#v: Breathing Life to Legends

[morgansmornings]

[hoshifighting]

Producer!Woozi x Celebrity!Reader

— Synopsis: You and Woozi have admired each other's work for a long time. Now, he has the opportunity to produce an album with you. Working on an album for a worldwide artist like you brings him immense joy... and turn-ons. — WC: 4.8k — WARNINGS: Smut, studio sex (Universe Factory), oral (f.receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, aftercare, reader fangirling over Woozi shirtless in Ruby's M/V mentioned.

Your name is splashed across big screens from Times Square to the Grammy Awards. Music didn't just enter your life; it crashed in, loud and powerful, sweeping you off your feet. It became your everything. 

You went from singing in front of millions of people to strumming your guitar alone in a poorly illuminated room, lost in your own world. Music was your passion, your escape, and your purpose all rolled into one.

With that passion came endless opportunities. You were constantly on the move, traveling from one country to another, meeting people you once only dreamed of being in the same room with. You found yourself breathing the same air as your idols, sharing stages with legends. 

Friendships blossomed, some fast and fleeting, others deep and lasting. The world knew your name. Your songs played in every state, on every continent, bridging gaps between different cultures and bringing people together.

Those cultures left a mark on you too. 

You soaked in the richness of each place, each new experience shaping your music and your perspective. You remembered your early days, the hunger for inspiration, the late-night searches for new artists. 

One night, you stumbled upon a webcam live stream with a bunch of boys in a neon green melona room. You laughed and loved watching them, their energy infectious even through a screen. You became a fan, following their journey as you built your own.

But here's the thing about being a superstar: time is never on your side. Your schedule was always packed, and despite being in contact with some of the Seventeen members through DMs and mentioning your admiration for them in interviews, meeting them in person was a challenge. You were in Seoul for a tour once, and they appeared on your show, but there was never enough time to truly connect.

Now, after years of hectic schedules and fleeting encounters, you finally had a moment to breathe. You were working on a new album, and for the first time in a long time, you had the opportunity to switch things up. Your usual producers were fantastic, but this time, something different was calling you. An opportunity was waiting in South Korea, and it had your heart racing with excitement.

You, your manager, and the company representing the group had been in talks for months, working out the details. The goal was clear: to collaborate with Woozi, the musical genius from Seventeen, on your new album. 

When your team informed Woozi that you had just arrived at HYBE, his palms began to sweat. He never imagined he’d get to work with someone of your caliber. The fact that you specifically wanted to work with him made it all the more surreal.

As you walked through the HYBE building, your assistant and one of the staff members gave you a tour. You were almost giddy with excitement. The walls were lined with photos and awards, the air buzzing with creativity. When you finally approached the recreation area and spotted Woozi, his cheeks turned a shade of red. He was nervous, but seeing you smile so brightly at the sight of him sent a sense of relief through his system. 

You were genuinely happy to see him.

As you step into the recreation area and see Woozi standing there, your cheeks flush a deep red. You can’t contain your excitement. "Woozi, I'm so happy to see you," you say, extending a hand, unsure if a hug would be appropriate.

He senses your shyness, and, in a moment of genuine openness, he breaks through his own reserve and gives you an awkward hug. It's brief and a bit clumsy, but it’s sincere. As you pull away, you swear this is the happiest moment of your life.

"I’ve admired your work for so long," you say, your eyes sparkling with genuine admiration. "Your music is incredible."

Woozi shakes his hands in front of him, a shy smile spreading across his face. His long hair swings slightly as he responds, "Oh, no, really, it’s nothing compared to what you’ve done. I'm honestly just honored to be here with you."

You laugh softly, feeling a bit more at ease. "Are you kidding? I still remember hearing your solo for the first time and just being blown away."

Woozi's cheeks tint pink as he looks down, scratching the back of his head. "Thank you, that means a lot coming from you. I remember when we all watched your first big performance. We were in our green room, and we were all just in awe."

You grin, recalling that exact moment you first saw them. "I remember that! I was so inspired by you guys. It’s amazing how things come full circle, isn’t it?"

He nods, his eyes meeting yours with shyness "It really is. I never thought I’d get the chance to work with someone I looked up to so much." Woozi chuckles softly, breaking the silence. "By the way, I saw your post on Twitter about wanting to visit the Universe Factory—my studio."

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you cover your face with your hands. "Oh my God, you guys see my tweets? Oh nooo!"

He laughs, a sound that's both comforting and infectious. "Yeah, they're hard to miss," he admits. "And I may have received a few screenshots of your reaction from 'Ruby'." 

You gasp, mortified as memories of your tweets flood back. You remember typing frantically about needing a defibrillator when Woozi appeared shirtless in the music video. "Oh no, those tweets. I can't believe you saw those."

He’s grinning. "It's okay, really. It was kind of sweet to be honest. We all had a good laugh about it."

Peeking through your fingers, you sigh. "Well, now that my embarrassment is out in the open, I guess it’s only up from here, right?"

Woozi grins, a twinkle in his eye. "Absolutely. Besides, it’s nice to know we have mutual fans of each other’s work. It makes this collaboration even more special."

You nod, recalling how your fanbase and Seventeen’s had always gotten along so well. “Our fans really hit it off, didn’t they? It’s like they’ve been rooting for this collaboration all along.”

Woozi smiles and gestures for you to follow him. “Come on, let me show you the Universe Factory.”

Walking into his studio, you’re immediately struck by how incredible it looks. Purple lights cast a calming glow over the space, and the view from the windows is breathtaking. Everything, from the colors to the high-tech equipment, is perfectly arranged. You can tell he put a lot of effort into making this place special.

“Wow, Woozi, this is amazing,” you say, your eyes wide with admiration. “I always saw photos of your studio, but in person, it’s even better.”

“Thanks, but it’s just a studio.” Woozi’s shy smile returns, but there’s a sparkle in his eyes. “I wanted it to be just right for when you got here. I spent the whole week cleaning and moving things around. Even used some scented sprays.”

You laugh, feeling a snugness in your chest. “You didn’t have to go through all that trouble for me, but I appreciate it.”

He shrugs, his smile widening. “I wanted everything to be perfect.”

Woozi shows you some of the instrumentals he’s been working on, and they’re incredible. The beats blend seamlessly with the lyrics you sent him, and you can already hear the potential for something amazing. He’s practically buzzing with enthusiasm to hear how your voice will mesh with his music.

“Let’s get you in the recording room,” Woozi says, leading you to the booth.

You put on the headphones and glance through the glass at Woozi in the control room. As you start warming up your voice, he watches with a small smile. You can see him scoffing lightly, clearly amused by your funny warm-up techniques.

He presses the intercom button. “I’m definitely going to use that later.”

You sulk playfully, giving him a pout. “Come on, don’t make fun of me.”

He laughs, the sound filling the control room. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just cute the way you warm up.”

Rolling your eyes but smiling, you turn your focus to the paper in front of you. Woozi cues up the beat, and you start with a rough draft, feeling your way through the melody. Even in this initial take, Woozi can’t help but feel impressed. Your voice is powerful, yet it fits perfectly with the track.

You glance up occasionally, catching Woozi’s eyes. He gives you a thumbs-up, his appreciation evident even through the glass. As you continue, you find yourself getting lost in the music, and Woozi’s focus never wavers. When you finish, you look up to see him grinning widely.

“That was just the warm-up?” he says, pressing the button again. “I’m really excited to hear the final version.”

You laugh, feeling a rush of confidence. “Yeah, just the warm-up. Wait till you hear the real thing.”

Woozi nods, eyes gleaming with joy. “I can’t wait. Let’s do this.”

You start to sing for real now, fully immersed in the music. The lyrics flow smoothly, and your voice dances effortlessly over the instrumentals. When it comes to a tricky melisma, you frown slightly, pausing to ask Woozi through the intercom;

"Which tone should I use for this part?"

Woozi, equally focused, listens intently as you demonstrate two different versions. Both sound amazing to him, and he takes a moment to think. He taps his chin thoughtfully before pressing the button. "Try the second one, but start a half-step higher and then slide down smoothly."

You nod, absorbing his suggestion. You take a deep breath and try it his way. The moment you hit that melisma, sliding down effortlessly, the note hangs in the air. Woozi’s eyes light up, and he gives you an enthusiastic thumbs-up from the control room.

As you're in the middle of recording, Soonyoung suddenly appears in the studio, his presence bringing an unexpected burst of energy. You catch sight of him through the glass and wave enthusiastically, a big smile spreading across your face. Soonyoung returns the gesture, his excitement palpable even from a distance. He settles on the couch behind Woozi, watching the two of you work with keen interest.

Woozi presses the intercom button and gives you a nod. "Try going a bit higher for the adlibs."

You nod and sing the section, hitting the high notes while looking at Woozi for confirmation. He listens intently, his gaze dark in focus. “You did so good. That was perfect.”

You can hear Soonyoung’s voice from the back. “He never praises us like that.”

Woozi turns in his chair, giving Soonyoung a deadly glare. 

Soonyoung, unphased, grins and stretches as he stands up. “Alright, alright. I know when I’m not wanted,” he says dramatically, walking toward the door. Just as he’s about to leave, he pauses and turns back. “But after you’re done recording, we’re taking you to dinner Y/N. No excuses.”

You give him thumbs up. Feeling the warmth of their camaraderie. Woozi shakes his head but smiles, turning back to you. 

“Ignore him. Let’s finish this up. You’re doing great.”

After skipping through some tracks, you find yourself sitting in Woozi's incredibly comfortable chair, fiddling with his equipment. The buttons, dials, and sliders are all so intriguing, and you can’t help but feel like a kid in a candy store, discovering new settings and features.

Woozi watches you from a few feet away, arms crossed, a smile playing on his lipsㄧHe knows you’re no stranger to studios and equalizers, but he loves seeing the joy in your eyes as you explore his setup like it’s the coolest thing in the worldㄧHe wonders if your producers ever let you have this much hands-on control.

“Hey, Woozi, how do you tweak the master mix settings here?” you ask, looking up from the console.

He steps forward, moving behind you. His arms come to rest on either side of the chair, effectively caging you in as he leans over to type on the keyboard. 

“You just need to go into this menu,” he says, his voice low and calm. He types swiftly, his fingers dancing over the keys. “Then, adjust the settings here. See?”

You nod, trying to focus on his explanation, but the closeness is overwhelming. You can feel the warmth of his body, his head so close to yours. 

It’s hard to concentrate when you’re not even breathing.

His voice is soft and steady, his breath warm on your skin. You watch his hands move expertly, typing commands and making adjustments with practiced ease. Your heart is pounding so loudly, you’re sure he can hear it.

“And here, you can add some reverb” he continues, “See how that changes the sound?”

No, not when he’s this near.

You nod, feeling a bit dazed. He tells you to try it yourself, and you reach for the adjustment, your hand hovering uncertainly over the controls. Woozi lets go of the mouse and places his hand over yours, guiding it to lower and raise the equalizer. His skin is soft and warm against yours, and the contact almost makes you melt on his chair.

“Like this,” he murmurs, gently moving your hand with his. “Just a little adjustment here and there.”

You can hardly concentrate on the settings, your mind fixated on the sensation of his hand over yours. 

You turn your face slightly toward his, and he looks at you, the proximity between you almost intolerable.

Your eyes lock, and for a moment, the world outside the studio fades away. His gaze is intense, filled with something that makes your breath catch in your throat. Woozi’s hand squeezes yours lightly.

You can feel your pulse quicken. His eyes flicker to your lips for a brief second before meeting your gaze again. The moment stretches, neither of you moves, both caught in the electric current that seems to have taken over the room.

Finally, Woozi clears his throat, breaking the spell but not the connection. "There," he says softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You’ve got it."

As you try to focus on adjusting the settings, Woozi leaves your hand on the side of yours, allowing you to make the changes yourself. You manage to make the adjustments, and as the sound fills the room, Woozi's voice breaks through the silence. "That's it. You're doing great." he praises.

You swear if he praises you again like that, you’re going to fucking wet his chair. You don’t even notice that you’re biting your bottom lip, too lost in the horniness.

Woozi’s words echo in your mind as you try to focus on the task at hand, but it's hard to concentrate with the way his body looks in the black shirt he's wearing. The fabric clings to him in all the right places, emphasizing his toned physique.

Every movement he makes with his hands, seems deliberate and calculated, and you can’t tear your eyes away.

You force yourself to push the distracting thoughts aside, but it's a losing battle.

Your gaze remains fixated on his hands as he places them on the border of the desk, supporting his body. His shoulders brush against the back of your head, and you can feel his presence looming over you. It’s as if he knows exactly what’s passing through your mind.

He brushes a hand over your shoulder, the sensation lingering even after he presses it between his hands in a gentle massage. You feel his lips tentatively brush against the corner of yours.

Caught off guard, you melt into his touch, your fingers intertwining with his as you lean into the kiss. His lips are soft against yours, a perfect match to the warmth of his touch. But when he catches you melting against his hand, he doesn't pull away. Instead, he turns the chair to face him, his hand sliding behind your neck to pull you closer.

His kiss deepens, and you respond eagerly, your hands sliding to each side of his face before tangling in his hair at the back of his neck. The kiss is desperate, as if you’ve both been holding back.

But when you finally break apart, gasping for breath, you realize that you can’t resist any longer. You get up from the chair, his hands desperately grab your waist, pulling your bodies together 

The way he holds your waist makes your tank top bunch up between his fingers, his palms feeling your belly's bare skin. You whimper against his lips, "Hmm, Woozi..."

He pulls back slightly, "Jihoon," he corrects gently, "Call me Jihoon."

Your stomach flutters at the intimacy of calling him by his real name. "Jihoon," you repeat softly, savoring the sound.

He smiles, a soft, almost shy smile that makes your heart skip a beat. Then he leans in again, kissing your cheek, your jaw, and your neck. Each touch of his lips sends you on cloud nine, making you arch against his chest, your hands gripping his bicep for support.

"Jihoon," you murmur again, the name feeling more natural on your lips each time.

His hands move up your sides, sliding under your tank top, his fingers warm against your skin. He pulls the fabric up, and you lift your arms, allowing him to remove it completely. The cool air of the studio contrasts with the heat of his touch, making your nipples harden.

He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes roaming over your body "You're beautiful," he whispers.

You blush, feeling a little shy under his gaze. "You too," you reply, reaching up to touch his face, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw.

He smiles and pulls you closer, his lips finding yours once more. This kiss is deeper, more urgent, as if he's trying to pour all his feelings into it. You respond with equal fervor, your hands exploring the planes of his chest, and the muscles of his back.

Jihoon’s hands move to your waist again, his fingers brushing the waistband of your jeans. He pauses, looking at you for permission. You nod, your breath hitching in the process.

He unbuttons your jeans, sliding them down your hips and letting them pool at your feet. You step out of them, standing before him in just your underwear. He takes a moment to admire you again, his eyes dark with desire, a little hidden under his long bangs.

You reach for the hem of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head. He helps you, tossing it aside. Your hands explore his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his milky skin, the steady beat of his heart.

This time, his hands roam more freely, exploring every inch of your body. His touch is gentle, yet possessive, as if he's trying to memorize every curve, every contour. After all, he doesn't know when he'll be able to touch you like that again. That is, if there is a next time.

You respond in kind, your hands moving over his body, savoring the feel of his muscles flexing under your fingertips.

He guides you toward the couch, his lips never leaving yours. You lie down, pulling him with you, your bodies molding together perfectly. He kisses his way down your neck, your chest, his lips leaving a trail of saliva in their wake.

"Jihoon," you moan, your hands tangling in his hair as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently. The sensation numbs your mind, making you arch against him.

Jihoon makes you relax on his couch, but you suddenly become very aware when his fingers slide your panties to the side, moistening his fingers with your lubrication. He opens his eyes to watch you squirm as your pussy sucks his finger inside without effort. His cold finger fits perfectly inside you, and you can feel him teasing to put another one. You clap a hand over your mouth to stifle your moans.

He laughs softly, taking your hand off your mouth. "The studio is soundproof. You can moan as loud as you want."

You mentally thank him because with his fingers now perfectly entering and leaving you, a loud moan escapes your mouth, and the sound of your wet pussy isn't discreet. You're loving the intense gaze he has on you, like you're about to be devoured. He tries to kiss you, but you can only moan as he fingers you.

Jihoon curls his fingers on your g'spot, repeating the motion again and again. You let out a strangled moan, squirming under his touch. "Don't do that, or I'll mess up your sofa," you warn, your voice shaky with pleasure.

He looks at you from under his bangs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I don't care about the sofa," he murmurs, pressing a hand on your lower belly to intensify the curl of his fingers.

The added pressure makes you scream, "Please, please!"

Jihoon smirks, his fingers moving faster inside you. "Please what? Tell me what you need," he demands, his voice commanding.

"Please, Jihoon, I need more," you gasp, your body arching against his hand.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "More of what? My fingers? My mouth?" he asks, his tone teasing.

"Both," you whimper, feeling desperate for more of his touch.

Jihoon chuckles, his lips brushing against your ear. "Greedy, aren't you? But I'll give you what you want," he promises, his fingers curling and pressing against your g'spot with relentless precision.

You cry out, your body trembling. "Jihoon, I'm going to—"

"Do it," he whispers, his calm raspy voice making you bite your bottom lip. "Come for me."

Your hands clutch at the couch as Jihoon's head moves from above you to between your legs. The moment his tongue touches your clit, you can't hold back, and you come almost immediately. 

He stops for a moment, just to admire the sight of you arching your back on his couch, his fingers deep inside you, all wet as you roll your hips on them, moaning in his studio, naked. He never thought it would happen, but he isn't complaining.

You discover he's stronger than you thought when he holds your hips down to keep you in place before he devours your pussy. You roll your eyes at the sensitivity and the sight of his fangs tickling your skin, making you giggle between moans. 

The scene is completely sinful. You prop yourself up on one elbow and hold his hair up to see his face, flushed but with closed eyes, all concentrated on giving you pleasure. You find it incredibly cute, and you can't help but praise him.

"Jihoon, you're doing so good," you murmur, your voice trembling. "You're so focused, it's amazing."

In response, he sucks your clit inside his mouth, making you pull his hair a little. He hisses softly, and you quickly apologize. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

He looks up at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "It's okay," he says, his voice slightly rough. "I like it."

You can't help but moan louder as he resumes his attention to your clit. His fingers continue their relentless rhythm inside you, and you feel the pressure building again.

"Jihoon, please," you gasp, your hips bucking against his hold.

You gasp, and Jihoon stops, making your head fall back as you whine, your orgasm interrupted. He kneels on the couch, lowering his sweatpants and underwear to his thighs. You shake your head, saying, "I want you to take it all off."

He smiles, obliged, then comes completely naked over you. You spread your legs for him, wide, and he slides his cock between your folds, eliciting a whine from you. Still supporting yourself on your elbow, you grab his hair, pulling it slightly, earning a moan from him.

As your tongues wrap around each other, his cock slides inside you, and you open your mouth in a silent moan, your back plopping on the couch. He moans at the sensation of your gummy walls wrapping his cock, sucking him in welcomely. He also smiles, finding your reaction endearing.

Jihoon rolls his hips slowly, letting you adjust to the fullness of his cock. The slow stimulation draws moans from your lips, and you gasp, "Not only do you make amazing music, but you fuck so damn good too."

Jihoon lets out a genuine laugh, his breath warm against your skin. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, so shy, and you pull him back, wanting to see his eyes. He glances at you, amusement shining in his gaze.

"You really know how to flatter a guy," he chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

You laugh with him, the sound mingling with the intimate atmosphere around you. "It's true," you say, your voice lighter. 

Jihoon shakes his head, still smiling, but the moment of levity shifts as he feels your walls tighten around him. His smile fades into a look of intense pleasure, his face contorts, and he starts to moan, the sound vibrating through you.

"Oh, God," he groans, his hips picking up a rhythm that makes your breath hitch. "You feel so good."

The sounds of skin slapping, your moans, and the low hum from the computer rendering the music become the backdrop to your intense session with Jihoon. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and your hair spreads wildly across the couch. He can feel your wetness around his cock, spreading to his thighs and the couch. You brace yourself with one hand on the couch's arm, your lips plump and sensitive from the kisses and bites.

Jihoon closes his eyes, focusing solely on the sensation of your pussy. If he keeps looking at how much pleasure you're experiencing, he might come too soon. But you can already sense his cock throbbing inside you.

"Open your eyes," you urge him, catching on.

He opens them, sulking a bit, and you give him a devilish smile. You lick your fingers, sliding them down your body to circle your clit, doubling your pleasure and his. His mouth falls open at the sight.

"Fuck, nooo..." he mumbles, watching your every move.

You revel in the sight of his abs flexing, showing that his orgasm is near. Sensing his impending climax, Jihoon pulls out, giving himself a moment to regain control. When he's ready, he slides back in, making you arch your back and curl your toes, triggering your orgasm instead.

You smile at his audacity, and he grins, seeing that his tactic worked. "F-fuck you… I'm cumming, Jihoon," you warn, closing your eyes as the pleasure builds.

He speeds up his hips, making you stop breathing for a second before a deep moan escapes from your chest. You feel yourself clenching and unclenching around him, your body shuddering as you reach your peak. Panting hard, Jihoon pulls out just in time, spilling his cum on your belly as he strokes his cock. His body trembles, and his eyes lock with yours, his bangs falling over his forehead.

Jihoon takes a long look at your spent body, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "How about a nap before dinner?" he suggests softly.

You close your eyes and nod, feeling the exhaustion settling in. "Right..." he murmurs, getting up from the couch.

You miss the warmth of his body immediately and let out a small whine. He chuckles, "I'm coming back," he assures you as he grabs a box of Kleenex and brings some tissues to clean you up. Gently, he wipes your belly and between your legs, his touch tender.

"I'm glad we finished some songs," he teases, his eyes twinkling. "You don't look like you could continue... at least not today."

You scoff, too tired to come up with a witty response. Jihoon starts dressing you, carefully slipping your top back on, your panties, and leaving your jeans off so you can nap comfortably. Once you're settled, he dresses himself quickly.

From the corner of the studio, he fetches a thin blanket draped over a poltrone. He covers you with it and then lays down beside you, pulling you close.

"You really wore me out," you murmur, a hint of amusement in your voice.

He grins, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Likewise," he says. "But it was worth it."

You let out a contented sigh, feeling more relaxed than you had in a long time. "I can't wait to hear how the songs turn out," you confessed, your voice growing dreamier with each passing moment.

Jihoon hummed in agreement, his fingers resuming their soothing motions on your back. "Me too," he murmured. "But for now, let's just enjoy this."

And so you did. Wrapped in each other's arms, you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, you snuggle into him, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you towards sleep. 

[fandom]

Video Games

We combined the console and mobile games lists and two dating sims still came out on top. Go figure.

Genshin Impact

Baldur's Gate 3

The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom

Five Nights at Freddy’s

Splatoon 3

Twisted Wonderland

Undertale

Ace Attorney

Pokémon Violet and Scarlet

Obey Me! Shall We Date?

Disco Elysium

The Sims 4

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2

Deltarune

Team Fortress 2

Hogwarts Legacy

Final Fantasy XIV

Honkai: Star Rail

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Minecraft

Persona 5

Pizza Tower

Rain World

Hollow Knight

Hades

Danganronpa

Arknights

Animal Crossing: New Horizons

Project Sekai

Elden Ring

Touhou

Stardew Valley

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

ULTRAKILL

Pikmin 4

Guilty Gear

Overwatch

Portal

Omori

Flight Rising

Resident Evil 4

God of War

Red Dead Redemption 2

Sonic Frontiers

The Stanley Parable

Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Cyberpunk 2077

Limbus Company

Mortal Kombat

Bendy and the Dark Revival

Destiny 2

Bloodborne

Among Us

Yakuza

Silent Hill

Ensemble Stars

Cookie Run

League of Legends

Bendy And The Ink Machine

Fear & Hunger

Dragon Age: Inquisition

Cult Of The Lamb

Fallout: New Vegas

Half-Life

Resident Evil Village

Pathologic

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess

The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina Of Time

The Murder Of Sonic The Hedgehog

Professor Layton

Dragon Age 2

The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword

Fire Emblem Engage

Devil May Cry

Pokémon Legends: Arceus

The Sims 2

Fallout 4

Cuphead

Persona 3

Metroid

Final Fantasy VII

Dragon Age: Origins

Metal Gear Solid

The Witcher

Psychonauts

Pokémon Mystery Dungeon

Street Fighter

Guild Wars 2

The Sims 3

Dead By Daylight

Horizon Forbidden West

World of Warcraft

Starfield

Umineko

Detroit: Become Human

Yume Nikki

Monster Hunter

Pokémon Black and White

Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective

Night in the Woods

This is a newly-combined list! Yay!

[toxicanonymity]

beach walks

7k, Joel x f!reader; surf instructor Billy x f!reader (Billy gifs)

night walks au A/N: Picks up right after beach walks prequel.

SUMMARY: Paths cross, and Joel can't let you go. WARNINGS: I8+ angst, infidelity adjacent if you squint, drugs, dubcon (drugs/location) p in v, somewhat possessive!joel, exhibitionism, homoerotic tension if you squint. cuck!billy but you also sit on his face.

Joel can't sleep. He stares at the ceiling and keeps drifting back to what he shouldn't have seen - you in the pool with Billy. Plus, he evisions you fucking on the beach, in the hotel, in that stupid shack. He's not happy about it, but you’re so damn hot. He can't help the way his body reacts. He keeps hearing that moan, fuck.

He figures out what helps him get back to sleep, and by the end of the night, he's used all the lotion in that little bottle. 

He wakes up for the last time around five. He showers and packs his bag. It's still dark when he goes for a walk on the beach. As the sky hints at sunrise, he stands with his fingers interlaced on the crown of his head and listens to the birds. He’s been doing his best, and it turns out his best sucks. On a sandbar, he finds a live starfish missing an arm and gently tosses it like a Frisbee back into the ocean. 

What is he doing? He could've left it all alone. 

He walks back to the hotel and gets a cup of coffee and a newspaper. He goes out on the cafe porch to read. There's a yoga class in view on the beach, and he looks to see if you're in it. Yeah, there you are. His stomach drops and his nostrils flare with a deep breath. You look great, but he can't see your ass. Right behind you, there's Billy. 

Why Billy? He's impossible to hate. At least he's also impossible to tame. No way it goes beyond this vacation. But if anyone can make him wanna change, it might be you. Joel used to think Billy had it made, but he's a lonely guy underneath it all.

—---you------

Four of you are eating breakfast at a table for six in the dining hall. You're sitting across from Billy.

“Can’t miss with Billy’s Bistro. Never burn the toast, never give ya salmonella . . .” 

“Salmonella?” Your friend Kari asks. “Was there an outbreak here?” 

Billy has a spoon in his mouth, but his eyes widen. He looks back and forth between all three of you as he slowly swallows his chia pudding, then says, “Explains the Groupon, doesn't it?” 

“Gross,” Kari pushes her plate away. 

Billy shrugs, then looks at you. “Billy’s bistro,” he mouths with a subtle sparkle in his eyes. His face softens, then comes to life when he looks behind you. 

“There he is,” Billy announces. 

You look back and do a double take. Your heart skips a beat, and your eyes widen. Joel gives you a nod of acknowledgement. 

He’s wearing swim trunks, and his thighs look massive. All of him does. Did the memories fade, or did he manage to put on 10 lbs of muscle in what, two months? His hair is longer – only an inch or so, but enough to curl. You can’t stop staring. Your face is cold and tingly.

“Have a seat, mate.” Billy uses his foot to push out the chair to his right, at the head of the table. He puts his hand on Joel's hulking trapezius as he sits down. 

“Joel Miller. This man is a legend,” Billy tells you.

You glance at your friends, and they're as shocked as you. They met Joel once, at the restaurant. 

“Taught me how to roll my first joint,” Billy says. “Now I can't even get’m to take a bong rip.” He turns to Joel. “That was some good shit ya brought, mate.”

“Yeah,” Joel says barely above a whisper, glancing at you.

“Hey Joel,” your friend Nahlah says. 

“Hey, Nahlah.” 

You had barely let him sit down to say hello at that restaurant. 

“So you know each other,” Billy concludes. “Brilliant! What a world.”

“Yeah, we know each other,” Joel subtly nods, looking at you. He looks tired.

“Do they know the new you?” Billy asks. 

“The new you?” you ask Joel. 

“Health nut.” Billy grabs Joel's arm, beaming. “Look at’m.” He turns his attention to Joel. “On the straight and narrow. Can't believe it.”   

“Really?” you ask Joel. 

Joel sighs and side-eyes Billy. “No. Just had to, kinda. . . get my life together for a minute.”

It’s a punch to the gut. Getting his life together meant dropping you? That’s where he went? Your face burns, and your nostrils flare. 

“Excuse me,” you tell the rest of them, and stand up with heat in your chest, determined not to make a scene.  

“Catch up later,” Billy says and reaches for you as you come around Joel’s chair. You lean in and he gives you a kiss on the cheek. You don't look back on your way out the door. 

—

You get down to the beach, take off your sandals, and walk, heading nowhere in particular. 

Soon enough, Joel is calling your name, jogging. You keep walking, but he catches up. He walks beside you in silence, between you and the ocean. You try to ignore the stride of his hulking form in your periphery. 

“Guess I don’t fit in your new life,” you mutter, then swallow the knot in your throat and put your shades on, even though it’s not sunny. You keep walking. 

“Yeah ya do, baby,” he reaches for your hand. The tenderness almost gets to you, but it’s out of nowhere. You just can’t. You cross your arms and slow your pace. 

“Guess I never did,” you mumble. 

“I’m sorry.” Joel looks at you. You keep looking down, taking slow, careful steps. 

“For what?” you ask, looking at the sand for an answer.

“Bein’ a fuckin’ idiot. Wrapped up in my own shit.” 

“What shit?” you ask. 

“I’ll tell ya everything, but–” 

“--But what?” 

“We’re supposed to head out in like (he looks at his watch) fuck. Like ten minutes.” 

You scoff. “Did something happen?”

“No—well, yeah.” He looks around then asks, “You okay?”

You don’t answer. 

“You looked happy,” he says, gesturing over his shoulder toward the dining hall. It sounds more like a question than an observation. Yeah, you were finally having a good time without him until he showed up. Now you’re confused, and mad at him for confusing you. 

You stop in your tracks and turn to face him and the water. “What happened? You couldn’t even text me?” 

The sky gets darker as thicker cloud cover creeps over the sun. “I should’ve,” Joel nods. 

You barely have the energy to walk. You sit down on the sand. He better tell you, right now, if there's any hope.

He swallows and looks down and away, then takes off his sunglasses and joins you on the sand.  “Got in my head,” he mumbles. “So many times, I was gonna. . .even walked to your door one night.” 

“.. .okay?” You wait for him to continue. 

“Thought ya might think I was lame, cause I wasn’t the same, I was. . .” 

“You were trying to get your life together,” you recite, genuinely trying to digest it for the first time. A tear falls out of your eye and you angrily wipe it away.

He shakes his head. “Never shoulda said it that way. I had somethin’ to take care of. Tell ya ‘bout it when we've got time” 

The lump is back in your throat, full force. He’s really gonna swoop in just long enough to make you sad, then leave you as confused as ever.

He looks dejected. “I know, I’m an idiot.” 

“So what do you want?” you ask. 

He looks at the sea for a moment. “To start over.” 

“Why?” you ask and wipe away more tears. Your voice becomes strained. “What do you regret?” 

“Nothin’, pumpkin. . . shit, I’m so bad at this.” He groans in frustration at himself. “And I know it, that’s why I. . .” he trails off and shakes his head. 

You glance at his eyes and curse yourself for a twinge of empathy.

He claws a handful of the dry sand between you into a little pile and mumbles, “You deserve better, always did.” He smoothes out the pile, then pivots to face more in your direction. “Look at me, pumpkin’. Please.” He reaches for your sunglasses. You pull back your head away and take them off yourself.  You turn and face him. He wipes his hand off on his shirt before brushing tears off your cheek with his thumb. “Only thing I regret is bein’ such a dick.” 

You begin to stand up, not wanting to feel him suddenly leave you again.  Once you’re standing, you cross your arms again. You dig the toes of one foot into the sand.  Joel’s hands gently engulf each of your elbows, and he gets as close as he can. You don’t pull away, but you don’t open up either. He hugs you anyway. 

God, his arms are huge. He holds you tight and breathes into your hair. He mutters, “Think about you all the time.” You let out a held breath, then his scent fills your lungs. A wave of affection threatens to break down your walls.

Your arms uncross on their own, and he hugs you with his body fully against yours. It feels like a warm mistake. It’s too late now. 

“Ya know, I would’ve done it with you,” you sniffle. “Whatever this lifestyle thing. . .” 

He whispers your name and hugs you tighter. He holds you for a minute, and you dab your eyes on his hulking shoulder. The weight of his arms is as soothing as his scent. This isn’t fixed, you tell yourself. You’re not going to pick up where you left off. If he invited you back to his room right now, you wouldn’t go. But somehow, you feel for him. You’ve never seen him anxious or vulnerable. He’s always been so sure of himself. So full of himself, but in a charming way.

You begin to pull away, still determined not to be the one who gets left. “Guess you’ve gotta go,” you mutter. 

He looks sad as he slowly drops his arms, running his hands down your back. “Talk when you’re home?”

You sigh and look at your feet. Your self-preservation instincts tell you to cut him off. Quit him while you can. While you have the upper hand. While he can’t hurt you worse than he has. “What can’t you say right now?”

“A lot,” he answers without missing a beat. He seems to glance at your neck, but you can’t be sure. 

You shake your head no. 

“Please. Then I’ll leave ya ‘lone if ya want.” His eyes shift away. Does he mean that? Your eyes cloud up again, and you put your glasses back on. 

“I dunno.” You walk back to the main building in silence and slip on your sandals on the way in.  Joel hugs you goodbye. It feels like he doesn’t want to let go, and you don’t want him to either. Your arms faintly itch as he walks away, and you brush off the sand.

—

After Joel leaves, your friends finish eating and emerge from the dining hall. 

“Where’s Billy?” you ask. 

“He has a lesson,” Nahlah says. 

-

You go back to your room and take a shower, trying to wash it all away, but Joel’s presence lingers, even as you turn off the water. You lie on your bed looking at the ceiling. Nahlah and Kari are on the other bed, watching ghost hunters on the free cable. 

“How was last night?” Kari asks. 

You sigh and mutter, “I need a nap.” 

“I bet you do,” Nahlah teases. 

You drift off, hoping everything will sort itself out while you dream. 

–

You sleep for hours and wake up alone, without the clarity you’d hoped for, except that you resent what Joel’s doing.  You’re already falling under his spell again, and you don’t like it.  It would be too easy for him to break your heart again. You know what could take your mind off it. 

-

You walk down to the shore, and Billy is finishing up a lesson. He sees you and nods toward the shack. You let yourself in and wait on the sofa, emo and increasingly horny. 

He comes through the door and takes off his long sleeves. He tousles his hair and stretches his neck with his hand on the tattoo. He takes a sip from a squeeze bottle, then asks, “You alright? What happened earlier?” 

“Nothing,” you rest your head in your left hand, with your elbow on the arm of the loveseat. 

“He’s a good guy,” Billy says, then looks at his watch and shifts gears. “Got fifteen minutes.” 

He joins you on the loveseat, then leans over you, pressing a kiss into your lips and pulling you closer. The kiss is loaded. You welcome his tongue, soothed by his touch, but your energy is gone. You’re practically catatonic compared to before. He kisses you for a few more seconds, then breaks away and asks, “You alright?” 

You nod and kiss him back, then reach for his shorts, cupping his semi-hard package. 

He breaks away and reads your eyes. “‘S’alright, love.” 

He pulls away entirely and slumps into the loveseat, using the opposite arm as a pillow. “C’mere,” he mumbles, and opens his arms. You lay face down on his warm, bare chest, beads of sea water transferring to your beach dress—through one of its crochet holes, a pierced nipple teases your skin.  

Billy holds you. You lie there, relaxed, one leg over his. A tear rolls out of your eye and onto his hot skin. “Shh,” He rubs your back for a few minutes, his chest rising and falling under you. His cock twitches against your thigh between his legs, and a shock of desire zaps through you. His hips lift slightly, just once, and your eyes flutter open. He sucks back his chin to look down at you, then his fingers lift your chin to look at him. You’re no longer crying at all. 

“There she is,” he murmurs, with his pupils widening before your eyes. He reads your eyes and glances at your lips. “Fucking gorgeous.” His face drifts toward yours, your neck extends, and his lips nudge your upper lip before your mouths come together. You prop yourself up with your forearm so neither of you has to strain your neck. The kiss starts languidly, then heats up and his hands come to your hips. As you kiss, his hips lift into you, and his cock hardens against your quad. As he licks into your mouth, you slowly grind on his thigh. He breaks away, searches your eyes, and whispers, “attagirl,” before claiming your lips again. With your limbs slotted together, you make out, grind, and quietly grunt.

For a while, your thoughts are gone, then Joel walks back into your head. You wonder how good he’d fuck you now, if he thinks it’s his last chance. Still moving on Billy’s thigh with your mouth half-connected with his, your breaths get heavy with desire. Would Joel be rough? Would he be tender? Would he be how he is so often–ravenous, but deliberate and appreciative of every inch of your body? You imagine his cock shoving into you and the way he’d sigh, yeah. 

Now you’re gushing wet, already about to cum. You break the kiss to moan, and Billy breathes, “Yeah, good girl.” He grinds against you and his hands move you on his bare thigh, now coated with your slick. “Fuck, that wet for me.” Not just for him, but, yeah, that wet. His cock has hardened against your hip. “Mmm,” he moans into your mouth as his lips take yours again. Joel’s a good kisser too. A little more forceful, but still smooth. You’re thinking about Joel being under you. Imagining the first time you were in Joel’s basement, when he pulled you into his lap so decisively. You’re on the edge of bliss, sliding on Billy’s thigh. You bite your lip, then moan. “Yeah,” Billy encourages you. 

When it’s clear you’re not quite there, Billy breathes, “Sit on me. C’mere.”

His mouth hangs slightly open, and his eyes are black with lust. You carefully lift your knee off the cushion between his legs, and the light touch of his hand helps you on top of him as he watches, spellbound. You lower yourself at just the right angle and moan at the first direct contact with the stiff shape in his shorts. Your eyelids are heavy. 

He lifts up the hem of your beach dress, and you take it off. He moans at the sight of your body. 

His lips remain slightly parted as his hips lift, grinding against you. He palms a breast, and you massage your other one. He begins to reach between you, fingertips sliding into his waistband, then looks behind you at the clock. “Sit on my face.” 

He scoots down to put his head flat on the cushion, and you rise off his shorts. He takes his cock out with a sigh and spits on his fingers as you knee walk forward. He spreads the spit on his cock and breathes vocally, eyes on your tits. You could swear you smell his precum. 

He unties your swimsuit bottom and lets half of it fall, leaving your slippery cunt bare. His palms on your ass bring you down, and his scruff drags against your inner thigh. His warm, humid breath envelopes your most sensitive place, then his lips make contact.

One hand leaves you to attend to his raging erection, and he grunts a short “mm” into your cunt at the relief. He laps at your entrance, licking upward, then latches onto the space just above that. He licks your clit, then sucks. He moans into the bundle of nerves, and your thighs tremble. He breaks away for short moments, breathing hot against your folds as he strokes his cock behind you. He eats you voraciously, and you whimper. He’s at just the right spot, doing just the right thing, and he keeps at it.

You brace your hands on the arm of the sofa and think about Joel looking up at you from between your legs. You take a deep breath and see stars. Your body twitches and you moan, riding your waves, with Billy moaning into your cunt. He gently laps at your entrance and strokes himself faster. As your climax wanes, you rise off his mouth, with Billy still stroking himself, not finished. He gathers slick from your folds, brings it to his cock, then pants pants, “How ‘bout another?” He begins to pull you back down.

“No,” you whisper, “that was perfect.” You allow him to keep you there, hovering over him. 

“Wanna ride?” His voice is shaky as he keeps pumping his cock behind you. 

“Not now,” you answer. 

He turns his head slightly, seals his lips on your thigh, and sucks. You reach down between your legs and grab hold of his damp, salty hair to pry him off. 

“Mmm,” he responds,“Yeah.” His strokes are heavier and so are his breaths. You experimentally tug at his hair again. He shudders, then paints his stomach in cum, with a warm squirt reaching your ass. 

He scoots out from under you and asks for the third time, “you alright?” 

You tie your swimsuit again and settle into the loveseat, face and chest still heated from your peak. “Yeah,” you nod. 

He fixes his swim trunks then prowls toward you to give you a gentle kiss and you taste yourself on his lips. “You’re tasty, love,” he murmurs, then pulls away. 

He puts on his rash guard, then points at you, “Aqua tonight.”  Right, his DJ thing. He gets off the loveseat and looks at the clock. “Before I forget,” He grabs his bag and unzips a front pocket that looks to be full of condoms and pill baggies. He turns his head to ask, “How many of ya?” 

“Three, I guess.” 

He rummages around, then holds up a little baggie with three pills. “Just a little X.” 

“Oh, I dunno if we’ll–” 

He shrugs. “Might try it.” He looks at the clock and mutters, “shit.”  

He presses the baggie into your palm and closes your hand. He holds up a few condoms and asks, “just in case?”. 

---Joel----

On the road, Tommy and Maria talk and listen to music. In the back seat, Joel looks out the window, or he wants to look out the window, but he looks at his reflection. He can’t shake the feeling of your warm tears wetting his shirt, or the image of you kissing Billy, or the glance at what he’s pretty sure was a hickey on your neck. He’d be surprised if it wasn’t after what he saw the night before. 

The further they get from the resort, the more Joel’s chest tightens. He takes out his phone to text you. He types, “I can’t leave you with him,” stares at it for a few seconds, then erases it. 

Who even is he anymore?  

Something clicks. 

At a stoplight, he says, “Stop at that gas station.” Tommy parks at a pump. They need gas anyway., “Open the hatch,”  Joel says. Tommy pops the trunk and gets out of the car to pump gas. Joel grabs his bag from the back and Tommy does a double take. 

“You goin’ back?” Tommy asks, not shocked. 

“Yeah.” Joel pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ll find my way home.” 

“We can take ya back,” Tommy offers, nodding in the direction of the resort. 

“Nah,” Joel scratches the back of his neck. “Need the fresh air.”

He and Tommy share a brief, manly hug and pat on the back, then Joel walks off with his bag on one shoulder.

-

Joel’s coming for you. He might not have the right words, but he doesn’t need them. Never did. None of this was built on words. It was something unspoken under something physical and fierce. He pockets his phone and puts on his shades, walking with new resolve. There are things he wants to tell you, and some of them need words, but not all of them. The words can wait. They’ll come easier when you’re back where you belong. 

Two hours later, he’s back at the hotel. He smells his own sweat soaking through his shirt, and his phone’s about to overheat.

“Long time no see,” the receptionist says. 

“Yeah,” Joel mumbles without humor, then forces a smile. He gets a room, puts his things away, then heads out to find you. 

You’re not at the pool. You’re not in any of the common areas. 

He goes down to the beach, toward the surf lessons. 

-

Billy’s showing off for a customer. Joel sits in the sand and waits. He admires the way Billy moves in the water, resenting him at the same time. 

When Billy’s done, he walks up to Joel. Joel’s eyes fall on Billy’s swim trunks, then his mind goes to your hands, your mouth, your perfect cunt.  

Billy extends his hand, and pulls Joel up. He pats Joel’s arm, then lets him go. “Got some time if ya wanna catch a wave.” 

“Where is she?” Joel asks. 

“I dunno, mate. Prob’ly with her friends?” He motions for Joel to follow him to the shack. Years ago, Billy more or less offered Joel a handjob in that shack. Joel declined, and that was that. 

As they enter the shack, Billy unzips his quarter-zip long-sleeve top and pulls it off. He takes a sip of water, then wipes off his mouth. “So,” Billy starts. “What’s the story?” He turns up the water bottle again and it makes a high pitched sound as he sucks it. “Ex-lovers?” he asks with a smile. 

Joel’s jaw clenches. He takes a breath through his nose and calms himself. “Not ex.” 

Billy chokes on his water, then wipes his mouth again. “Does she know that?” 

Joel rakes his hand through his hair, at a loss. “That’s my girl,” he nods, heart pounding. 

“I don’t think she is, mate. Women aren’t property-” 

“-cut the crap, Billy.” Joel’s chest is heaving. 

Billy’s eyes fall to Joel’s right hand, which is flexing into a fist. 

“Hit me if it makes ya feel better,” Billy puts down the water bottle and braces himself in a welcoming stance. 

This fucker. No, Joel isn’t going to hit him. 

Joel forces himself to relax, puts his hands on his hips and shifts his weight, shaking his head at the floor. 

Billy lunges toward him, light on his feet as if he’s gonna sucker punch Joel. It’s playful, but Joel drops his shoulder and tackles him to the floor before he can get in a jab. 

On the floor, Billy fights back, eyes wild, but Joel’s too strong. He pins him with his left forearm on his chest, straddling him. 

Billy grabs Joel’s left tricep. “Look at that,” he marvels. “Unbelievable.” 

Joel looks into the blue eyes staring up at him and wonders if you’ve had this POV. For a brief moment, he’s tempted to slide his forearm up to his neck. Billy looks at Joel’s right hand which opens and shuts in the air, stretching.  

“I can take it,” Billy urges. “C’mon, knock me around.” 

Billy’s enthusiasm takes the wind out of Joel’s sails and brings him back to reality. He releases his forearm and sits back on his knees, still bracketing Billy’s hips. Joel slowly stands with a groan, then helps Billy to his feet. 

—- Later at Aqua —--

Billy has given you the closest VIP table. You and your friends are sitting there with a drink. He points at you from his DJ booth, which is on a raised platform. All three of you hold up your drinks and smile at him. 

Kari and Nahlah have had their eyes on a couple of guys who are finally approaching. It's a group of three. You decline to dance, so the third guy sits down to have a drink with you instead, shouting over the music, “HOW LONG ARE YOU IN TOWN?” You look past the man, and Billy is laughing, looking down at his mixer board. After indulging the man for another minute or so, you excuse yourself to the restroom, hoping the man will take the hint and disappear in your absence.

On the way to the restroom, you pass a couple of dark rooms with hall windows and suspect people might be fucking in there. The half-pill you’ve taken isn’t doing anything, but you know better than to double it just yet. 

When you come out from the restroom, the guy is still at your table. You curse him under your breath and head outside for some fresh air.

-

You duck out a door that’s propped open. Smokers are milling about. A few partiers are comforting a crying friend. You walk just far enough to get some space from that scene and the artificial light. You lean against the brick wall to breathe. The tiniest droplets of sea water tingle merrily on your face. You open your mouth and can taste it in the air. You fill your lungs and savor the breath. A buzz hums from your skin.

Your dress has a slit on one side and is long enough that you can lift your knee and rest one foot on the wall behind you without exposing yourself—but that wouldn’t be the end of the world anyway. You watch palm leaves rustle in the ocean breeze and look at the sky. There are more stars here than at home. Maybe you should take a walk. 

You’re still gazing into the sky when you notice someone in a colorful shirt approaching. They flick their cigarette away and it sparks. You smile, and as they come into focus, they turn into Joel. 

Are you rolling that hard after half a pill? You’ve still got your wits about you, don’t you? You watched Joel leave this morning, and you’ve never seen him dressed like this. The colors vibe perfectly on his silk shirt, and a gold chain sparkles underneath. His curls are fluffier than earlier. 

He slowly approaches and wets his lips when he’s a few feet away. His eyes rove your body. When he’s close enough, he rests his hand on the brick wall to lean over you. He smells like cloves. He looks tired. He leans a little closer, and you look him in the eyes. 

“Thought you left,” you mutter.

He shakes his head, and continues to gaze into your eyes. “Couldn’t do it.” 

You run a hand up his chest, palm gliding across his shirt. His chest is strong, and the fabric is like cool shaving cream under your fingers. In the back of your mind, you still have so many questions, but you don’t ask them. Not now. 

“You can be mad at me,” his brows knit and he nods twice. ”I deserve that.”  His eyes lock on yours.  “But I'm not gonna let ya go.” 

Your nipples harden with a chill, and your lips part.  

His gaze falls from your eyes to your lips, and you tilt your chin up. His eyes fall further, to your neck, and he inhales sharply through his nose. You turn your head the other way. Still braced on the wall, he nudges your chin so he can look at the bruising. You feel his heart rate quicken under your hand, and you slide your hand up to the cold sweat beading on his neck. 

His thumb brushes over the bruising. He brings his mouth and nose to the other side and grazes your sensitive skin with his nose. His tongue teases you and you shiver, then he plants his lips. He grunts softly as he marks you. His breath hits your wet skin as he lingers there to murmur, “Missed how ya taste.” 

He returns to the bruised side of your neck and licks the mark, tenderly, then harder. It’s sore, but you don’t react. For a moment, his lips lay plush and soft against your damaged skin. Then he opens his mouth wide. He scrapes his teeth, then plants his lips and sucks, and you try not to flinch but let out a little gasp. He tongues and sucks at it for almost five seconds before releasing you. 

He soothes the spot with the light touch of his lips, then kisses up your jaw, to your ear, where he murmurs, “What are you on, and how much?”

You tell him. 

“Should be fine,” he mutters to himself as he pulls his head back. 

“Why?”

He looks back and forth between your eyes. “Wanna make sure you remember.” 

You wet your lips and swallow. 

He’s close enough that his body heat enhances yours. His whole presence is a warm embrace. You half-heartedly try to conjure what you went through earlier—the hurt, the resolve not to let it happen again. You can’t find it under your affection, wonder, and empathy. Something tells you it’s going to be okay. 

He looks at your neck again. 

You open your mouth to apologize, but he cuts you off, “Shh.” He takes your hand and leads you back inside. 

-

It’s dark, minus the red and pink lights washing over the dance floor, which is crowded but not quite packed. He gets two soda waters from the bar, and you sit down in the VIP booth. He has his arm around you, caressing your shoulder. Soon, you have your legs in his lap, just happy to have him close. You reach into your dress for the small plastic baggie. Joel is watching the dance floor and idly stroking your leg as you pour the other piece of the pill into your hand. Some of it is powder by now. Joel’s eyes return just in time to see you put it on your tongue. 

He squeezes your chin to open your mouth, then, with the same hand, sticks two massive fingers between your lips to retrieve the pill. “You don’t need this,” he mutters, then sticks what remains of the pill in his mouth and takes a sip of water.  “What else ya got in there?” Joel feels you up through the fabric on and around your tits, and his eyebrows shoot up when his hand catches on something.

He shoves his hand down your dress and finds it tucked under your arm: a small, foil square. He turns it over and the clear backing reveals a glow-in-the-dark condom. He tosses it onto the table, then pulls you tighter against him. Your hip brushes a warm bulge in his soft black pants, and it twitches. These pants would be so easy to slip your hand into, you just know it. But before you can try, he brings his mouth to your ear. “C’mon, let’s dance.” 

-

On the dance floor, Joel stands behind you, and his heavy arms snake around your torso. He moves with you, with the music, and runs his palms over your dress. His dick hardens, and those silky pants leave nothing to the imagination as the vivid outline grinds against you. You lose yourself in his touch, in the soft rub of his cock, until you sense someone watching and glance toward the DJ booth. Billy smiles to himself and goes back to his mixing board. Joel shamelessly grabs your tit again. You’re already so wet for him.  In the corner of your eye, you see Billy still watching but pretend you don’t notice. 

“You’re so damn hot,” Joel growls right against your ear as he massages your breast and grinds against you with his arm crossing your body and one hand on your hip.  “Uggh,” he groans in arousal. He jostles behind you, adjusting his pants, then gathers the long skirt of your dress. He covers your ass with himself before the air has a chance to hit you. Then his hard, naked cock slides between your thighs. You gasp and look back. He kisses the side of your neck. You’re gushing all over him. Your thong is soaked through, and he’s sliding along your folds, hot and hard. He moans in your ear. His tip pushes the front of your dress out with every thrust through that warm, wet sleeve of your thighs against your cunt. 

Each pass of his tip makes you need him so bad. You turn your head back to say, “Let’s go somewhere.” 

“You want it?” he asks and slides out from your thighs, reaching down between you to put his dick away before letting your skirt down. 

You nod and begin to lead him to the restroom, but he firmly holds your elbow. You turn around and put your arms around his neck to plead, “Let’s go,” nodding toward the bathrooms. He grabs your ass and grinds against your front, raging hard.  He holds you close and you give up for the moment. 

He dips his head and noses your chin up. His lips brush a sore area, and you twitch. You slot your fingers into his curly locks, making him growl silently into your skin. "Joel," you sigh. "Let's go."

Either he doesn't hear you or pretends not to.  "Mmm," his hum vibrates into your skin. He pries his lips off your neck only to plant them on your mouth. Your tongues meet, and you need him, you really need him. Now. 

After a few seconds of bliss, you break the kiss to plead, "Let’s go." He reads your face and shakes his head no as a dim red light falls over you in passing. Your mouth falls open in protest. He grinds against you, letting his answer sink in. And in case there's any doubt, he brings his lips to your ear. "Gonna take it right here." 

He gathers the front of your dress. You swallow, stunned and throbbing in anticipation. 

He takes his cock out under your dress, then lifts one of your thighs, and you hook it around him. He keeps your raised knee against him. Your shoes are just the right height. He pulls your thong to the side and there’s no mistaking how wet and ready you are. Right away, he notches at your entrance. You tilt your hips. His fingers dig into your thigh and the plush of your ass. He plunges in with a grunt, pushing a gasp out of you as he divides your walls in what feels like slow motion. Your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back as his cock makes its place inside you. He holds you against himself, and your leg stays hiked up as he retreats, then begins to slide into you to the beat of the music. He brings his lips to your ear. “Ohh–good girl.”

You’d envisioned this every day since the last time and somehow forgot it was this good. He holds you close, his body flexing, expertly moving inside yours. You’ve missed this, you’ve really missed it. He grunts and moans into your hair, unrestrained. The music is loud enough. 

“Fuck, you’re hot,” he practically shouts, holding you by the ass and thigh as he fucks up into you. It’s a thrill being full of his cock in a sea of people. The song changes and you glance toward the DJ booth. Billy is looking right at you. Joel’s pace slows to match the new tempo. You melt into his arms with the perfect shape of his length dragging between your walls. Billy’s eyes smile, and he slowly nods. You catch him adjusting himself just below the DJ table which makes your walls twitch. You bite your lip. 

The grip of Joel’s fingers tightens, pressing firmly into your flesh. Billy’s hand is still below the mixing table when Joel turns your face back toward him and kisses you. Everything else fades away except his mouth on yours and his cock thrusting into you. The smooth slide of his tongue makes you twitch. His thrusts become sharper, deeper with the aid of his bruising grip, and your mouths break apart with labored breaths and moans. God, you’re wet, and only getting wetter. 

Joel searches your eyes as he thrusts into you. The lights wash over you again, and his pupils are wide. You gaze at each other, and you hold the back of his head, fingers tangling in his long curls as he slowly fucks you on the dance floor. There’s a glance from one or two dancers, but no one cares. 

You steal another glance at Billy, and he looks to be in a trance with his mouth hanging slightly open. He wets his lip and he closes his mouth, then runs his hand through his hair. You bury your face in Joel’s neck, and his familiar scent enhances everything. Pleasure is building more with each thrust of his cock making you whole. Nothing compares to this.

Joel grunts and sighs, and twitches. “Ohh, fuck,” he sighs. Is he going to come like this? God, he’s sexy. He tilts his head down and noses your nose so your chin tilts up and he finds your lips again. He kisses you sloppily, loosely, breathing and grunting, and the way he fills you up— shit, he feels good. Are you going to come like this? 

“Don’t let me fall,” you plead. 

He stares at your lips and his mouth draws yours in. He bottoms out and stays deep, moving in short pulses, holding you so your front grinds against his. 

You break the kiss to sigh, “Fuck.” You whimper against his lips as it overtakes you in slow motion. You don’t hold back. The moan rips out of your chest as your body clenches around his. You pulse, and your body spasms. He holds you tighter. “Ohh,” you moan.

“Oh, baby,” He pants. Each thrust is sharp. “Oh, fuck,” he bottoms out and groans as he pulses powerfully.  “Ohhh.” He holds you still as you milk his cock. “Ohh, gg–unghhh.” When he’s nearly spent, an air horn sounds.  Joel groans, and you both look toward Billy. He nods and gives a low thumbs up as the last of Joel’s cum dribbles into you. Joel laughs into your hair, “I’m gonna kill’m.”  

Joel dips his knees to let his cock slide out. He lets your leg down, then your dress, and fixes his pants. He holds you for a whole song. His cum dribbles down your thigh, and you don't even wipe it with your dress. 

“Let's get outta here.” 

- 

You look for your friends, and they're still with the guys from earlier. Joel waits as you go over and say goodbye. When you return, he puts his arm around you as you walk outside.

Outside, he hugs you as you wait for an uber.  The night has dulled your anxiety, but it’s still there somewhere, and it reveals itself as you think about spending the night with him.

“I still don’t understand,” you whisper.

“I know, baby. Ya will. Promise.”

“Can you just answer one thing?”  He waits for your question.  “Who drives a black Mercedes?” 

You pull back to watch him react.

“Black Mercedes. . .” His brow furrows and he searches the pavement for an answer.

“The SUV you were in.” 

“Oh, pumpkin’,” his face softens.  “Just my lawyer, baby.” He kisses you on the forehead, which pauses your thoughts and weakens your eyes. 

Your phone buzzes with a call from Kari, but the call cuts off. Kari hasn’t texted, but in your messaging app, there’s a new group thread with three unread:

“come over to mine,” Billy had texted minutes ago. Then, “key’s under the cactus.”

Joel had already responded, “not tonight.” 

---

---

---

if you want the lore about the surf shack in didn't years ago here it is

I'm watching the comments and rbs for what people are excited about and what people want to see 👀

Thank you so much for reading. I really appreciate your patience and support. Your love of night walks Joel and investment in these two makes me really happy. Love you guys 🖤

@silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @rainstorms-library

[ladythornofrivia]

MY SCAVENGER || Kylo Ren!Aemond x Rey!Reader

a/n: i’ve been thinking about what one-shot I should do next. Though I’m currently writing Saltburn fanfic, I love Star Wars. Even Reylo! Have fun reading! (Some dialogue in the beginning doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to the movie.)

warnings: interrogation, torture kink, lust at first sight, breeding kink, p in v sex, fight scene, violence, aemond has issues, loss of virginity, aemond is a d*ck, kink size, obsessive aemond, dom/sub, aemond not only uses the power of force on reader but also with his d*ck. Bl*wjob, degradation kink, creampie

pair: aemond x reader

Somewhere in the galaxy far away, the leader of the First Order, Aemond Targaryen, was hunting for the map that’ll lead him to Daemon Targaryen, the last Jedi ever existed. Or so he believed.

While Aemond knew the legends of his uncle and his journey as a Jedi warrior, but those who commanded under Aemond’s order and leadership, not a soul in a galaxy believed Daemon ever existed, not in the history textbooks or screens. The stormtroopers only meant to serve their skilled leader.

As young as he was, Aemond Targaryen is known for his cold and calculating nature. He kept his helmet on, under any circumstances, and wields a red lightsaber. Tall and lethal, no one really knew what he looked like—it left to the imagination far and wide, leading his troops picturing of his appearance. Aemond wouldn’t dare make his troops or his other commanding officers enter his private quarters.

In the galaxy, everyone feared him.

Until you.

A nobody living in the stories of galaxy.

Hunting for scraps and leftovers for the sake of small profit to keep on living. Finding rare scraps in Jakku, was meddlesome. A nightmare. Filled in stacks of desert sand and humid waves lingered and pierced your skin.

Deserted land has been your home. And in your home, inside the AT-AT Walker, after you scratch another tally mark on the metallic wall, you cooked a loaf of bread and fried vegetables and scraps of thin meat. You wondered when your life will begin anew with reborn purpose. A nobody, in the galactic space, hoped your family would return.

You hoped that your life isn’t meaningless.

Jakku has been destroyed; in chaos, you’re forced to leave—of taking refuge, but more companions in your journey agreed that Jakku is nothing but a junkyard, and there you met a legendary shooter and a Wookie Warrior. But the plans failed.

For Aemond Targaryen spotted the map to Daemon Tarygaryen’s location. But the expectant acquirance wasn’t the astromech, droid BB8, rather, something far more interesting.

Aemond captured you—after minutes of chase and defense in the thickened forest. “Bring the girl,” he ordered, as your body fell to unconsciousness by the force, as he carried you and fled away with his ship, brought you to the First Order base, entrapped in metal straps as soon as you woke up.

Luminous lights and thick air provoked your tightened lungs to breath and your skin had broken a perspiration.

The doors opened, unveiling a tall, dark figure between the gaps of archway. Stomping on his shoes echoed until became nothing.

“Where are the others?” you asked, rasping, eyes hazed.

“You mean the murderers, traitors and thieves and cravens you call friends,” he said, taunting, his voice was nearly a merry. “You’ll be in such a relief that I have no clue to where they are.”

The reflection of his mask stared back at you. “You still want to murder me—challenge me,” he assumed.

“Well, that’s what happens if you’ve been chased and captured by the monstrous creature in a mask,” you snapped, low voice laced with venom.

His mask has taken off, long silk strands of silver-blond hair flowed over his chest, as the violet eye and the substitution of his sapphire gleamed at you. For a second, you never thought that your captor is skilled fighter, but it’s also young—young and handsome. His milky skin aglow, a good correlation to his deep stone wedged on the empty socket of his amputated eye, lined with scar that is faded. Outline of his jaw sharpened, shadowed as he strode closer to you.

Thundered, his mask dropped at a nearby stand, the grey sand flew and dissipated as his lithe frame inched closer.

“The droid,” he said, almost frantic. “Tell me about the droid. I know the droid has the map to Daemon Targaryen. Ever heard of him?”

Looking at his eye, you shook your head, “Never heard of him,” you answered, the illuminated lights flashed over your eyelids each time you blinked.

Aemond inched his face closer. “Your heart beat is pounding awfully loud.”

“Must be the heat,” you retorted.

He chuckled. “What a clever liar you are. But not clever enough. Now, tell me about the droid.”

“He’s a BB Unit with a Selenium Drive with a Thermal Hyperscan Vindicator.”

“It’s carrying a navigational chart, which the droid possesses the map.” His head tilted. “You, a scavenger, living on Jakku—a deserted planet with nothing to offer.” His face leaned closer. “You know I can take what I want.”

You swallowed, eyes flicking at his smooth pink-colored lips.

“My,” he said, licking his lower lip. “It appears you have some sort of interest in me, showed no signs of fear.”

You looked away, face reddened from the strict heat in the room and the huskiness in his voice. His hand outreached to your side temple, though no contact. You felt the Force strengthened and battled against the mobility of your system.

“You’re lonely. Alone and desperate. Waiting for someone to show up and rescue you. Waiting for someone to lead you out from the land, from the galaxy and into the great land with trees and life. I can sense the anger…not only that…something far more…delicate…in the matter based on your compromising position,” he cooed.

You resisted, of course, but your energy drained quicker.

His body leaned back, taking a good look of your exasperated form. “Tell you what, I’ll release you, but only if you can give something to me, in one condition.”

You (e/c) locked onto his. “And what would that be?”

Only the corners of Aemond’s lips curled.

“Please, no,” you begged, wrists tied up behind your back while Aemond was sitting on a spare chair, his thick and lithe legs spread wide while you’re in between them, knees already hurting.

“Shhh, trust me, my little scavenger,” he cooed again, his gloved hand flattened behind your head and dragged it downward. “So, are you going to be my good woman, or do I have show you the force again?”

Gulping, you succumbed at his voice. Maybe another way of his “force”.

“Good woman,” he praised, and unzipped his black trousers, his long and thick cock sprung out it nearly hit your cheek below the eye. “Sorry, darling, my cock couldn’t help but to view at the sight of you,” he said, smirking, tugging your locks, hauling you closer to his engorged tip, leaking. Your lips opened, taken his length in, choking. It felt as if your eating a whole uncut rod—or a thicker lightsaber. “All trapped underneath me, my power. The force within can’t abide much later.”

Gagging proceeded in your throat, but you took his length in precarious and fervent care.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his other hand flicked, the force brought your head down further to the end of his swollen cock, his large balls. “Argh! That’s…it.”

It was impressive for him to not only deal with a woman with capable resistance, but also has a coy nature she has been hiding—a tease.

The force no longer hostage you; your mouth watered as you took his cock well, swallowing the taste of his flesh, his warm flesh. Oh, how delightful. You never dealt a Jedi or a commander to have desirable or naughty urges. But you figured that even the force cannot contain beastly urges of a man. Aemond was one. But, has he ever been a woman before you? Jealousy pitted down on your heated belly, flickering.

It felt so wrong, but, your heart was aching for him, despite “meeting” under the matters of selfish urgency and a brink of death.

Aemond sighed, his silver-blond locks befallen on his broad and lean backside, his throat bobbed, heaving and sighing at your warm and slick mouth.

“Your thoughts are troubling you again,” he said. “No, I have never been with a woman.”

You doubted. Tortured at the thought of a previous woman, a torture where a previous woman might do better than you—an inexperienced scavenger.

“I never lie,” he said. His index finger flicked, and the hair ties on your head casted, your longish locks flowed, nesrly covering up your breast. “In fact, I never did.”

Semen spurted in your slippery mouth.

“Take it all in, darling,” he encouraged, hearing your throat quenched its thirst, smothered in his slick and spurt of his thick semen.

The room became hotter as Aemond strapped your wrists above your head onto the prison bed.

“Stay still, woman,” he grunted, his lips inched downward to yours, seeing if the pace of his breath matched with yours.

Your chest steadied from a grasping breath you tried to behold with gentleness. Aemond sensed it, too.

“You’re steady…Good.” And plunged his suppled lips to yours, caging your soft ragged breaths, playing your tongue with his, heavy sighs played out in the air, his palm snuck in your cloth, smooth fingertips tracing the lines of your stomach, the soft steep of ribcage.

“With you under my protection, nothing can go wrong, little scavenger,” he said, his tucked hand withdrew, and flicked a sharp movement, and your clothes shred and tossed across the room under his Force.

Gasping, Aemond silenced your lips again under a deep passion. A sheer underwear tucked your maidenhood. Frustrated, Aemond snatched and ripped in one swoop, his cock engorged twice, hardened, his throat dried and croaked at the sight of your flawless beauty, picturing the lines of stretch marks on your lower belly from the swollen pregnancy. Aemond thought beforehand that if the First Order has been under siege, in one way to promote a difficult position that couldn’t diffuse, he needed an heir, an heir of a stronger, faster and more calculating version of himself.

“Hold on, scavenger, I’m sure this will be painful for you, but you’ll grow to love the feeling of my cock, grinding inside your walls. How do you feel now, little woman? Are you willing to give an heir for me?”

You gasped. There was so much life ahead of you. Unsure of his words, you were sure he’s crazy to know that one, obtaining pregnancy is scandalous—especially if a father is a notorious leader. He could be killed, and could be tortured or his enemies will use you and the child to proceed their victory to reach Aemond.

Gulping and vibrating under him, you uttered. “Why me?”

Your heart is torn in half. What if Aemond is only using you as a spare time hobby? What if he’ll soon find a lover who’s more beautiful and mature and not childlike like you, and for you to be thrown in the dark and be forgotten? Numerous possibilities rushing in your mind—and halted—when Aemond said, “I won’t betray you. Betraying is the enemy’s job.”

“But you’re the enemy,” you remarked.

“In this room, you’ll only see the real me, as the real Aemond, a beast hidden in a skin of a man,” he murmured. “I must have you,” he grunted, pushing his cock into your constricted folds, pumping and sliding in a tremendous pace that the bed rocked.

Moans ascended in the roofs, Aemond’s quiet grunts entered through your ears. Your legs wrapped around his slender waist, bobbing as his powerful thrusts electrified your drenched walls.

Your eyes lulled, but Aemond grasped your face and aligned it to his, violet eye narrowed. “Look at me as I fuck you good—heavy and fast. Your belly will soon swell with a future Jedi, a more powerful warrior than any good-for-nothing troops in the galaxy.”

His legs ached as his one hand untied the knot on your wrist and hauled your body up for you to snuggle him, bed rocking continuously as your voice rasped, airily sighing with your eyes closed, almost seeing pink stars swirling in your closed lids, your mouth sucked Aemond’s neck, offered a low hiss through his teeth.

“That’s it, my good angel,” Aemond purred,the flat of his large hands enveloped and motioned against your naked back. The heat in the room faded, the coldness bumped into your bare flesh; the air condition is activated, encouraged your warm bodies to go at full speed.

“Aemond,” you moaned, head threw back.

Aemond’s pace became sloppy, staggered at you calling his name. “Say it again, my darling scavenger. Say my name.”

“Aemond…Aemond,” your hips gyrated, in pleasurable heat.

His lips curved. “I knew you would love it eventually.”

“Need you to come…inside me..in me…on me…in my mouth or face. Fuck me good,” you begged, corner of your lips salivating, tongue buds prickling, in hopes to taste his cock again.

But you missed the part where Aemond’s eye gleamed in darkened shade, in secret thrill.

Grabbing your hips, nails deepened and bruised your flesh and bones as his thrusts shoved harder, sending your voice wailing through the roof. You were sure that the Stormtroopers would stop and listen over your voice. Aemond couldn’t care less; he loved seeing you like this.

“Almost there, my scavenger,” he groaned, kissing your cheek, last few rounds set in; your arms slightly flailed yet gripped around his neck, face nuzzled onto his lean neck as he blasted hot white liquid inside you.

Kissing on several spots on your face, Aemond tugged your body down with him, with your side profile pressed against his chest, his hand rested on your back head while the other brushed your back.

“The child will soon grow into you,” he reminded.

“What about the droid?” you asked, puzzled.

Aemond scoffed. “Forget about that damn droid. It is you who I am enamored to, who I am now devoted to.”

“Is this the power of force?”

“No, this is my love yearning for someone—for you, my sweet,” he said. “The force is neither the army nor the galaxy. The force is within us, and only us can gather. The force can sometimes break us.”

“You didn’t break me,” you noted, admiring his sapphire eye.

Aemond smiled. “No, but you tamed the force within me.”

And you both shared a tender kiss under dimmed light.

Taglist: @daonenonlysandman @toodlesxcuddles @kittendoll05 @omgsuperstarg @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @danika1994 @angeljcca @marvelescvpe @kukulyarva @namelesslosers @heavenly1927 @snh96 @herathedreamer @fandom-maniac-anime @httpsmenace @velunis @nananeptune @domithebomi @moonseye @valeskafics @faesspace @rxixo31 @tm-starr @xinthia19 @popsycles @naiaaramena @aleemendoza2425-blog @letmehavemyfictionalmen @aracelipf @ammo23 @blackswxnn @buccini555 @watercolorskyy @taangie @wolfdressedinlace @qardasngan @justyelena @jolixtreesunn @runekisses @jmii722 @colored-tr-panels @evergreen9083 @foggypeacestarlight @dixie-elocin @galactict3a @momowhoo @saturnssrings @dani5216 @liannafae

[will80sbyers]

Do you still have the list of movies that inspired ST4? I had a picture of it but I lost it and I haven't been able to find it since. Please and thank you in advance.

Yep!

Long post warning lol

300

2001: A Space Odyssey

47 Meters Down: Uncaged

12 Monkeys

28 Days Later

13th Warrior

Ace Ventura: Pet Detective

Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls

Altered States

Amelie

American Sniper

Analyze This

Annihilation

Aristocats

Armageddon

Assassins Creed

Avengers: Age of Ultron

Arrival

Almost Famous

Batman Begins

Batman V. Superman

Basket Case

Battle at Big Rock

Beauty and the Beast

Beetlejuice

Behind Enemy Lines

Beverly Hills Cop

Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey

Billy Madison

Black Cauldron

Black Swan

Boondock Saints

Borat

Bram Stoker’s Dracula

Burn After Reading

Broken Arrow

Blade Runner

C.H.U.D

Con Air

Cast Away

Congo

Constantine

Children of Men

Cabin in the Woods

Crank

Casablanca

Carrie

Crimson Tide

Clueless

Dukes of Hazzard

Don’t Breathe

Death to Smoochy

Doom

Dark Knight

Dogma

Deep Blue Sea

Dreamcatcher

Drop Dead Fred

Die Hard

Die Hard 2

Die Hard 3

Don’s Plum

Dances with Wolves

Dumb and Dumber

Edward Scissorhands

Enter the Void

Ex Machina

Event Horizon

Emma (2020)

Forrest Gump

Fargo

Fisher King

Full Metal Jacket

Ferris Bueller

Fallen

Fugitive

Ghost

Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Ghostbusters

Good Fellas

Girl Interrupted

Godzilla: King of the Monsters

Get Out

Good Will Hunting

Hackers

High Fidelity

Hellraiser 1

Hellraiser 2

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Hidden

High School Musical

Hurt Locker

Heat

Hunger Games

Highlander

Hell or High Water

Home Alone

I am Legend

It’s a Wonderful Life

In Cold Blood

Inception

I am a Fugitive from Chain Gang

Inside Out

Island of Doctor Moreau

It Follows

Interview with a Vampire

Inner Space

Into the Spiderverse

Independence Day

Jupiter Ascending

John Carter of Mars

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom

James Bond (All Movies)

Julie

Karate Kid

Knives Out

Kingsmen

Little Miss Sunshine

Labyrinth

Long Kiss Goodnight

Lost Boys

Leon: The Professional

Let the Right One In

Little Women (1994)

Mad Max: Fury Road

Magnolia

Men in Black

Mimic

Matrix

Misery

My Cousin Vinny

Mystic River

Minority Report

Mr. and Mrs. Smith

Neverending Story

Never Been Kissed

No Country for Old Men

Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors

North by Northwest

Open Water

Orange County

Oceans 8

Oceans 11

Oceans 12

One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest

Ordinary People

Paddington 2

Platoon

Pulp Fiction

Papillon

Pan’s Labyrinth

Pineapple Express

Peter Pan

Princess Bride

Paradise Lost

Primal Fear

Prisoners

Peter Jackson’s King Kong

Reservoir Dogs

Ravenous

Rushmore

Road Warrior

Rogue One

Reality Bites

Raider of the Lost Ark

Red Dragon

Robocop

Shooter

Sky High

Swingers

Sword in the Stone

Step Up 2

Spy Kids

Saving Private Ryan

Shape of Water

Swept Away

Star Wars: Return of the Jedi

Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back

Superbad

Society

Swordfish

Stoker

Splice

Silence of the Lambs

Source Code

Sicario

Se7en

Starship Troopers

Scrooged

Splash

Silver Bullet

Speed

The Visit

The Italian Job

The Mask of Zorro

True Lies

The Blair Witch Project

The Lord of the Rings Trilogy

Tangled

The Craft

The Guest

The Devil’s Advocate

The Graduate

The Prestige

The Rock

Titanic

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

The Fly

Tombstone

The Mummy

The Guardian

The Goofy Movie

The Peanut Butter Solution

Toy Story 4

The Ring

The Crazies

The Mist

The Revenant

The Perfect Storm

The Shining

Terminator 2

The Truman Show

Temple of Doom

The Cell

To Kill a Mockingbird

Timeline

The Good Son

The Orphan

The Birdcage

The Green Mile

The Raid

The Cider House Rules

The Lighthouse

The Book of Henry

The A-Team

The Crow

The Terminal

Thor Ragnarok

Twister

The Descent

The Birds

Total Recall

The Natural

The Fifth Element

True Romance

Terminator: Dark Fate

The Hobbit Trilogy

Unforgiven

Unbreakable

Unleashed

Very Bad Things

Wayne’s World

What Women Want

War Dogs

Wedding Crashers

What’s Eating Gilbert Grape

Welcome to the Dollhouse

Welcome to Marwen

Wet Hot American Summer

What Lies Beneath

What Dreams May Come

War Games

Who Framed Roger Rabbit

Weird Science

Willow

Wizard of Oz

Wanted

Young Sherlock Holmes

You’ve Got Mail

Zodiac

Zoolander

[dominadespina]

LAZAREVIC SISTERS V

Olivera Lazarevic

Early Life

Olivera Lazarević, also often referred to in Byzantine and Greek sources as Maria, was the fifth child and youngest daughter of Knez Lazar and his wife Milica.

She was likely born around 1372/1373 and raised in her father’s capital, Kruševac, receiving the same education as her elder sisters, under the guidance of their mother and maternal aunt, Nun Jefimija.

Like most in her family, she was a fanatic of the arts and literature. Though she was never an artist in her own right, she acted as a patron of it.

There is a folk legend that in her youth, Olivera caught the attention of the Serbian knight, Miloš Obilić, who happened to be a frequent visitor at her father’s court and was considered one of the family.

This attraction led to a marriage proposal by Obilić, yet he was refused by her father, using her young age as an excuse.

Marriage to Sultan Bayezid I

Following the Battle of Kosovo in the summer of 1389, and the death of Sultan Murad I and execution of Knez Lazar, the Serbs abided themselves in a vassalage to the Ottomans due to the Hungarian attacks, who wanted to take charge of Serbia and the advancement of the Ottomans.

To officialize this "ending" vendetta, a proposal was made to the then regent, Milica, of a union of peace with the newly crowned Sultan Bayezid, son of Sultan Murad. Although the mother tried to fight and prolong her final decision, by the end of that same year, her youngest daughter was betrothed to the new Sultan.

The Serbian lords, who were quite unhappy about this betrothal, involved themselves in some sort of intrigues to make Bayezid suspicious in order to prevent this union. However, it obviously did not prevail.

It is unclear if the wedding reception took place in late 1389 or in the spring of 1390. As stated by Konstantin Kostenecki in his biography of Stefan Lazarević written in 1431, he reports that after the Ottoman ambassadors and Milica agreed on the marriage, Stefan appeared before Bayezid with his sister Olivera and the marriage took place. As far as we know, the proposal was accepted in late 1389.

Nonetheless, one thing is for sure, and that is the fact that the reception took place no later than the spring of 1390. This is because the joint action of the Serbs and Turks against the Hungarians in northern Serbia, southern Hungary, and eastern Bosnia took place already in the spring or at the latest in the summer of that year, meaning by the spring of 1390, Olivera was married to the same man who gave orders for her father’s execution.

The wedding seems to have been kept quiet as it appears to have taken place in a mosque, following a Muslim ceremony. Many Serbian lords and people were unhappy about their Orthodox Christian Princess marrying a Muslim, even if it brought some temporary peace to Serbia.

According to Ducas, a 15th-century historian, on top of many talents of silver from Serbia's mines, Bayezid received "a tender virgin."

It is possible that after this marriage Olivera took the epithet of "Despina" (meaning female despot, or mistress), or more plausible it is a title she had already acquired as a royal princess during her father's reign, and thus she became known as "Despina Hatun", Hatun being the Turco-Mongol title meaning "Lady."

It appears that for the rest of her life, she was referred to by this epithet instead of her actual name.

A Woman of Great Influence

Despite the unfavorable circumstances in which this political marriage began, it is noted by historical and contemporary historians that Bayezid loved and valued the counsel of his wife, Despina. It is accepted that the couple welcomed three daughters together; the eldest bears an unknown name, the second in line is Pasa Melek, and the youngest is Oruz.

Her legendary beauty, noble background, and education played a key role in Bayezid’s favoritism of her over all his other consorts and in his trust in her counsel.

From the moment she arrived until his last breath, she remained his main and favorite wife, and had influence on her husband's politics, which played in favor of her people.

Despina was, of course, blamed for having introduced European customs, wine, and mass partying into the once "pious" Ottoman court, and for "whispering in her brother’s favor." However, these criticisms were mostly due to the fact that she was a Christian wife and remained one even though she had influence over her husband. This of course, played a role in the Muslim Ottomans distain of her.

Though it is unknown if Despina reciprocated the same sentiment towards her husband, it is noted that wherever Bayezid went, he could not separate from the Serbian Princess, and thus he took her everywhere with him, suggesting that throughout their marriage she was willing to be a loyal companion to him.

According to Serbian sources, her biggest accomplishments were to partake in Bayezid’s decision to transfer a vast portion of Vuk Branković’s lands (her brother-in-law through Mara) in 1397, following the man’s death and place them under the governance of her younger brother, Stefan.

The other was to save her brother from Bayezid’s wrath in 1398 when he was accused of conspiring with the King of Hungary. Stefan came to the Sultan after the failed attempt of his mother to defend him. It is believed that Olivera was the one who stepped up, and her brother was forgiven upon admitting his fault.

Captivity

Following the aftermath of the Battle of Ankara in 1402, a battle which Bayezid and his sons, Mustafa and Musa, lost and were taken as captives, Timur sent his generals to plunder Bursa, taking many treasures from the palace with them, including Bayezid's concubines. Eventually, they made their way to Yenisehir, where Despina was hiding with two of her daughters.

Despina and her household were brought to Timur and later to Bayezid, who was being kept captive in a tent. Although they were treated with respect at first, events occurred that led to Bayezid being humiliated and kept in an iron cage, while his wife was forced to perform menial tasks at festivities.

Unable to bear the insult made towards his wife, Bayezid committed suicide in his iron cage and was temporarily buried in Akşehir, where he had passed.

Timur is believed to have felt great guilt because of this and released Bayezid’s entourage. He married Despina’s daughters to the son of one of his generals and the other to his grandson, Ebu Bakr Mirza. Both daughters moved to Samarkand where they lived with their families.

Later in 1403, Despina was released along with her stepson, Musa, during the transfer of Bayezid’s body to his personal mosque in Bursa. It is assumed she attended his second funeral.

As the Advisor of the Despots

Following her release, nothing is known or recorded about Despina's whereabouts until the 1420s. It is believed by some that she might have stayed in Bursa or somewhere nearby with her youngest daughter until she grew tired of the battle for the throne going on between Bayezid’s sons and later moved to Serbia.

Or, she might have stayed until the time her youngest daughter was married off.

After her return to Serbia, she took her place at her already widowed brother's side as his comforter and trusted advisor. However, she never lived at court but instead had her own residence in the courtyard of Belgrade.

She was extremely popular, respected, and valued in her homeland. Even during her lifetime, the Serbs referred to her as “Esther” due to her sacrificial marriage to a persecutor of the Christians.

During her stay in Dubrovnik, it is plausible she met with her sister and brother-in-law, Sandalj Hranic, though some historians believe she was there for diplomatic reasons, possibly to acquire information on her brother-in-law to inform her younger brother; the now Despot Stefan Lazarevic.

In 1427, her younger brother passed away, but this did not end her influence. Soon after, she acted as an advisor to her nephew, Durad Brankovic, and from 1430 onwards, moved with his family to Smederevo, the new capital.

Murad II, the Ottoman Sultan at the time, must have believed that since Stefan Lazarevic had died without any children to proclaim as heir, then the state should pass from Stefan to his step-grandmother, Olivera, and thus to himself.

As a result of this situation and threat to their state, historians believe it was Despina who planned Mara Brankovic's marriage to Murad in order to prevent the Ottomans from advancing. And thus, the marriage was concluded in 1435 in the Ottoman capital.

Though this marriage, unlike Olivera's own marriage, did not prevent Ottoman expansion in Serbia.

In 1441, while her nephew Durad was in exile, she traveled from Dubrovnik to Bar, where it is believed she was able to convey secret diplomatic letters to her nephew.

Later Life

Nothing is known about the later life of Despina from 1443 onwards; they lost track of her.

The last time she is mentioned alive is in a 1443 document, in which her sister, Jelena, names her as her executor in her will. She left money to Despina in order to build a burial place for her and to distribute some of the money to the poor.

After this, nothing more is recorded; it is unknown when, where, and how she died.

Issue

Unkown Hatun

Pasa Melek Hatun

Oruz/Uruz Hatun

( Sources: Osmanlı Sarayı’nda Bir Sırp Prenses/ Mileva Olivera Lazarevic by Mustafa Çağhan Keskin, КЋЕРИ КНЕЗА ЛАЗАРА ИСТОРИЈСКА СТУДИЈА ПОГОВОР by Jelka Redep, Dve srpske sultanije : Olivera Lazarevic (1373-1444) : Mara Brankovic (1418-1487) by Nikola Giljen, “КЋЕРИ КНЕЗА ЛАЗАРА ИСТОРИЈСКА СТУДИЈА ПОГОВОР” by Jelka Redep, Dve srpske sultanije : Olivera Lazarevic (1373-1444) : Mara Brankovic (1418-1487) by Nikola Giljen, The European Sultanas of the Ottoman Empire by Anna Ivanova Buxton )

[lightwise]

TBB S3E7 Reactions

Alright, in lieu of an analysis this week, you guys get some extra long reactions from me. Spoilers for Extraction under the cut!

- Of course the operative is still alive after being completely buried by rocks

- You okay there Rexy boy?

- Aww, Crosshair helping him up

- “There’s always another way” feels like foreshadowing

- CX does sound awfully like Tech when he’s grunting. Either that or DBB has only one way of making groaning noises 😂

- The rim lighting in this episode is such a pain for making screenshots but so satisfying for watching

- The modified clone theme when Wolffe lands 😭

- Wolffe was really getting 3PO flashbacks there with that disgusted sigh

- Isn’t Hilo a canon commando?? Or is he from legends?

- I will never get over how realistic light looks in this show

- There’s no way that CX just caught himself with his hands

- “We’re waiting on you” they’re not leaving Crosshair behind this time 🥹

- Lol Batcher. Licking cute clones faces. Always the priority

- How is this CX such a good shot??

- Oh Wolffe definitely has a constant headache. Idk how he’s actually put up with being in the Empire this long.

- This purple atmosphere is so pretty

- “I’m much worse” — SCREAMING. And the little tilt with his helmet to make his point clear? This man can have me however he wants. Anytime, anywhere. Call me, baby (I hope someone laughed at that lol)

- So Hunter does hear the ships. I wonder if his senses are more tuned for mechanical vibrations and animal life than people

- Lol Howzer is this really the time for a heart to heart?

- “Loyalty meant something to me” 🫡

- Lol that TK Trooper sounded like a mid-Atlantic 50s movie star

- How is the operative this nimble? Seems suspicious

- Smoke bombs are CF99s signature

- Interesting that for once the stun bolts are being used ON the Batch instead of by them.

- Wrecker and Batcher are a great team

- Hunter just dropping that TK and then Crosshair taking out their ship. Phew

- Also not suspicious at all that they’ve neutralized all the TKs and left the clone troopers for later.

- How did Crosshair sense the operative coming up behind them?

- RIP Nemec 😓

- “Too bad” 😩😩😩

- Oh Cross, you know you’re not the best at hand to hand combat. This is a very bad idea

- That waterfall is pretty though

- Dear lord why did they have to make these scenes so dark

- Oh fuck. I can’t even tell who threw who off the cliff

- The whole squad going after Crosshair even though he told them to get to the extraction point 😭

- CX obviously knows Crosshair and has beef with him. Again, for the millionth time—WHAT THE HELL DID HEMLOCK DO TO ALL OF THEM

- “You had your chance to be one of us. You chose the wrong side”. Really can’t wait for this to be explained.

- Crosshair’s reflexes are so fast for being all gangly limbs

- Okay I seriously almost had a heart attack here (this is a rewatch so my reactions aren’t immediate but holy cow I almost couldn’t believe what I was seeing watching Crosshair almost drown. Don’t you dare do it Jen!)

- It is v suspicious how fixated on Crosshair CX is even after he’s neutralized him

- Thank GOD for Howzer

- Okay, I can breathe a little again

- That’s…an awfully long fall for someone to survive

- The TBB team took the water scenes from The Crossing in season 2 and said, yeah, how about we just make that a million times better 🤯

- “That’s not Echo”. No, no it is not

- Good to know that Rex is still considered dead by the Empire (although that honestly seems strange that CX in season 2 knew who he was). That’s heartbreaking that Wolffe thought he was dead this whole time though

- Wow. The respect these two men have for each other

- “Oh I did. Lost a lot of good men that day” *cries in TCW season 7*

- Idk how Rex keeps going honestly

- His voice may be gentle but his face means BUSINESS

- Rex 🤝 Omega - believing the power of friendship can save anyone and anything they come across

- Fuck your orders Wolffe

- “I’ll make sure you’re given a fair trial” you really have no idea who you work for Wolffe do you

- Hunter being willing to stand down when Rex asks him to

- “I know you. As your brother, I’m asking you to do the right thing” the brotherly reunions this season are just paralleling all over the place

- Gregor the handsome fellow that you are. I swear his pauldrons get bigger every time we see him

- “Let my people go” the Exodus vibes are strong here too

- Guess we’re gonna be finding out what makes this CX so special. Still can’t believe he survived.

- Rex just lost almost all of his men again 😣😭

- The sheer respect and care that Hunter and Rex have for each other. The hand on the shoulder. The losses that tie them together. The worry and earnestness in Hunter’s face and tone when he tells Rex he can’t win. He doesn’t emote this much to people he doesn’t consider family.

- The ways Hunter still is hesitant to do anything but run and hide, and Rex still can’t give up. Not quite yet.

- How Hunter won’t be able to either until they know what is really going on with Omega.

[morgansmornings]

[valyrra]

I was yet again procrastinating at work and I made a relatively full list of my favourite games

RDR 2 (fr thats the best game I've ever played, since 2018) + RDR (1)

Mafia 2; 1

Team Fortress 2 (!!!)

Warcraft 3 + WoW

Garry's Mod

Devil May Cry 3; 5

Dragon Age Origins then 2, then Inquisition

Mass Effect 2, then 3, then 1

Prototype (1)

Minecraft

Stardew Valley

Dead By Daylight (I will not elaborate)

Portal 1;2

Quake 3 Arena

Sinking City

Left 4 Dead 2

Assassins Creed (1; 2; 3; black flag)

Yakuza 0; 7

Titanfall

Undertale

Cyberpunk 2077

Alan Wake 2

Stray

Layers of Fear

Detroit: Become Human

Star Wars Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy + SWTOR

The Last Guardian

God of War (4)

Half Life 2

Fallout 4

Death Stranding

TES V: Skyrim + TESO

Borderlands 1; 2

Uncharted (all)

The Last of Us

Neverwinter Nights (1)

Call of Duty: Black Ops 1; 2

Cry of Fear

Mortal Kombat 9-12

GTA 4; 5

Night in the Woods

Fran Bow

Little Misfortune

Baldur's Gate 3

Hades

Life is Strange + True Colors

Saints Row 3

Valorant

Overwatch

Payday

Apex Legends

Phasmaphobia

Mordhau

Valheim

Killing Floor

DayZ

LoL

Hogwarts Legacy

The games I plan to play:

Disco Elysium

Fallout New Vegas+ 3

Alan Wake 1

Resident Evil (hopefully all)

Silent Hill 1,2

TES: Oblivion, Morrowind

Outlast

Helldivers

Horizon Zero Dawn

God of War: Ragnarök

Animal Crossing: New Horizons (as soon as I buy Switch ;_;)

that goes also for The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Gothic 1 Remake

Alone in the Dark reboot

GreedFall

Wonderstop

[fandom]

Console Games

⬆️⬆️⬇️⬇️⬅️➡️⬅️➡️🅱️🅰️▶️

Deltarune +1

Genshin Impact -1

Five Nights at Freddy’s +20

Undertale

Animal Crossing: New Horizons

League Of Legends +35

Ace Attorney +2

Minecraft -5

Splatoon +20

The Sims 4

Pokémon Legends: Arceus

Final Fantasy XIV +6

Stray

Disco Elysium

Danganronpa -8

Team Fortress 2 +5

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim +7

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild -6

Hollow Knight -3

Stardew Valley -6

Flight Rising -2

Red Dead Redemption 2 +13

Persona 5 -1

Cyberpunk 2077 -16

The Quarry

Bloodborne +14

Among Us -14

Pokémon Violet and Scarlet

Fire Emblem: Three Houses +5

Omori -15

Destiny 2 -11

Portal +4

Dragon Age: Inquisition +10

The Stanley Parable

The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom

Hades -25

Pokémon Black and White

Cult Of The Lamb

Overwatch -11

The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword -2

Psychonauts 2

Dead By Daylight -15

Resident Evil Village -37

Bugsnax -19

Half-Life -8

Fallout 4 +1

Animal Crossing: New Leaf

Final Fantasy VII

Kirby And The Forgotten Land

Devil May Cry -11

The number in italics indicates how many spots a title moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded titles weren’t on the list last year.

[mrssimply]

ROADRAGE

V stopped the Porsche, tires screeching into an abrupt halt, dust flying everywhere around the car. He got out of the driver's seat like he'd the devil on his ass. 

And maybe that was more accurate than imagined. Johnny let out a mean laugh when V slammed the door and kneeled on his seat to crawl over the shift. His handsome face was twisted into a snarl, aviators firmly placed on his nose as he lowered the window completely.

V was shaking as he paced in front of the car. If he’d longer hair, he would be tearing it right now. As it was, he gritted his teeth and tried to breathe through the anger. It was rare nowaday that Johnny could work him like that, but the rocker had been in a foul mood the whole night, and talked shit without a break.

They’d been driving a while before V threw them on the side of this deserted road in the middle of the Badlands. A twenty minutes trip under Johnny’s constant belittling and nagging, and whining, and anti-corpo propaganda, and general criticism of V’s life choices.

Until he lost control.

“Aww, what’s the matter, babe?” Johnny sneered with a mean smile, “Did I get you all jealous?”

V closed his eyes and tried to find the patience and serenity needed to deal with Johnny when he got like that, but found none. He kept seeing the man slouched enticingly right next to that Animal psycho. She could’ve snapped his spine in three with her pinky but Johnny kept taunting her and making lewder and lewder suggestions. Worse was, she hadn’t been immune, her interest shifting from the business V had wanted her to conduct to the resurrected legend by his side.

Legs wide open, stretching his dark jeans until he might have torn them apart, Johnny had sagged in his seat, making his shirt ride up and flashing her with a hint of his flat stomach. V’s Kiroshis had zoomed despite his best intentions to her nostrils flaring, and her pupils dilating visibly. 

Johnny had smirked, his victory visible to V from the corner of his eyes, making it clear this was entirely intentional.

That was when the merc snapped.

He opened his eyes and turned to Johnny. Like a cobra rising out of its basket, the man was now bent through the window, looking at him with anger.

“Is that why you headtailed out of that gig? Are you that gonk? It was a once in a lifetime opportunity to make them heel for good and you botched it, why? ‘cause you can’t handle some cow making eyes at me?!”

“She wasn’t just making eyes at you,” V growled, stepping closer, pulled into the maelstrom surrounding Johnny like this was his first rodeo with the man.

The rocker laughed, out loud and cutting like a knife. 

“So what?! It’s not like I couldn’t have taken her.”

“I don’t think that’s what she was thinking about,” the merc hissed through his teeth, nearly nose to nose with his friend.

Johnny’s face fell into a sneer, eyes like cold diamonds behind his glasses. 

“Oh yeah? What was she thinking about huh?” he challenged, “Same thing you’re thinking about half the time, right? I don’t see where the problem is, V, if she was bold enough to try, maybe I should let her have a go.”

Jerking back and turning on his heels, V put some distance between them. He wasn’t gonna lose his cool, because that was exactly what Johnny had been looking for since he woke up yesterday.

“Let’s fucking go back, V,” Johnny growled, “right the fuck now.”

V only glared at him from over his shoulder, arms crossed.

“Get me back here so I can let her do what you’re obviously not capable off,” the man went on, pointing to the general direction of the city.

Amazingly, after his rebirth, Johnny had let V continue driving the Porsche. A clear proof of love if you believed Kerry and Rogue. V felt like this was a cursed gift because while Johnny insisted V drive him around, the man was on his ass the moment he took a too sharp turn, yapping on about his precious girl. The point was that Johnny liked to use V as his personal taxi, but the merc wasn’t in the mood right now.

“Drive yourself,” V replied, giving him the finger.

They looked at each other in stubborn silence, before Johnny smirked again. 

“Fine,” he concluded, becoming liquid as he folded himself back into the car.

V blinked, experiencing a moment of doubt. Johnny wasn’t really gonna get back to that mammoth, right? He wasn’t gonna let her do what he’d hinted at, right?

But the rocker was also known for his stupid pride, and apparently this was now a matter of making V lose, whatever the cost.

As Johnny turned the key into the ignition, V stepped closer again, arms coming loose at his sides.

“You’re not really going back,” he declared. 

Leaning into his seat and resting his metal arm on the windowsill, Johnny looked at V from over his glasses.

“What if I am? I mean, did you see her fingers? Bet it’s gonna feel amazing around my throat.”

In a last bid for wisdom, V tried to close his eyes again, like that had ever worked for anyone.

“Johnny…”

“V..” the man drawled the same way.

“You’re not going back to her.”

“Or yeah? You gonna do something to stop me?”

That was the question. V knew what Johnny was aiming at, he could understand the need crawling under his skin, but he generally turned to Kerry for that. 

“Are you gonna stop me?” Johnny breathed again, mouth right by V’s ear. “Shut me up like you’ve been dreaming the whole way here?”

His voice brought shiver to V’s flesh, an excited frisson running down his spine. 

“Or are you gonna choke up and chicken out? ‘Cause I bet she won’t. I bet she could hold me down and destroy me with just one hand.”

Before he realized, V had Johnny’s chin in a tight grip, fingers whitening around the rocker’s red mouth.

“Fine,” he snarled, “I’ll give it to you, bitch.”

[Continue reading on AO3]

[videogamedogbracket]

Final bracket reveal!

Hello, everyone! After some deliberation (and a very stressful shift at work) I've compiled the final list of participants for this bracket! This post is both a bracket reveal and a confirmation that I have the right characters/images. Be sure to let me know if there are any that need correcting!

Aesop/The Flame in the Flood, Ai/Puyo Puyo Tetris, Alice/The Last of Us 2, Amaterasu/Okami, Annoying Dog/Undertale, Arven's Mabosstiff/Pokémon Scarlet/Violet, Barbas/Skyrim, Barista/Rhythm Heaven, Barkley/Cassette Beasts, Barkspawn/Dragon Age: Origins

Blanca/Shadow Hearts: Covenant, Boney/Mother 3, Boomer/Far Cry 5, Brown/Rule of Rose, Caesar/Wargroove, Cain/Red Dead Redemption 2, Cerberus/Hades, Chibiterasu/Okamiden, Chop/Grand Theft Auto 5, Colonel Ruff/Brawl Stars

DD/Metal Gear Solid V, Digby/Animal Crossing, Dogamy and Dogaressa/Undertale, Dogmeat/Fallout, Dr. Potan/THE DOG Island, Dribble/WarioWare, Duck Hunt Dog/Duck Hunt, Elena/Spiritfarer, Flash/Jetpack Joyride, Flippy Doggenbottom/Toontown Online

Fondue/Rhythm Thief, Gab/Zero Time Dilemma, Garm/Guild Wars 2, Giblets/Elder Scrolls Online, Gretchen/Scarlet Hollow, Hewie/Haunting Ground, Holly/Super Lesbian Animal RPG, Hot Dog/Skylanders, Interceptor/Final Fantasy VI, Isabelle/Animal Crossing

Jackal/Hyper Light Drifter, Jake/Dog's Life, K.K. Slider/Animal Crossing, Koroku/Suikoden III, Koromaru/Persona 3, Lesser Dog/Undertale, Lord Arcanine/Pokémon Legends Arceus, Mame/Yakuza, Mira/Silent Hill, Missile/Ace Attorney

Missile/Ghost Trick, Monty/Spelunky 2, Moonless/Fear & Hunger, Noishe/Tales of Symphonia, PaRappa/PaRappa The Rapper, Pepita/Trauma Center: New Blood, Pickle/Papa's Pancakeria, Pizza/Chicory: A Colorful Tale, Polterpup/Luigi's Mansion, Pom/Pom Gets Wi-Fi

Poochy/Yoshi, Ppodae/Lobotomy Corporation, Princess Pooch/Fossil Fighters: Champions, Pryna/Final Fantasy XV, Randy/Wobbledogs, Rei/Guilty Gear, Ren/DRAMAtical Murder, Repede/Tales of Vesperia, Rex/Fallout: New Vegas, Rex/Fossil Fighters

Riley/Call of Duty, Rukey Greentail/Pyre, Rush/Megaman, Rusty Slugger/Rusty's Real Deal Baseball, Sam/Sam and Max, Sant Angelo di Roma/Final Fantasy VIII, Satty/Breath of the Wild, Sergeant O'Fera/Cuphead, Sif/Dark Souls, Sommie/Fire Emblem: Engage

Spot/Nintendogs, Sumo/Detroit: Become Human, Taroumaru/Genshin Impact, Toby/The Great Ace Attorney, Umbra/Final Fantasy XV, White Beast/Guardian Tales, Wick/Identity V, Willie/Deadly Premonition, Woby/Don't Starve Together, Wolf/Minecraft, Wolf Link/Zelda Twilight Princess, Wulfgar/Etrian Odyssey 2

Again, I can't thank everyone enough for their submissions. Sorry to everyone whose submissions didn't make it in, and rest assured that narrowing the list of participants down was hard.

The bracket itself is going to be posted tomorrow, as well as the first group of matchups. I'll be splitting the first few rounds into multiple groups, just so the sheer volume of contestants isn't so daunting!

And, of course, I wish the best of luck to each of these amazingly good boys and girls. See you all tomorrow!

[fineprintedsunsets]

ᴘɪɴᴋʏ sᴡᴇᴀʀ

Part 3 Of "Bucky and Bunny" Mini-Series | Master-List Link | Mini-Series Link

Synopsis: Bucky's breakfast turns into something you both weren't expecting.

Word Count: 1.6k

!Trigger Warnings! - p in v sex. unprotected sex. fluff. au. dirty talk. "you" with over use of pet name "bunny". table sex?

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :

All Of Me - John Legend

1:35 ───ㅇ─────3:47

The plate of waffles made your mouth water. The sweet scent of batter with the luxurious wafts of berries placed around your white plate had your mouth drooling. Bucky notices your perched-up smile, eyeing the breakfast he prepared. 

“Cat got your tongue, bunny?” He smiles, and grabs a fork, placing it on the side of your plate. 

“Bucky, you didn’t-” 

“I didn’t have to? The hell I did. I plan to cherish you for the rest of my life-” Bucky’s pointer finger came up, contacting your nose, his voice imitating a pop. 

“Eat up, sweetheart.” 

He just mother fucking booped you.

✪

The entire breakfast was filled with giggly touches, Bucky’s fingers “wondering” to the side of your thigh, running his rough palms over your core. You were tired of the teasing touches so you “accidentally” crept your fingers into his sweatpants, running your digits over the fabric of his boxers.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, bunny.” Bucky gruffs, digging his fork into his fluffy waffles. 

“Who said I started it?” You chuckle, pulling your hand away from him, stabbing a strawberry with your fork before bringing the ripe fruit to your lips. 

Bucky’s voice was faint, but it was hard to miss what he had muttered. “Fucking Brat.” 

“Maybe you should punish me.” You lick luxuriously at your strawberry, watching Bucky’s eyes dilate, his breaths becoming heavier. 

“Bunny. You're pushing it.” He grits out, making his fork contact with his plate a loud clash following shortly after. 

“Am I, Buck?” 

Bucky stands abruptly, the dishes moving with his actions. You gasp, not out of fear but pure enjoyment. 

Amusement, really. 

“Bunny-” Bucky sounded like he was struggling with himself. He pushes his chair in, walking to your side of the table. Bucky’s hair is disheveled, and his large frame towers over you.  You copy his movement, standing from your chair. 

You looked up at him, your breaths both sporadic as your eyes locked. “Can I touch you?” 

God. Consent is hot. 

“Of course, Bucky.” He does, his metal fingers meet the small of your back, his flesh fingers grazing your cheek, smiling down at you. You stand up on your toes, allowing you to reach your full height. 

“Bucky..” He silences your pleas, what a heavy kiss, his mouth working over yours, his heat flooding your body, the feel of his hands exploring your measurements. 

“Bunny. Fuck. We were supposed to have a nice breakfast.” Bucky still seems to be fighting with himself, it doesn't stop him though, his mouth finds its way back to yours as he cups your ass. 

“Is my cunt considered breakfast?” 

“It can be.”

Heat spreads through your core as you recall last night, the feeling of Bucky’s tongue inside you, his groans as he licked you. Bucky’s lips trail down your neck, leaving small kisses trailing from your neck to your collarbone. Bucky’s unoccupied arm goes to the table, moving all of your used dishes to the very edge. 

The chair is tossed somewhere, and the sound of splintering wood rings through your ears. Bucky’s eyes don’t go to the chair he’s just destroyed, they stay on you as he pushes your back into the table, his thick arms planting on either side of the surface. 

“I can’t get enough of you, bunny. Your body, your smile, your laugh. You know how to bring a soldier to his knees.” 

You gasp as Bucky’s fingers splayed across your stomach, flipping you over so you're against the table, your ass up, face planted in the wood. The sunlight filled your vision, illuminating Bucky in its beautiful rays.

You can feel his clothed cock nudge at you, begging to be released. You were positively dripping, your cunt soaking the fabric of your panties all the way through. Bucky groans as his rough palms go to your backside, sliding up his - too-big- -shirt, let you borrow, his eyes feasting on your panties, the evidence of your arousal only edging him on. 

“Is this what you want, bunny?” You sway your hips, teasing the man behind you, the one who’s heavy and hard in his boxers. 

“Fuck, yes.”

A harsh slap lands on your ass cheek, causing you to buck. “What was that for?” 

“I wanted to see my handprint on your ass.” You whimper as Bucky takes your panties and completely ruins them, ripping them in the process of their removal. You can hear him licking his lips, eyeing you up. 

His boxers are off in a second, joining your own undergarments. Bucky’s cock nudges at your entrance, sending waves of faint pleasure right to your clit. 

“Ready to take my cock, bunny. You want it to fill you up?” You gasp as Bucky slides his cock up and down your slit, causing you to buck, grabbing onto the edge of the wooden table. 

“Bucky, please.” You wiggle your ass just a bit, forcing yourself onto his cock, but Bucky only laughs.

“I said, do you want it to fill you, sweetheart?” 

“Yes, God, Bucky. Please.”  You moaning for him took a number on Bucky, He wrapped his metal hand under you, lifting you so your back was flushed against his own. The smell of him had you feral, his rough breaths as he re-adjusted his cock and pushed in. 

The intrusion made you wince, feeling the tip of his cock push past your slippery folds. You had been waiting for this, ever since Bucky found you that night at the club. 

“Shh, baby.” Bucky coo’s in your ear, wrapping his arm tighter around your stomach, making sure you don’t lose your grip.

“You okay?” The feeling of the stretch was burning, but soon it dissipated into an odd sensation. You had sex before, although something about this interaction was different. 

“Doll? Talk to me, is it too much?” Bucky’s voice pulled you from your focus on the feeling of him inside you, you understood now, why it feels so different. 

You weren’t having sex. 

You were making love.

“No, Bucky. Please, keep going.” You shut your eyes, shifting to stand at your full height before tucking your neck into Bucky’s shoulder. 

He places a tender kiss at the top of your forehead, before pushing in all the way. The sound of skin meeting skin and the burning delight of Bucky’s cock stretching you to your limit made you scream. 

“I love you, bunny. Fuck, I always have.” Bucky’s voice is strained, filled with a lust that’s been controlling you ever since you stepped foot in that bar. 

“Bucky..” 

“Shh..just let me fuck you. Let me-” Your pussy clenched around his cock, his loving words, his husky tone, it was almost too much. 

“You like that?” 

“Yes... Buck.” Your own voice is hoarse with desire, you clamp down on Bucky again, except this time he thrust up into you. Your hips buck at the feeling, blissful pleasure shooting through you. 

You can see early New York, the sun shining through the curtains of the windows. None of them mattered though, those people were just small specks in the universe, in your universe. 

Bucky thrusts again, turning his head to kiss your pliant lips. You melt into them, your hunger craving far more from him, begging and pleading to be filled with his cock, to be fucked against the table, to be tasted by him.

Bucky’s cock slides in and out of you with ease, your slickness making it easier as he thrust into you, kissing your lips, sucking the flesh of your neck, and holding you against him, making you take every inch of his cock. 

“You're so tight, doll, do you want me to keep talking to you? Your pussy would like that, wouldn’t it?” Another thrust had your back arching into him, your folds clamped around his length, milking him of everything he’s got. 

And oh how Bucky enjoyed the feeling of your folds never letting him go. 

“Talk to me, Bucky,”  You plead, your fingers grabbing onto his muscled thighs as his hands hold you up, balancing on each other's bodies. 

Bucky’s subtle scratches against your cheek as his lips arrive at your ear, as your own body starts to move in tune with his thrust, working his cock in and out of your cunt. 

“You take me so well, doll. And your pussy.. God. ‘Could stay buried inside of you forever.” Bucky’s breath started to fan out, his chest heaving unevenly. Your own orgasm was cresting as your thighs began to shake, feeling the twitching of Bucky’s cock inside you. 

“You gonna cum already, sweetheart?” A few more groans from Bucky has you shattering, his cock thrusting in and out of your pussy, his scratchy kisses, and his dirty words. It was all too much, and before you had time to catch your breath, you were coming on his cock. 

Bucky had felt it. The way your thighs were shaking, your fingernails digging into his legs, he felt your cunt squeeze him so hard, and the feeling of your orgasm as he continued the fuck you. His heart warmed at the feeling of being able to make you come, to provide pleasure for someone he loved. 

Love was the word that had him barreling over the edge, especially when it came from your lips, 

“Promise that-” You moan, the over-stimulation making you shake, panting as Bucky ruts into you. 

“Anything, Sweetheart.” 

“Pinky swear, you’ll always love me.” You gasp, the words practically rolling out of your mouth. Bucky’s thrust stuttered as he paused to look at you. Feeling your reciprocation of love in that moment when your bodies were entangled was something that kept the nightmares at bay. You made him forget, and that’s all he’s ever wanted. 

“I pinky promise, Bunny.” Your pinkies interlock between your bodies, and your eyes connect in a heated gaze no one can break as Bucky releases inside of you.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[ginkuki]

lady ...so mysterious

omg i was mistaken i did in fact have a non gaalee centric wip on the list. this is my sequel-prequel to Blood Sky Morning - my sirens gaaleesbians fic. it's the kakagais discussing lee going overboard but takes place after the original fic! it is named 'lady' because, idk i just think lady kakashi is fit 😌 i like women.

thank u v much for asking teehee

a snippet down yonder!

According to rumour, Kakashi was born wrapped up in the eye of a storm. Her mother, The White Fang, had given birth in the lull, then had gone right out and ordered her women to sail back into it. With Kakashi held snugly against her breast, they had torn through gale and rain.

As it is, Kakashi has no memories of the Hatake Sakumo that birthed her. She knows of her mother as nothing more than a legend. An old wive’s tale. A scatter of bones on the seafloor.

“Come back to bed, my darling.” Gai’s voice is sleep-low when she wraps an arm around Kakashi’s waist, swaddled in their sheets and facedown in her pillow. Outside the ship, the crash of water is more of a lullaby than anything else could be, though the sweet press of Gai’s lips to her shoulder is damn close.

“In a second.” Kakashi scrubs her hand over her cheek, where her scar itches with the cold breeze sneaking through cracks in the wood. “Sorry to wake you.”

Gai has always been so very strong. Stronger now when she sees the very set of Kakashi’s jaw and takes the initiative to sit up, drag her into her lap, to cradle her, rock her gently and sweetly. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

“And who is her?”

“The girl. The one you lost last week.”

Ah. The girl. The girl so naive, who had leapt from The Skirmisher before Kakashi even knew she had snuck onto it. She had swum towards certain death and Kakashi was powerless to stop it. The raw wounds on her wrists from rope-chafe still sting in the ocean spray. Gai wasn’t to know that Kakashi hadn’t been struggling to maroon herself, but to save another from the same fate, and Kakashi can’t dare feel anger for that.

Gai only did what she did best. She wore her mantel of saviour well - even if, this time, she saved the wrong one.

“Do you harbour regrets over not letting me free?” Kakashi asks, biting back an ocean’s worth of her own.

Gai’s thumb stills over Kakashi’s shoulder, the meandering stroke that brings goose pimples to flesh and a crab’s-leg-tickle of satisfaction deep within her soul. If she is offended, she only presses a full-lipped kiss to Kakashi’s jaw and says, “Never. In another life, I may have freed you and saved her, but you may have taken her fate. You may have joined your mother in the murky depths and our beloved ship would need to find a new Captain. What’s done is done, my love.”

“I would’ve deserved it.” Kakashi sighs, nose pressed into the hollow between Gai’s collarbones. Her own breath washes back over her, hot and salted. “The losses I’ve been responsible for are… immense. You should never have forgiven me for Lee.”

The breath Gai sucks in is deep, whooshing past Kakashi’s ear with all the force of a storm, the batter of wind against their hatches. With her voice wrung to near-death, she bends down to ensure that these words are for Kakashi only. “I never held you responsible. You forgave me - can’t you allow yourself the same kindness?”

“Never.” Kakashi brushes her lips over Gai’s collar, thoughts reforming into hard-edged silver. She thinks of Neji, innards splayed by talons sharper than any cutlass; of her own blindness; of the scar she’d left in Gai’s daughter’s leg. She wraps these thoughts around her skin and lets them dig in tight enough to bleed.

[quads4days]

The Curse of the Werewolf: Blue Moon Rises

Happy Halloween, Everyone! May your candy be plentiful and your gut full as you enjoy this Halloween Tale! 🎃

Chapter 1: Echoes from the Past

The cold February wind seeped through the gaps in the window, making the heavy curtains sway gently. Chase stared at his reflection in the old, ornate mirror that dominated his bedroom wall. Just four months ago, the image staring back at him was that of a lean, chiseled marathon runner. Now, the man in the mirror bore little resemblance to that memory.

His once-taut skin was now stretched, filled with an extra 60kg that seemed impossible to believe. The sharp jawline, a point of pride for Chase, was now softened, making way for a double chin that settled comfortably atop his significantly wider neck. His chest, once firm and defined, now hung heavier, the pectorals replaced with soft mounds that jiggled at the slightest movement.

But it was his midsection that showed the most drastic change. Chase's washboard abs, painstakingly earned through countless hours of training, were buried beneath layers of adipose. His stomach, once flat and rigid, now protruded in a grand, soft arc, cascading over the waistband of his sweatpants. The once negligible love handles had transformed into rolls that spilled over his sides. Every step, every breath caused ripples to run across the vast expanse of his belly.

Feeling a heaviness not just in body but in spirit, Chase sank into his reading chair, an old tome in hand. He had been scouring ancient texts and obscure internet forums for any hint of the curse Bennett had passed onto him. And there, in a weathered folklore book, he found it. A legend dating back centuries, discussing a curse far more insidious than he had feared. The "Werewolf's Curse," it said, wasn't just about uncontrollable weight gain during the full moon. The original curse allowed the cursed individual to pass it on through a bite, causing the afflicted to be overcome with the hunger of the wolf during the full moon of Halloween, an event that if Chase’s calculations were correct would occur again next Halloween. Administering the curse during such a full moon would rid Chase of his fat body and stop his monthly growth and cause him to turn into an alpha wolf, the image in front of him depicting the most muscular man Chase had laid eyes on in front of an illustration of a full mood. The curse, once transferred, would be his victims problem, leaving the victim heavier and the curser once again free to live their life.

Chase's heart raced, his new, hefty form quivering with anxiety. This was more than just gaining weight; it was a sinister game of passing the burden, forever altering lives. In his frustration, he stood up, the chair groaning under the sudden movement. He grasped his ample stomach with both hands, shaking it as if he could simply cast off the added weight, the thick layer of fat rippling like a disturbed pond. His face was etched with a mixture of despair and anger. He had 8 months until Halloween and at his current pace, could be very well too large to survive until that time came.

Just then, a soft knock echoed through the stillness of the room. A shadow passed by the frosted window pane next to the entrance. Someone was at his door.

Chapter 2: Unforeseen Bonds

The door creaked open slowly, revealing the familiar faces of Luke, Sean, and Ethan. But as recognition dawned on Chase, so too did a mixture of horror and surprise. For while he was taken aback to see his brothers on his doorstep, the changes in their physiques were even more startling.

Luke, the youngest, once had the lean build of a swimmer – elongated and streamlined. But now, the once pronounced muscles of his torso were noticeably softened. A pouch had formed around his belly, pushing against the fabric of his tight shirt, hinting at the beginnings of a more rounded physique. The V-line, which once directed one's gaze towards his slender hips, had faded, overshadowed by the soft bulge that started just below his navel.

Sean, always the lithe gymnast, now exhibited a roundness that betrayed his athletic history. His formerly flat stomach, which used to ripple with defined muscles during his routines, now bowed out gently, creating a silhouette that was undeniably softer. His love handles, previously non-existent, were making a noticeable appearance, cushioning his sides.

However, it was Ethan's transformation that was the most dramatic. The eldest after Chase, Ethan had the build of a sprinter – muscular, yet agile. Now, he looked as if he had taken a hiatus from all physical activities. His shirt, stretched taut across his form, revealed a pronounced belly, the result of months under the curse's effect. The belly was rounded, prominent, and jiggled slightly with each step he took. The waistband of his jeans dug into his sides, creating a muffin-top effect, emphasising his increased girth.

“Look at what you have done to us, Chase!” Ethan's voice boomed, anger evident in his eyes. Sean and Luke, equally upset but more contained, nodded in agreement.

Chase looked in horror. “How?” He prompted.

Ethan, his once chiseled jawline now softened, cleared his throat, gathering the attention of the room. "After we, well, taunted you on Christmas Eve, I noticed you seemed feverish, distant. As we all gorged on the desserts, I recall trying to grab a particularly decadent piece of cake from your hand." He rubbed the back of his now-chubbier hand absentmindedly. "In your frenzied state, you bit me. It wasn't a huge bite, more like a deep scratch, but I felt an immediate jolt of hunger like nothing I've ever experienced."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing, "Then, during a family get-together, I had a similar moment of insatiable hunger. I was sharing a pizza with Luke. As I reached for another slice, I accidentally bit him." Luke grimaced at the memory, rubbing the spot on his hand where the mark still faintly showed. "It was bizarre. It wasn't painful, but the sensation was... overpowering. Before I knew it, I was engulfed in this same hunger, and one unfortunate evening, Sean got in the way of my meal."

Sean sighed, looking down at his newly rounded belly. "I never stood a chance. The bite, the hunger, it's like a wildfire, spreading uncontrollably from one to another." The room was silent for a moment, the brothers absorbing the gravity of their intertwined fates.

Chase, overwhelmed with guilt and shock, tried to find the right words. "I didn't... I didn’t know. I swear!" he stammered.

Luke's voice wavered, a mix of frustration and sadness. "Look at us, Chase. How could you not know?"

Trying to calm the rising tension, Chase gestured to the living room. "Let's sit. Talk."

As they settled, the room was filled with the sound of fabric stretching and the occasional grunt as each tried to find a comfortable position with their newfound weight. Chase, in a bid to lighten the mood and also address the gnawing hunger the curse brought, brought out plates of sandwiches, pastries, and a large pitcher of iced tea.

Eating together, despite the grim circumstances, brought back a semblance of normality. The room resonated with soft chews, sips, and the clinking of cutlery. Chase felt a pang of nostalgia, remembering countless meals shared in their childhood. Despite the anger and the many questions that lingered, there was a comfort in this shared moment - a reminder that the bonds of family often ran deeper than any curse or adversity.

Chapter 3: The Gluttonous Moonlight Duel

The brothers, determined to confront the root of their cursed hunger, scoured the city for Bennett. They would force him to take back the cure, they just needed to find him. They looked in the old bars, visited obscure places Bennett might have mentioned, and even hired a private investigator. Their desperation grew with each passing day, knowing another full moon was on the horizon. The truth was, none of them had the willpower to handle the insatiable hunger another full moon would bring.

The brothers, determined to confront the root of their cursed hunger, scoured the city for Bennett. They looked in the old bars, visited obscure places Bennett might have mentioned, and even hired a private investigator. Their desperation grew with each passing day, knowing another full moon was on the horizon. The truth was, none of them had the willpower to handle the insatiable hunger another full moon would bring.

The day of the full moon arrived faster than they had hoped. Although the sun still dominated the sky, a gnawing hunger began to grip them. By nightfall, their restraint faltered. 

The brothers' unity in their quest to find Bennett frayed when the next full moon approached. A latent competitiveness, fostered since childhood in sports and academics, reared its head in the most unseemly manner. Each brother secretly harboured the hope that if they ate the most during the full moon, they might somehow outpace the curse's effects. It was a twisted logic, born of desperation and sibling rivalry.

In the heart of the city stood a 24-hour buffet that the brothers once frequented after marathon training. It now became their arena of competition. As the first pangs of hunger struck, Chase, a remnant of his former athletic self, loaded his plate high, the pile almost obscuring his newly bloated face. His shirt, already snug over a belly that had been washboard-flat merely months ago, looked ready to give way as he heaved mouthfuls of food.

Ethan, who was already bursting out of his clothes from previous feasts, seemed hell-bent on leading the pack. Every bite he took stretched his shirt a bit more, threatening to expose the soft, doughy expanse beneath. With each plate, a new roll seemed to emerge, his belly extending ever outward.

Luke, normally calm and collected, had a wild glint in his eye as he attacked dish after dish. His trousers, once loose, now bit into his flesh, creating noticeable muffin tops. His belly, firm and flat just months prior, bounced with each step, revealing his rapid transformation.

Sean, the youngest and least affected until now, was not to be outdone. He gorged with a determination that was both admirable and horrifying. As the night progressed, the waistband of his jeans dug deeper and deeper into his increasingly softening midsection.

The buffet transformed into a battlefield, with plates as weapons and food as ammo. The staff watched in horror and fascination, having never seen such voracious appetites. By the night's end, the brothers, each trying to out-eat the other, were sprawled amid a scene of utter devastation.

Dawn's light found them in Chase's living room. Chase, his belly stretched and bloated, spilled generously onto the floor, his shirt buttons ripped open unable to contain his newfound girth. Ethan, beside him, looked as if he'd swallowed a beach ball. His shirt, already tight at the start of the evening, had split open, revealing a quivering mass of fat.

Luke, curled on a chair, had clearly undergone the most dramatic transformation. His shirt had ridden up, exposing a once-taut stomach now soft and pudgy, quivering with the slightest movement. Sean, sprawled on the couch, was barely recognisable. His face, once angular, was now cherubic, and his stomach, round and distended, was a testament to the night's excesses.

Their food-fuelled competition had left them all losers in the cruel game of the werewolf's curse. The pressing need to find Bennett and break the curse became more palpable than ever.

Chapter 4: The Bitter Reveal

The stifling August heat was only made more unbearable for Chase by the weight he carried. Nearly 260kg now, he moved with difficulty, each step a reminder of the curse Bennett had placed on him. An investigator they had hired had finally tracked Bennett down to a park in the heart of the city, and Chase had managed to make his way there, accompanied by his brothers.

Bennett was a revelation, a stark contrast to the man Chase had known. Gone was the mountain of flesh, replaced instead by a physique that would not be out of place on a magazine cover. Broad shoulders, a chiseled chest, and abs that seemed carved out of stone. Bennett stood shirtless, performing calisthenics, drawing admiring glances from all around.

Chase, lumbering forward, could hardly believe his eyes. "Bennett?" he gasped, trying to catch his breath.

Bennett turned, his ice-blue eyes regarding Chase coolly. "Well, well," he drawled, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "If it isn't the marathon man himself."

Chase felt a hot flush of embarrassment as Bennett sauntered over, taking in Chase's massive form with obvious amusement. Without a word, Bennett reached out, his strong fingers digging into the soft flesh of Chase's belly, making it jiggle. Chase tried to pull away, but Bennett's grip was firm.

Around them, onlookers whispered and pointed, some even laughing. Chase felt like a sideshow attraction, humiliated and exposed. Bennett seemed to revel in the attention, clearly enjoying the power he held over Chase.

"You see, Chase," Bennett began, his voice dripping with condescension, "I had grown tired of my own immense size. The curse, as , is both a blessing . By transferring  my weight to you, I was able to revert to this." He gestured at his impeccable form. "I chose you that Halloween night because you were the perfect specimen. A fit, trim man, ripe for transformation."

Chase struggled to find words, his shame almost too much to bear. Bennett continued, "And the more you gain, the stronger the beast inside me becomes, did you know that? Each month you have been getting fatter, I’ve been getting stronger.” Bennett flexed his massive biceps. “Last month must have been a big one chase, I could hardly fit through my apartment door I gre so broad, all because you can’t keep yourself from eating like the pig you are.”

As if to emphasise his dominance, Bennett reached into his pocket and produced a large chocolate bar. Without warning, he pushed it against Chase's lips, forcing him to take a bite. "Eat up, fatty," he whispered maliciously.

Chase, tears of humiliation forming, felt anger rising inside his substantial stomach. He began to run after Bennett as he fled, the four father brothers trying to catch the last chance they had at a normal life.

Chapter 5: Labyrinth of Shadows

Under the mottled shade of the summer trees, Bennett's toned and muscular form glistened with a sheen of sweat, each sinew and contour exaggerated by the sun's dappled light. His shirtless torso was a testament to physical perfection, a sculpture come alive, every muscle rippling and flexing as he darted effortlessly ahead. The sunlight played tricks, casting an almost golden halo around him, making him look even more godlike. Behind him, the brothers labored in pursuit.

Chase, the heaviest amongst them, moved with surprising speed for a man of his size. Each step caused his swollen belly to bounce and jiggle, and his clothes strained to contain his expansive girth. Despite his massive size, there was a determination in his eyes, a fire fueled by the burning humiliation Bennett had subjected him to.

Ethan, despite being the next heaviest, tried to keep pace with Chase. His once trim waist now spilled over his jeans, and his shirt, too tight to button, flapped open, revealing a soft belly that danced with each heavy step. His face was flushed red, both from exertion and anger.

Luke and Sean, both now considerably plumper than they used to be, panted heavily as they followed. Their once fit physiques, though not as transformed as Chase's, were now cushioned in layers of soft fat. Their fuller cheeks and double chins bounced rhythmically, and their bellies, though smaller than their elder siblings', bobbed with every step, the shirts they wore riding up, exposing the lower curves of their new-found paunches.

The chase was a spectacle. On one hand, Bennett, the epitome of fitness, darted forward like a gazelle, while on the other, the brothers, weighed down by their new bulk, lumbered behind, a strange mix of determination and despair in their strides.

As Bennett led them on, the town's old carnival lot loomed in the distance, its rusting rides and dilapidated tents casting eerie silhouettes against the setting sun. Without pausing, Bennett made straight for the haunted house attraction, its entrance a gaping maw beckoning them in.

Not thinking twice, the brothers followed, their heavy breathing echoing in the dimly lit corridors of the haunted house. Strange shadows danced on the walls, and the sound of distant laughter filled the air, giving the place an atmosphere of chilling anticipation.

As they delved deeper into the labyrinthine twists and turns of the attraction, it became clear that this was no ordinary haunted house. Rooms expanded and contracted, hallways led to dead ends, and ghostly apparitions appeared and disappeared at will.

Suddenly, the brothers found themselves in a vast chamber, the ceiling lost in shadows. In the center stood Bennett, an eerie light illuminating his flawless physique from below, casting elongated shadows that seemed to dance and intertwine with the darkness.

"I've been watching you for months fat boy,” Bennett sneered, his voice echoing through the chamber. "Did you really think you could escape your fate, Chase?"

The singular door that allowed them entry suddenly slammed shut with a thunderous clang. Instantly, a thick, opaque gas hissed from unseen vents, rapidly filling the room. Despite their best efforts to hold their breath, the gas's overpowering nature made the brothers' heads spin. One by one, their eyes rolled back, and they collapsed to the ground, succumbing to unconsciousness.

When they awoke, the scene was more terrifying than any nightmare. The brothers found themselves bound on individual metal tables, cold and unyielding. Chains wrapped tightly around their wrists and ankles, rendering any movement impossible. Overhead, dim bulbs cast an eerie, flickering light, causing their now plumper shadows to dance grotesquely on the walls.

Bennett, now dressed in a dark tailored suit that accentuated his Adonis-like physique, leaned over Chase, his blue eyes piercing into Chase's soul. "You see, Chase," he began with a malevolent grin, "there's a little detail about this curse I hadn't shared. If you pass it on this Halloween, my growing power will be halted. But if I keep you here," Bennett's hand glided across Chase's expansive stomach, the coldness of his touch sending shivers down Chase's spine, "and ensure you keep eating and expanding, my strength will grow exponentially, unending. Imagine the possibilities."

The weight of Bennett's revelation hung heavily in the air, as the brothers exchanged terrified glances, realising the direness of their predicament.

Chapter 6: The Inescapable Feast

In the chamber's gloom, the four MacIntyre brothers lay captured, a grotesque banquet of burgeoning flesh. Each one was placed strategically so they faced one another, a cruel design by Bennett to ensure they bore witness to each other's continuous expansion. All of them were bereft of clothing, highlighting the stark transformation they had undergone in their captivity. Their fat forms were immobilised, not just by the sheer weight they had put on, but also by the chains that bound them to the cold, metallic tables.

Attached to each of their faces were tubes, which seemed to pulsate with a life of their own. From these tubes flowed a golden concoction that was the brainchild of Bennett's malevolent imagination. This liquid, he had explained with a smirk, was a specially concocted blend. A fusion of mass gainer to swell their size, an appetite stimulant to keep them constantly hungry, a muscle relaxant to ensure their bodies absorbed every calorie, and a thick sugary cream to accelerate their weight gain. The brothers had no choice but to swallow the relentless flow of the potion.

Chase, the eldest and once the paragon of health, lay with his midsection expanded grotesquely outward, a vast dome that rose and fell with his labored breaths. His once sturdy limbs were now submerged under soft, wobbly layers of fat.

Ethan, the next in line, had always been a tad larger, and this predicament had simply exaggerated his natural tendencies. His midsection was a maze of soft rolls and creases, with the skin stretched taut from the rapid gain. It was clear that his body had struggled to accommodate the sudden influx of weight. His cheeks were chubbier, giving him a boyish appearance that contrasted with the large double chin resting on his neck. He now had a belly that sagged significantly, folding over itself. The skin stretched and shiny, bearing testament to the rapid accumulation of pounds.

Luke was distinguishable by the peculiar distribution of his new weight. His backside had grown immensely, creating an elevated mound on the table. It wobbled independently of the rest of him, it had blossomed into a large, rounded mass that lifted him slightly off the table, and when he occasionally shifted, it would jiggle for several seconds, betraying its softness.

The youngest, Sean, was a spectacle of even distribution. The added weight had rounded him out uniformly. His once angular face now exhibited plump cheeks and a fullness that erased the vestiges of youth, giving him an almost cherubic appearance. s belly, while not as pronounced as Chase's, was still a significant mound, with a deep crease where it met his pelvis.

Bennett's potion was a masterstroke of wickedness. As much as they were horrified by their situation, the brothers couldn’t help but feel a perverse yearning for the golden nectar, their bodies betraying them with each insatiable gulp.

Chapter 7: The Power of the Full Moon

The atmosphere in the chamber became electric as Bennett purposefully moved to a lever on the wall. With a swift pull, the roof slowly split apart, revealing the ominous night sky. The brilliance of the September full moon flooded the room, illuminating every crevice and corner, bathing all in its ethereal light.

Striding with purpose, Bennett shed his clothes, standing in his full muscular glory, every sinew and contour outlined by the luminescent moonlight. The very aura of strength and dominance emanated from him as he soaked in the full force of the lunar energies.

Chase, Ethan, Luke, and Sean, already incapacitated, could do little more than become vessels for the overpowering transformational energy of the full moon. The effects of their curse, magnified by the celestial event, took hold with unprecedented vigour. Their feeding tubes, already delivering the potent potion into them, seemed to pulsate faster, urging them to consume more. Greedily, they swallowed, their bellies making soft, sloshing noises.

Chase, already the largest among the brothers, began a grotesque metamorphosis under the moon's influence. The once athletic form, now imprisoned by layers of lard, seemed to come alive with a voracious appetite for expansion. His flesh, as if possessed, started to ripple and quiver, each wave pushing the boundaries of his skin further. The room echoed with the sound of skin stretching taut and the soft sloshing of the liquid coursing through his feeding tube, catalysing his transformation.

Above his head, a scale displayed the alarming rate of his growth. The numbers, which had been steadily climbing over the weeks, now leaped forward at a frantic pace: 320kg, 325kg, 330kg. The pace was unrelenting. Every second seemed to add more weight, each digit flashing faster than the last. 335kg, 340kg, 345kg. It was as though some invisible force was pumping him full, each pulse adding kilograms. The soft, pliable fat from earlier was now consolidating into heavy, pendulous masses. His belly, once able to sway slightly, became more solid and pronounced, stretching down and threatening to touch the floor. As 350kg approached, his legs, buried beneath the burgeoning bulk of his abdomen, were slowly being swallowed up, becoming mere appendages to the leviathan mass that was his stomach.

His sides filled outwards, like dough rising unchecked, consuming the space around him. What was once a distinguishable waistline vanished into rolls that cascaded down, merging with the equally expansive swell of his hips. As the scale hurtled past 360kg, his chest, no longer discernible from his midsection, was now a plateau of flesh, rising and falling with his increasingly laboured breaths.

The transformation was a haunting symphony of expansion. Chase's body, under the potent combination of the moon and Bennett’s concoction, seemed hell-bent on becoming an unending expanse of fat. The room itself seemed to grow smaller as his enormity filled every available inch, turning his form into a dark monument of excess and overindulgence.

Ethan, previously a robust figure, was now a distorted version of his former self. Once tipping the scales at a fit 100kg, he had always carried his weight with a sense of pride, a touch of bulk to his frame that gave him presence. But now, his body betrayed an entirely different story. The scale above him blinked rapidly: 150kg, 155kg, 160kg...

As the weight packed on, his once broad shoulders were now rounded, padded with thick layers of soft adipose. His midsection, previously taut with muscle, was now a vast expanse, billowing outwards, pushing his once toned pecs into soft, pendulous breasts. Each ripple and shudder of his body made it expand sideways, making him wider and broader, as if trying to occupy as much space as possible.

His abdomen was a canvas of rolls upon rolls, cascading downwards and outwards, each layer softer and more pronounced than the one above. The once firm belly now sagged heavily, folding over in thick layers, every fold deepening with each kilogram he added. His navel, once a simple indent, was now lost within the deep canyon of his belly. The sheen on his stretched skin, reflecting the dim light of the room, bore silent witness to the extreme pace of his gain.

His face, though still recognisably Ethan's, was puffier. The chiselled jawline was now obscured, buried beneath chubby cheeks that gave him an almost innocent, boyish appearance. But this semblance of youth was betrayed by a heavy, large double chin that rested heavily on his neck, quivering with every breath. The scale above hesitated momentarily at 190kg, before inching agonisingly forward. It settled, blinking, just a hair shy of 200kg, marking Ethan's shocking transformation.

Luke, with his gymnast background, had always flaunted a lower body that drew attention, a chiselled monument to his countless hours on the pommel horse and parallel bars. As the curse’s effect took hold, the very athleticism that defined him became his undoing.

His buttocks, previously firm and rounded from years of discipline, continued to expand at an alarming rate. They swelled in size, morphing from solid muscle to soft, yielding flesh that jiggled with every heartbeat. Each cheek ballooned outwards and downwards, reminiscent of overfilled sacks of rich cream. The tables creaked ominously beneath the mounting weight, protesting the rapid deposition of fat. It was as if gravity itself had decided to claim Luke's posterior, pulling and stretching it down, rendering it a dominant feature of his burgeoning silhouette.

In tandem with his expanding rear, Luke’s thighs thickened dramatically. Once lean and muscular, they now resembled overstuffed sausages, straining with the rapid addition of fatty tissue. The inner thighs rubbed together with an audible chafing, each step a testament to his newfound girth.

His love handles and hips didn’t escape the cruel twist of fate either. Fat accumulated around his midsection at an alarming pace, causing his once narrow waist to broaden and blur into his ballooning hips. His once taut sides now bore the burden of heavy flaps of fat that jutted out, creating a pronounced pear-shaped silhouette. The defined V-line he once boasted had disappeared, replaced by a soft, flabby curve that merged his abdomen with his inflating love handles.

Luke's scale, affixed above, mirrored his drastic transformation. Numbers soared the former lean 90kg man, skipped past the 130kg mark, and settled with a mocking finality at 153kg, marking the rapid and shocking expansion of the once agile gymnast.

Sean, with his youthful sprightliness and lean form, seemed almost ill-suited for the curse's perverse machinations. Yet as the full moon's power coursed through him, the transformation it wrought was nothing short of astonishing.

Initially, the youngest of the brothers began to expand uniformly. It started with a slow puffing out of his chest, followed by a widening of his waist. Every part of him began to inflate simultaneously, as if an invisible force was pumping him full of air. His pecs, once flat and athletic, became rounded mounds that protruded from his expanding torso. His arms, though still visibly muscled underneath, were blanketed with a layer of fat, turning them from chiselled limbs to thick, padded appendages.

But it was his midsection's transformation that truly defied belief. As he gained, his belly didn't droop or sag like his brothers'. Instead, it swelled outwards in all directions, giving him the appearance of a perfectly spherical ball. This even distribution of weight rendered his navel almost a central point on this vast expanse of white, taut flesh. His back, too, curved outwards, ensuring that from any angle, Sean looked like a near-perfect circle.

His legs, once slender, became tree trunks of fat, each thigh nearly touching the other all the way down to his knees, their muscular definition hidden beneath the soft layers. His calves, too, puffed out, making it seem as if his feet might disappear beneath the inflating mass at any moment.

His face, always cherubic, became rounder, the sharpness of his jawline now obscured by a layer of plumpness. His cheeks resembled juicy apples, full and rosy, while his neck seemed to have been absorbed into his swollen chest and chin, creating a seamless transition.

The scale positioned above him blinked and whirred, reflecting his burgeoning mass. The digits climbed: 100kg, 110kg, 120kg, before finally settling with a small beep at 130kg. The sight of the number only accentuated the uncanny, balloon-like transformation of Sean, the boyish brother who had morphed into a fleshy orb under the moon's malevolent glow.

Amidst this transformational chaos, Bennett's body too underwent a change, but in stark contrast to the brothers. Every muscle in his physique bulged, growing larger and more defined. Veins snaked their way across his body, pulsating with the power he was drawing from the full moon and the brothers' plight. His shoulders broadened, and his chest expanded as if an unseen force was inflating him from the inside. The sheer force of his muscular expansion seemed to be in perfect tandem with the brothers' fattening.

A powerful energy permeated the chamber as each man reached a climactic point in their transformations. Bennett, at the height of his muscular growth, appeared as the ultimate alpha wolf, while the brothers, though immobilised, could not deny the overpowering dominance he exuded.

Suddenly, the overwhelming force of the combined transformations reached a crescendo, and the room was filled with a blinding light, enveloping each of them. Moments later, the room plunged into darkness, the weight of the night's events causing every occupant to fall into a deep unconsciousness.

Chapter 8: The Heavy Reality

The room's chilling atmosphere was stifling, but even that couldn't hide the warm, pulsating hum of four obese bodies, each grotesquely distorted by an unthinkable curse. Chase tried to shift, to get a better view of his brothers, but the sheer weight of his own body inhibited him. His vision was dominated by his massive, fleshy breasts which, like twin mountains, jutted out and were only surpassed in scale by the undulating mound of his stomach below.

It wasn't just their size but their feel; the very texture of his flesh had changed. Where it had once been taut and firm, it was now soft and doughy, yielding to even the slightest touch. He could feel every roll, every crease, every stretch mark that adorned his new body, mapping out a topography of his torment.

A strange sensation tickled the underside of his gargantuan gut, and it took him a moment to comprehend what it was. His belly, distended and pendulous, had grown to such a magnitude that it now grazed the cold, stone floor, pulling his skin in different directions.

Sean, Luke, and Ethan, while not as massively transformed as Chase, were unrecognisable. The brothers who once laughed, competed, and shared a lifetime of memories together, now lay incapacitated by their own bodies, their features obscured by layers of fat.

The faint echo of footsteps grew louder, and the door creaked open, revealing the towering, muscular form of Bennett. His physique was a stark contrast to the brothers: where they were round and soft, he was chiseled and hard. The malevolent gleam in his eyes made it clear that he took perverse pleasure in their plight.

"Good morning, boys," Bennett's voice oozed with malice, filling the room with an even more pronounced sense of dread. "Enjoying your new figures, I see?"

Chase tried to respond, to muster some sort of defiance, but all that came out was a heavy, laboured breath. Bennett approached him, his eyes raking over Chase's form with a mix of pride and mockery. The muscular man leaned over, his hands caressing the vast sea of flesh before him. Each touch sent a shiver through Chase, as Bennett seemed to savour the sensation of so much softness beneath his fingers.

"You've always been the standout, haven't you, Chase?" Bennett whispered, his breath hot on Chase's ear. He pressed himself into Chase's side, hugging the mass of flesh. "420 kilograms. A magnificent size. And just think," he continued, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper, "in a month's time, this will be but a memory as you grow even larger."

With a final, lingering touch, Bennett straightened up and moved towards the door. "Enjoy your stay," he smirked, the door slamming shut behind him, sealing the brothers once more in their fleshy prison.

Chapter 9: Encroaching Desperation

In the cold, dimly lit chamber, the incessant drone of slurping and gulping seemed to magnify, echoing off the stone walls in a macabre symphony of gluttony. As days melded into nights, and nights into days, Chase's perception of time warped. The room, which once seemed vast, now felt increasingly confined, not due to any change in its dimensions, but rather the ceaseless expansion of the occupants within.

The sweet, viscous nectar that flowed into Chase's mouth through the feeding tube was intoxicating. Every gulp was a mix of bliss and torment; the pleasure of the taste juxtaposed with the horror of his uncontrollable growth. Even as his thoughts grew muddled, one unyielding desire remained at the forefront of his mind: to consume.

Chase's body was a testament to excess. His mammoth breasts, heavy and pendulous, completely obscured his vision, pushing up towards his face in their quest for space. The sheer enormity of his belly was incomprehensible; it sprawled out in every direction, the skin stretched thin, glistening with sweat and speckled with reddened stretch marks.

But then came a new sensation—a pressure at the front of his distended gut. At first, he assumed it was just another roll of his own fat folding over itself. But as the minutes passed and the feeling persisted, the unsettling truth dawned upon him. The pressure was external. It was Ethan's body meeting his, their growth pushing them inexorably together.

The brothers' bodies, once distinct entities, now melded and merged, their boundaries blurring in this grotesque tapestry of flesh. The very air in the room seemed to grow thinner as their combined bulk consumed the available space. Chase's moans of pleasure and discomfort intertwined with those of his brothers, creating a haunting chorus that spoke of both ecstasy and despair.

As the feeding continued, Chase's thoughts spiralled into chaos. He was trapped in a cycle of arousal and horror, torn between the pleasure of the relentless feeding and the impending doom that lurked ever closer. The forthcoming Halloween full moon was a ticking time bomb, promising either salvation or an even grimmer fate.

With each passing moment, one thought grew more and more pronounced in Chase's fevered mind: Would the moon's transformative power be their saviour? Or would they simply continue to grow, their bodies pushing and pressing against each other until they were nothing but a mass of flesh, smothering one another in their insatiable hunger?

Chapter 10: Shadows of the Full Moon

The hollow echo of night birds and the rustling of trees filled the cavernous chamber as the roof creaked open, revealing the inky sky. Stars twinkled like scattered diamonds, but what caught Chase's strained eyes was the pale, foreboding glow of the Halloween moon. Its silver light bathed the room, casting ghostly shadows and illuminating the vast, undulating expanse of flesh that the brothers had become. The brothers, their restraints now released, attempted to communicate with each other. Their once-strong voices were now muted, distorted by the sheer mass of their swollen, fat-encased throats and the torment of weeks in bondage. Sean's voice emerged, more a distorted moan than a clear utterance. "Chase... God, you've... transformed... must be pushing past 650kg."

From deep within his own cavern of flesh, Luke struggled to project his voice, each word a battle against his engorged jowls and cheeks. "Sean... my God, you're unrecognisable... you've ballooned beyond 300kg!" Amidst the layers of fat that blanketed him, Ethan managed a choked whisper, the strain evident in his words, "Luke... you're not... not trailing far... easily 250kg."

Chase's world was a suffocating cocoon of his own body. Everywhere he turned, mountains of his own flesh blocked his view. Desperately, he tried to shift, the mass of his form resisting at every attempt. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his heart raced, and his breathing came in ragged gasps as he endeavoured to catch a glimpse of Ethan’s scale. After a nightmarish struggle, he saw the numbers, and the reality bore down on him with a weight even greater than his flesh: an unthinkable 450kg.

A sudden rush of cold air heralded the entrance of a new figure. Bennett, now an 8-foot titan of muscle, loomed over the brothers. Every rippling sinew of his body seemed to be chiseled from stone, a stark contrast to the soft, expansive forms beneath him. Naked and unashamed, he manoeuvred his way through the mounds of flesh, his sneering face a mask of dark triumph.

He clambered atop the vast terrain of the brothers' combined bellies, his powerful form casting a long, threatening shadow. As he settled, the sheer weight of his muscular frame pressed down on them, eliciting groans of discomfort. Bennett's fingers, strong and unyielding, dug into the soft fat, manipulating it, toying with the brothers as if they were nothing more than playthings.

Lying atop the vast sea of the brothers' stomachs, Bennett looked up at the rising moon, his face illuminated in its haunting glow. "I hope you're enjoying your new forms," he whispered malevolently. "Because this is only the beginning. You'll be my everlasting machines, your bodies expanding endlessly, fuelling my growth."

Chase's heart raced. The moon was at its zenith, and the curse's power was at its peak. This was their one chance, the one moment when the curse could potentially be reversed. But the realisation was a double-edged sword. As he tried to summon the will to act, the enormity of his form betrayed him. He was immobile, trapped by his own body.

The room felt colder, the weight of Bennett's body and the impending doom pressing down on them, magnified by the power of the Halloween moon. The lines between hope and despair, between salvation and eternal entrapment, seemed to blur.

Chapter 11: The Curse Reversed

The atmosphere was electric as Bennett rose to his feet, every sinew in his bulging muscles tightening in anticipation. He lifted his arms, reaching out to the heavens as the glow of the massive blue moon washed over him. It was as if the universe had painted the sky especially for this moment – the moonlight, pure and unfiltered, cast a silvery-blue sheen over everything, painting the grotesque scene in stark relief.

“Grant me your power!” Bennett roared, his voice echoing with raw desire, every fibre of his being resonating with the pull of the moon. He stood tall, his chiseled form in stark contrast to the vast landscape of flesh beneath him. The brothers, for all their grotesque size, seemed almost dwarfed by his towering, muscular presence.

But as Bennett revelled in his moment of ascension, an unforeseen twist awaited him. Slowly, he felt a peculiar sensation. Glancing downwards, he realised with growing horror that his foot was sinking into the soft flesh beneath him. As if it was quicksand, the mounds of fatty tissue began to envelop his leg.

"No!” he cried, panic evident in his voice. Trying to retract his foot, he only found himself sinking further. The very mass he had cultivated in the brothers was now becoming his prison.

The brothers, sensing his vulnerability, began to stir, their moans of despair transforming into growls of determination.

“Hold him!” Sean gasped, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. And with an effort that seemed impossible for his overstretched body, he rolled forward, his mouth finding purchase on Bennett’s straining bicep. Bennett screamed, a sound of pure agony, as Luke, with newfound strength, lunged forward and clamped his jaws onto Bennett’s outstretched hand.

Ethan, his face a mask of determination, managed to hoist his swollen form enough to take a bite out of Bennett’s shoulder. The pain was clearly excruciating as Bennett's cries reached a fevered pitch.

But the crescendo was yet to come. Chase, the largest and most transformed of them all, summoned every ounce of his might, rolling his colossal mass forward. As he moved, waves of fat rippled outward, pushing Bennett further into their collective mass. As the moon reached the zenith of its power, Chase, with a look of grim determination, leaned over and bit down hard into Bennett’s thigh.

The muscular titan's screams of pain and fear resonated in the room as he found himself sinking deeper and deeper into the sea of flesh below him. As his head began to submerge, the combined weight of the brothers bore down on him, muffling his cries.

And then, as the final seconds of the full moon's peak ticked away, the room was filled with the chilling, combined howl of the brothers. The sound echoed, merging with the night, until everything faded into blackness.

Epilogue: Happy Halloween

Chase grunted slightly as he struggled with the rebellious button, but ultimately gave up. The silver strands of his shirt clung to the striations of his impressively muscular chest, highlighting the sinewy contours of his physique. The Halloween night air was cool against his skin, but he felt a warmth radiating from within, the pride of his transformed body. Every ripple, every bulge, was a testament to their hard-fought victory against a dark curse.

Flashing back to that horrifying Halloween night, Chase shuddered, even with his now almost invincible physique. The nightmares of their ordeal persisted, but amidst that darkness emerged a new beginning for him and his brothers. Their shared trauma had cemented their bond even further. The brothers had not only defeated the curse, but in its wake, they had morphed into muscular gods, their bodies sculpted as if by the finest artists.

Ethan, always the tallest, now had shoulders so broad they seemed to span doorways. His washboard abs prominently displayed under the tight fabric of his werewolf costume. Luke, previously lean, now boasted legs so muscular they looked like they could lift a car. His toned arms flexed effortlessly, causing more than a few onlookers to gasp in admiration.

Sean, the youngest, had retained some of his boyish charm, but it was now paired with the physique of a seasoned bodybuilder. The definition in his back muscles alone drew attention from afar. He had traded his youthful naivety for an athletic confidence.

The carnival lights painted a surreal glow on the night, as the brothers converged at the entrance of the haunted house. Their laughter was hearty, filled with camaraderie and jests about their synchronised werewolf attire. They appeared more like models from a fitness magazine than men who had once been trapped in a nightmare.

Entering the haunted house, they navigated the dimly lit corridors, the scent of musty old wood and artificially aged props assaulting their senses. And then, they came upon an attraction titled 'Human Blob'. The grotesque figure of an immobile man, seemingly weighing a tonne, lay before them. Its face was obscured by the layers of fat, making it seem eerily lifelike.

The brothers exchanged knowing glances, the atmosphere thickening with tension. Luke hesitated a moment, then reached out, giving what appeared to be an animatronic figure a tentative poke. To their horror, the flesh yielded slightly under his touch, warm and pulsating. However, the brother’s knew that this wasn’t some carnival contraption, but a living, breathing entity. And not just any entity – the grotesquely swollen form before them was unmistakably Bennett. The mighty and malevolent figure from their past had been transformed, cursed by the very power he sought to harness. The blue moon had taken its revenge, transferring the combined weight of the brothers onto Bennett and then some.

His once muscular physique was buried beneath layers and layers of accumulated fat. His limbs were buried beneath his bulk, and his facial features were almost indistinguishable, smothered by the rolls that cascaded down. A stifled, gurgling sound emanated from deep within the folds, a chilling testament to the life still trapped inside this mountain of flesh. This was Bennett's cruel fate: with every full moon, he would continue to expand, forever trapped in his ever-growing prison of flesh. His eyes, the only recognisable feature, pleaded silently from their sunken sockets. They told a tale of endless hunger and an insatiable appetite that the brothers could once relate to. Ethan whispered to his brothers, “He's still growing...”

Chase, eyes cold, approached the engorged form of Bennett, leaning close to where he assumed the man's ear would be. “Happy Halloween, Bennett,” he murmured, his voice dripping with a mixture of pity and vengeance. The blob shuddered and a loud moan filled the air. The brothers left the haunted house, but the haunting image of Bennett's grotesque transformation would remain with them. Every full moon, they would return, feeding Bennett in a twisted act of mercy and ensuring his curse continued. It was their way of remembering the nightmare they had escaped and the price of meddling with powers beyond comprehension.

Under the pale illumination of the full moon, the brothers paused. Its intense light bathed their chiseled forms, casting elongated shadows on the ground. A sudden surge of power pulsed through them, making their skin tingle. They exchanged anxious glances, bracing for what was to come.

Chase's eyes widened as he felt a peculiar sensation, like molten steel flowing through his veins. With a mixture of awe and apprehension, he watched as his thighs began to swell, the sinewy muscles expanding and bulging. The fabric of his pants groaned under the strain, the seams straining and beginning to pop.

Ethan, smirking, slapped Chase's now even more muscular posterior. "Always told you those calves needed catching up," he teased, a twinkle in his eye. Chase huffed a laugh, flexing his burgeoning calves for emphasis. "Just making sure you guys don't forget who the biggest brother is," he quipped back.

For a moment, the atmosphere lightened, the brothers basking in their newfound strength and unity. Their laughter echoed through the quiet night, a stark contrast to the eerie memories of the past. With their broad shoulders touching and their heads held high, the brothers continued their journey, leaving footprints embedded deeply in the ground, symbols of their growing power. As they walked, their forms grew ever more imposing, silhouettes of raw strength against the moonlit night. A howl rang into the night from the haunted house, the curse of the werewolf audible to all dormant for now until once again, the bite of fate is shared with another.