fun to play with. Neither would respond to any amount of taunting, or teasing so she would have to focus on playing with her balloons.

Turning her attention back to Eeniey, the poor girl was now sporting a pair of twin balloons for a backside, tapering down her spread eagle form. Penny saw that the helium was having its effect as well. Eenieys was standing with the balls of her feet as if someone had shoved a pair of high heels under her feet. Air continued to pump into her belly, pressing out several feet in front of her. She continued to struggle to remove the air hose from her mouth. With arms that could no longer bend, and were rapidly being pulled into her spherical body it was next to hopeless. Penny took a step back from the spherical girl to admire her handy work. The girl was starting to look like an inflated parody of a woman, with breasts that surpassed the letters of the alphabet, and an ass that was even larger. All attached to a body that was all belly. Her body wasn't fat though soft or sagging with cellulite that would weigh her down, rather her skin was tight and taut and a little springy to the touch. Also she was now floating off the ground, her limbs-forearms and calves- swinging around wildly as she tried to get purchase anywhere on the ground. Penny waited for a few moments longer so that Eeniey’s inflated body absorbed her limbs to the wrist and ankles. Then she turned the air valve off, she didn't want to pop her balloon after all.

Penny got to work decorating the new balloon. First she removed the tatters of remaining clothing from Eeniey’s wrist and ankles. Then from the cart she pulled a large white cloth that she wrapped around the lower hemisphere of the balloon, carefully fixing it in place with an oversized safety pin. Next she attached a baby bonnet to Eeniey’s head and proceeded to remove the air house and replace it with an over sized pacifier. Looking at now inflated baby balloon Penny smiled and let go of the pacifier ring. Allowing the new balloon to float skyward and come to rest at the ceiling of the hall along with the normal orange and black balloon that had been released earlier.

Penny looked at the remaining 4 soon to be balloons “Lets have some fun shall we?” She pressed a button on her control pad and the lights in the room went out.

In the darkness Penny pressed another button on the control pad, restoring a little light to the room. A pair of spotlights aimed at Hansel and Gretal, who were both fattening up nicely as they both continued to shove candy into their mouths. Penny smiled at Gretal’s thighs which were plumping up quite a lot. Her once prominent thigh gap was swallowed to the knee by soft flesh. She was going to make quite a comfy seat once she was filled up. Hansel wasn't shaping up quite as nicely; his belly had started to become his most prominent feature, a large dome sticking out about 6 inches in front of him. It looked hard and swollen and would be uncomfortable on one's back. Penny hoped it would start to soften soon or she might have to trade one of her balloons to make another chair.

Speaking of bellies Lydia’s was also sticking out proudly, closer to 8 inches. The green girl was caressing and rubbing her swollen gut the way a pregnant woman would. Balancing her body out were the twin globes of her rear which had pulled the waistband of her pants down to show a tramp stamp of a blue curvy girl with a pair of short men on either side..a pre inflated Violet flanked by oompa loompa’s Penny guessed. This girl was severely devoted to her fetish no wonder she had volunteered for tonight.supporting the tramp stamp Lydia’s thighs had also thickened up stretching out the pants she was wearing to the point that they were becoming see through revealing more green skin under them.

In the now dim room Penny located Sue the male volunteer who had gotten hard watching his team member inflate. He was weakly hiding under a table, peeking out now and again to check if Penny had started to inflate someone else yet. Penny skipped a roundabout route toward him. The bells on her costume jiggled as she did so. “Come out, come out” she sang “I need 4 more themed party balloons, and I think you are next”. She grabbed Sue by the shoulder and shoved the air hose into his mouth. Penny watched as the air filled him up. His belly inflates like a balloon, similar to Hansel. She had worked at the brothel for quite a while, and she found she never quite enjoyed watching men inflate as much as women. Women had lots of fleshy areas to blow up, hips, tits, ass, but men only seem to have their bellies. Still what was fun about Men was their egos, they were so much fun to taunt and tease.

”You seemed to enjoy watching her blow up”. She flicked her eyes up to Eeniey, who was settling on the ceiling.”I figured you wanted to join her”. She looked down under his bloating belly, and saw his erection bulging from under his pants. She gave it a teasing stroke. “Is that what is causing you discomfort? Do you want to float too?'' The seam of his jeans split right down the leg, no match for the pressure that was pressing through his body. Once the first seam was split it didn't take very long for the rest of the pants to fall away from his inflating body.

“There now, isn't that better? Don’t you feel lighter now?” Penny teased. She watched as Sue started to rise off the floor. His spread eagle form, still inflating. His eyes wide as he shook his head back and forth trying to say something through the gag “Oh I get it now” Penny said with mock realization “I can be a bit of a ditz sometimes. You want to be in my place don't you? You like being the one holding the hose. Controlling the rate of inflation”

Sue shook his head “yes”

“Well guess the shoe is on the other foot today. and you get to feel what it's like to be on the other end of the hose. Powerless and at the mercy of a ditzy clown”. Penny watched for a few more minutes as Sue rounded out a bit more, then she pulled a pair of gray sweatpants out from the cart. This pair was so large Penny was sure five of her would be able to easily fit inside them. She fittend them around what was now Sue’s lower hemisphere. Next she adjusted his top so his stomach was fully on display. She pulled the hose so she was close to his mouth “Kiss me fat boy!” She laughed, replacing the air hose with a gag that looked like a cheeseburger, and waved as the big fat balloon that was Sue joined Eeniey’s big baby on the ceiling.

Penny made her way over to Lydia who was still on the dance floor slowly ripening into a pumpkin before her very eyes the tramp stamp of Violet was now entering the plump stage lagging behind its Mistress by a step or two. Lydia was bent over pulled down by the weight of her massive stomach when she saw Penny checking on her. She gave her ass a little wiggle, not that there was much wiggle in the twin orbs. The pumpkin filling was making her flesh taut and sensitive. One hand was still caressing her heavy stomach the other was now rubbing her swelling ass. With a rip a tear cut across the seat of her pants revealing a pair of black panties that were also stretching to their limits. Penny’s hand snaked into the tear rubbing Lydia’s ass forcefully “Aw” she teased “did someone get a bit too big for their britches?” Lydia bit her bottom lip to stifle a moan as she nodded her head wildly. Oddly Lydia's breast seemed to have just been absorbed into her belly without any growth of their own. They had just merged into the smooth surface of her front. Penny was a bit put off by this. Playing with a victim's breast was always fun for her. But she would make do. She leaned over and whispered into Lydia’s ear “Ill bet you would make quite a tasty pie once we get you pumped nice and full of cream”.

“Please” was all Lydia could eek out.

“Not yet my little Pumpkin. We need you nice and eager for the V.I.Ps”

Checking in on the pair on the dais they were growing into a cute pair of fatties. Gretal’s belly was on full display. Having escaped the confines of her shirt, it had grown into a pair of thick rolls. Penny knew they would only keep getting thicker. Even the woman’s arms had grown soft and jiggly. Penny saw as she watched Gretal robotically bring another handful of candy to her waiting mouth. Rips and tears had started to appear all over Gretel's pants, little marshmallows of flab poking out from them as her weight climbed steadily higher. Gretal’s cheeks had gotten so plump and chipmunk-like, Penny just wanted to run over and mush them together, feeling Gretal jaw moving under all the fluff. She stopped herself. Messing with Gretal would slow down her eating, and Penny couldn’t have that she had a schedule to keep.

Penny grabbed a pink syringe off of her cart as she scanned the room for Meenie. When a rattling caught her attention, it was Mineey who was trying to get out of the banquet hall. Penny held up the remote tauntingly, “Not going to work” she yelled to Mineey ``You are in my playroom now. And don't worry soon you’ll float too. just like your friends' ' She looked around and found Meenie hiding behind the large chair in the center of the Dais, flanked by Hansel and Gretals growing forms. Penny strolled over to the woman casually brandishing her needle.

“You won't inflate me clown! I volunteered to help set up the party, not be part of the decor!” Meeney shouted.

“Guess you should have read your contract a little closer then pretty thing”. Penny said, as she jabbed Meeney with the needle. “But don't worry, after the party you will get everything it promised. We dealt fairly with our customers and volunteers''. Penny moved the air hose between the woman’s lips and opened the air hose.

The pink cocktail she injected Meeney with slightly altered her transformation, rather than inflating her belly like the first two, the air was inflation Meeney’s bust almost tearing her shirt off with the speed they inflated. A small rip did appear in the collar

“Mmh mmh” she cried, as her hands cupped her inflating tits. Penny watched as Meeney felt the pressure of the air move lower to her ass and hips, giving the woman the most extreme hourglass shape. Watching the inflating woman helplessly get bigger Penny set to work getting her into costume. First she affixed a large blond wig to the Meenie’s head. The air hadn't really reached Meeney’s arms yet so her hands were free to explore the costume she was being dressed in. Holding a strand of hair from the wig she cocked her head with a confused “Mmh?”

“Yes very good”. Penny taunted. “Blond. It can be hard to see up there, So we want everyone to know you're a blond bimbo right?” Penny looked up at the woman in front of her. Meeney’s tits had grown larger than Penny’s head. The T-shirt she had been wearing now sat like an awkward vest, framing the vast amount of cleavage Meeney now had on display. Cleavage that was now starting to pull her towards the ceiling. Feet hovering a foot or two from the floor Penny took this opportunity to attach a pair of pink lucite heels to the woman’s feet. The weight of the shoes brought Meeney back to earth for a few more minutes.

Meeney tried to stretch her legs out to see her feet over her tits, but her joints had become stiff. Immobilizing her even if she wasn't a giant ball like the others. The woman’s hips were starting to get too big to fit through a normal sized door, making her oversized hourglass even more of a parody. The leggings she had been wearing had seen better days as well, stretched to their limits, they were now mostly see through and would probably fall off soon.

“Arms up” Penny said. She slid a giant sized pink tube top down Meeney’s body. positioning it so that it just wrapped around Meeney’s inflated tits leaving her midriff exposed.

Meeney forced her hands onto her hips and pressed on them with all her remaining strength. And felt her hips give and deflate, becoming just a bit smaller. Unfortunately the air had to go somewhere. It found a home in her tits inflating them even bigger then they had been before. Penny shoved Meeney’s hands off her hips ``Stop that! do you want to pop your tits?” Meeney’s eyes went wide. She had never thought about that. Penny removed the overtaxed leggings, now so stretched out they were closer to stockings. She then slid up a lime green thong and a pair of denim daisy duke cut offs leaving them unbuttoned just to complete the trashy look. She gave Meeney’s ass a slap of approval, making the bimbo squeak in surprise. The fear of popping quelled any more movement from the bimbo balloon even as her wrists attached themselves to her hips and her hands turned out in a very girly way.

Hansel’s body was finally starting to soften up much to Penny’s relief, his belly sagging and drooping past his knees. His man boobs resembled drooping c cups. Under his thick beard Penny wondered if a second chin was developing. The denim of his jeans seemed to be quite strong with not much seam popping despite the amount of strain they must be under. Next to him Penny saw Gretel's legs starting to strain. A few more handfuls and she would collapse onto that massive bean bag chair of cellulite that was her ass. Her pants now a heap of fabric that littered the area around her. Her belly looked much like Hansel’s a drooping sack of lard that was nearly past her knees. “Funny” Penny thought “Hansel's tits are bigger”.

Lydia had broken Penny’s one rule and left the square of the dance floor she had been placed on. But it wasn't really Lydia’s fault the weight of her stomach had gotten so heavy she had been pulled forward until she was resting on it. her legs from her knees down flailed uselessly as she tried to get a foot on the floor. The pants that she had started with now lay in tatters all around her, the growth of her body having become too much for the cheap fabric. Her t-shirt was bunched up around her neck and elbows, having slowly slid up her body as she belly expanded out from under it. Her ass hips and stomach had now merged together into a single cylinder that was rapidly widening, most of her front having already been absorbed and her back growing out to make a firmer round shape. Her arms were also flailing wildly as they tried to reach the ground to push herself back up but it was also useless she was stuck making small circles until Penny could be bothered to help her. Maybe she had some sort of dildo on that cart of hers Lydia hoped so the intensity of the transformation made Lydia feel like she had been edged for days and now she just needed a release Lydia hope she would soon her sensitive skin was just begging to be touched.

Returning back to Meeney, Penny was pleased to see that the bimbo balloon was now fully inflated and ready for release. Removing the hose she fitted a gag over her that looked like a set of cock pillows, puckered and ready to suck. Once the gag was in place she watched as the Bimbo joined the Blimp and the Baby on the ceiling, before preparing for her next victim.

Penny found Mineey still trying to get out though the door. “Your turn”. She said. As she jammed the air hose in between his lips, Penny felt the air rush through the hose and into Mineey’s mouth, the pressure building up in his stomach creating a bulge in his t-shirt. Slowly the fabric receded and the dome of flesh came halfway into view.

Penny had to work quickly to get Mineey into costume before he got too big. She grabbed the jumpsuit from the cart and began shoving Mineey’s foot into it. Mineey offered very little help or resistance, focusing instead on trying to pull the hose from his mouth, which was proving as cooperative as the doors he had been struggling with earlier. The dome of his belly had now grown out into a spare tire that wrapped around the man’s middle. Penny had gotten both of his feet into the suit and looked at him “You know resistance is futile right? Give me your arm”. Something in her tone finally got through his pointless struggling, and with a defeated sound Mineey went limp, and allowed Penny to zip him into the blue jumpsuit and wrap the thick red belt around him.

The outfit was loose on him currently, but that was rapidly changing. the spare tire had thickened around his body until he could be better described as barrel chested. The middle part of the barrel started to put pressure on the jumpsuit, right in the middle of the belt.Mineey laid down on the ground; defeated. Waiting for his body to begin floating, Penny watched as Mineey’s arms raised further and further up until he was spread eagle on the ground, the barrel shape of his body becoming more and more spherical until he was just a blue ball with a red stripe around it.

Penny wiped a bit of blue face paint onto his hands, and face just as the bottom of his body left the ground to begin its journey skyward. “Don’t be so blue," she said. “After the party we will deflate you and you will get your rewards”.She fitted him with a gag that looked like a stick of a lollipop and let him fly, to join his teammates on the ceiling.

A thud behind Penny made her look up from her work. On the Dais Gretal’s legs had given out, and she had crashed to the floor. It did not slow her eating as she kept shoving handfuls of candy into her mouth. The size of belly and thighs allowed the latter to be able to touch the floor between her legs, a full apron of cellulite that was melting her feminine form into a mountain of flab. Looking over Penny saw that Hansel was not far behind, from the way his gut wall quivering his knees would only be able to handle a few more pounds before they collapsed sending him to the floor as well. His pants seem to have given up the ghost at some point when Penny wasn't looking having torn right up the seams; they were only held up by the weight of Hansel's gut pressing against what little remained of the waist band.

Lydia was almost ripe. All the clothing she had started with had been torn away; her swelling body was now in its final form a round pumpkin with flapping hands and feet and a tiny head even her hair had been changed, into the round stem of the pumpkin. Lydia’s tramp stamp had caught up to her; the once curvy blue woman now was stretched out to resemble the same giant blue ball as her movie counterpart. But one last touch was needed starting right where her navel had been Lydia felt a warmth start to grown slowly spreading out. This was different they the bloated full feeling she had when she was expanding but she couldn't see what it was. Penny however could. Lydia’s green skin was turning proper orange like a rash spreading out. Covering every inch of Lydia’s bloated body until she was a perfect orange pumpkin. Ripe and ready she was the perfect centerpiece for the halloween party.

One last balloon to fill and she would be all done. Then she could have her treat. Moe was sitting at one of the tables close to the center of the room waiting patiently for her turn. Penny handed them a bundle of straps. “Put this on please and we can get started”. They followed directions without a word, stripping off their jeans and t-shirt, their body shaking with excitement. The submissive outfit came complete with a collar that read ‘Penny’s Plaything’ in Barbie script.

Once Moe was set in the loose straps, Penny leaned close to Moe’s ear as she slid the air hose past their lips “You know what my favorite treat is at the carnival?” She walked her fingers up the tube stuck in their mouth.

Moe shook their head as they watched her fingers with a mix of arousal and fear.

“Popcorn. I just love watching it go Pop. Pop. POP! With the last word Penny opened the air valve one last time. As the rush of air surged into Moe, bloating their stomach, the soda had the most time to work on the final victim so their expansion was very quick. Like the others their belly was first to inflate, quickly taking on the characteristic dome shape. Moe began caressing their swollen gut like a pregnant woman, lightly pressing and massaging the flesh. Then their ass began to swell, each cheek filling the straps of the outfit. Until they were tight around the inflating flesh. Penny gave each cheek a firm slap that made Moe gasp with pleasure.

The spare tire began to form and Moe's body started to look like it was made of three rapidly growing spheres, all of which were gaining in size. Penny had to take a step back to avoid being hit. Moe ran her hands all over their growing body, feeling and pressing into their skin paying special attention to the inflation of their backside, sensually rubbing their ass cheeks as the straps of the outfit began to cut in deeper. They kept up this tactile pleasure as their body slowly rounded out, and their feet left the floor, until their limbs began to get too stiff to bend, and they were forced to allow them to spring to their sides. Once fully inflated, Penny pulled them in for a kiss and to fit a large pink ball gag into their mouth before releasing them and allowing them to enjoy the ride up to the ceiling, where they then joined the other balloons.The Baby, The Blueberry, The Bimbo, The Blimp, and last The Toy. All the balloons now inflated Penny stored the empty air tank in a storage room in the back of the hall before doing one last check on the other decorations

Hansel and Gretal had both reached the final stage of transformation from people to furniture. They were both a puddle of fat and rolls too heavy to move; they both lay on their backs struggling to reach the candy bowls that had fallen out of reach. Penny came over and picked up both bowls. Taking the handle, she affixed it to the back of the immoble fatties heads, so that all they had to do was tilt their head for the candy to fall into their mouths. Their feed bags firmly in place, Penny gave each of them a firm press. They were both quite comfy to sit on like a memory foam mattress they had just the right amount of give. She couldnt wait to watch someone get fucked on those massive bellies.

Penny came over to Lydia with a bucket of paint and brush. “Oompa Loompa doompity doo” she hummed. With a push forced Lydia upright so she was resting on her crotch. Lydia’s bloated face contorted with pleasure as she rocked back and forth on her pleasure center. “Feeling nice and ripe up there?” Penny called up to where Lydia’s head hid

A quiet “MMh” was all that came back.

“I must say I was right about you. You do make a very cute pumpkin. The V.I.P’s will have a lot of fun having their way with you. Maybe you will even get to cum.” That got Lydia’s attention; she was so pent up from her transformation she would be happy to be a pumpkin plaything if it meant she would get a bit of release. She licked her swollen cock pillows tasting the Pumpkin spice of the gum eager to serve her first cock. Penny set to work painting a smiling Jack’ o lantern on Lydia’s torso hearing muffled cooing as the brush tickled the pumpkin girl’s skin.

Penny surveyed the room and her handiwork. The room looked perfect. On the dais was the throne of honor for the most important of the V.I.Ps or possibly the Owner himself flanked by two comfy looking bean bag lounge chairs that struggled and jiggled as they ate more candy from their feed bags. Balloons depicting some of their most popular acts decorated the ceiling and in the center of the hall was a large painted jack o’ lantern that was begging to be played with. Penny flopped herself down on the bean bag chair she had grown for herself in the back of the room finding his cock under the mass of rolls she began stroking and teasing it enjoying how it made her lounger quiver, shake and moan. Maybe she would use it late to relieve some of her own built up tension but for now she would just relax eagerly awaiting another halloween party at the Berry Brothel.

#blueberryinflation #blueberry expansion #weightgain #forcefeeding

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