Male Blueberry Inflation Stories Novels & Stories

I'd made plans to spend New Year's Eve with my fiancee, Sophie Bennett. I'd even rushed home with a custom cake I picked up just for us. However, my smile slipped the second I walked in. A photo of Sophie and me that was hanging on the wall was being used as a dartboard. Her guy best friend, Sean Hewitt, had one arm wrapped around her waist while casually throwing darts at it. "Oh, hey, you're back?" he said with a grin. "Perfect timing. We're playing Truth or Dare." The words had barely left his mouth when another dart hit the photo—right in my face. My chest tightened as I parted my lips to call him out. Yet, Sean only laughed. "Wow, hit you again? Guess even fate thinks you two aren't meant to be." Then, he added, all fake innocence, "Don't get the wrong idea, alright? It's just a game. Sophie and I are basically bros. You're not seriously bothered by this, are you?" I stood there, completely still. As I stared at that photo completely riddled with holes, I couldn't help but think it looked a lot like my heart at that moment. Sophie gave him a half-hearted scolding. "Alright, cut it out." But Sean just put on a wounded look and kept his arm around her waist. Sophie only smiled helplessly before turning to me with clear impatience. "Sean's just messing around. Don't stand there with that look on your face and kill the mood. It's just a photo. We can print another one tomorrow. Stop being so petty."

At the company's annual party, my fiancée, the CEO, was chosen for a game called "opposite-gender squats." With the whole room cheering, she did not hesitate. She jumped onto a young male intern and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. He held her by the hips as he lifted and lowered her again and again, while she laughed as if she did not have a care in the world. Then came the second round: blindfolded face recognition. When her hands reached the intern, her fingers lingered on his lips and traced them slowly. He suddenly licked her fingertips. Right there, in front of everyone, he smirked. "Miss Smith, your hands are really soft. The way you touched my lips just now… that felt amazing. This kind of perk beats any year-end bonus. You smell incredible, Andrea." Her face flushed red, but she did not deny it. She only smiled, shy and pleased. That was when I let out a cold laugh. "If you like it that much, I will assign you as the CEO's assistant. All business trips next year, you two can go together." Her expression changed instantly. "Daniel, what is with the attitude? Can't you handle a game? It's just for fun. Why are you making such a big deal out of it? Who is going to dare play with me after this?" "Fine. If you enjoy playing so much, then go play with him. Because that CEO seat is about to belong to someone else," I muttered.

On Valentine's Day, I wait for my wife, Nancy Curtis, to get off work after preparing a candlelit dinner for our date. But she only texts me at 9:00 pm. "I have something going on at the company. There's no need to wait for me." Soon, I see a Facebook post made by Nancy's secretary, Derek Jones. "I'm on a business trip with my female boss on Valentine's Day. The thing is, the hotel's fully booked. Oops, this is getting awkward…" The photo in the post features a feminine silhouette standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling window while draped in a bathrobe. Everyone in the comment section compliments Derek for being lucky, seeing as the boss of his has a smoking hot figure and is extremely charming. Derek merely replies with a cheeky emoji. So, it turns out that Nancy's "business" is having fun with her own secretary, eh? I take a screenshot of Derek's post before uploading it to my own social media feed. I even include a smiley as a caption. Immediately, Nancy calls me on the phone and starts berating me. "Derek was just cracking a joke! Why are you being so petty, huh? And here I thought you were mature!" I end the call immediately before texting her, "Let's get a divorce."

My wife, Jana Webster, uses her work at the company as an excuse to skip out on Leah Haynes, our daughter's field day. She even tells us not to participate in the activity. Having noticed how disappointed Leah looks, I decide to take her to the field day myself. As soon as we walk into the school, I spot Jana sitting on the couch located on the stage with her first love, Barton Ritter, as well as his son, Trenton Ritter. They look so close, as though they were an actual family of three. With a microphone in her hand, Jana goes on and on about how she's capable of keeping her family happy while maintaining a successful career. As she speaks, she smiles at Barton from time to time. The audience beneath the stage applauds heartily, giving Jana an ego boost. Even Trenton wears a haughty look. Soon, it's time for the Q&A session. I quickly snatch the microphone over. "Ms. Webster, since when do you have a son? Does your husband know about it?"

When my CEO girlfriend, Lana Piller, learned that I had given the design that took me half a year to complete to her first love, Aiden Connaught, for a competition, she, who had always been afraid of marriage and having children, suddenly agreed to marry me and have children with me. Aiden was pissed off and pretended to have a depressive episode; he picked up sulfuric acid, intending to ruin his own hands. Lana immediately panicked. Not only did she give him my position as the design director, but she also accompanied him to the Arctic to witness the aurora borealis and fulfill his dream. They ate and stayed together all the way, being inseparable. Three months later, Lana casually remarked, "Zac and I have been busy competing and seeking inspiration, unlike you, who has been slacking off at work. Your designs are entirely unoriginal! You’ve run out of ideas. That's why you're envious of his talent." Looking at Lana's increasingly prominent baby bump, I was not angry; I just smiled calmly and continued with the wedding preparations. Lana thought I was still in the dark, laughing and saying she had overcome her mental barrier and could not wait to give me a child. However, she had no idea that the wedding would take place as scheduled, but I had already chosen another bride.

Before the company Ruby Lane and I built finally landed a multimillion-dollar funding, she had agreed that we would get married once the deal closed. But when I rushed to the celebration party that night, I saw Ruby kissing the investor, Jack Hunter, in front of everyone. Then, she proudly held up their marriage certificate. Jack took the microphone and said, "To prove I'm serious, I didn't just invest money into the company, I gave myself too! My wife will lead this company to even greater heights!" My colleagues all looked at me, expecting me to cause a scene. Instead, all I did was smile as I clapped. "That's great news! I wish both of you a happy life from now on and hope that the company goes public soon!" The entire room went into an uproar. After the party, Ruby pulled me aside to explain what happened. "Jack throws money at this project like it's nothing to him. He just wants to know what marriage feels like, that's all. Did you really have to act that childishly just now? "Once the company goes public, I'll divorce him. Then, I'll make it up to you by doubling the amount of shares you'll get. You can see the big picture, right?" I smiled and stepped back. "Don't bother. The share price would have crashed. We're done, Ruby."

We have weird rules set in place in this home. 1. Ethan's opinion is the one that matters the most in all events. 2. If Matthew has any objections, please refer to the first rule. Ethan Moreno is the real heir who has been reunited with the family. I am Matthew Moreno, the fake heir. My adoptive parents claim that they've set up these rules because they are worried that Ethan might not feel at ease when he's home. That's why when Ethan asks to move into my room, I let him have it. When he demands that I give him my scholarship, I give it to him obediently. When he tells me he wants to marry my fiancee, Holly Nottings, I agree to it. Even when Ethan plans on using our family's account to donate ten million dollars to a university in exchange for an exchange student slot, I agree to let him have his way as well. After all, when I refused to give Ethan what he wanted in my previous life, he threatened to commit suicide after he got his sorry ass dumped by Holly. When my adoptive parents found out about it, they strung me up and had me whipped for three days and nights. By the time I was released, I was already reduced to a shriveled-up corpse. When I open my eyes once again, I hear my adoptive father claiming that he'll wire ten million dollars from the family account to Ethan.

To Willa Fowler, I'm not her husband, but rather, a non-performing asset that awaits her handling. When I fall sick and ask her for help, she grows impatient with me. "This is a low-tier problem that you should be dealing with on your own. There's no need to report to me about it." When I burst into tears from an emotional breakdown, she berates me, "If you lose control of your emotions, you'll just show everyone else the vulnerability in our alliance. Next time, I'll have the PR team teach you how to manage your emotions." Even when I call her for help after getting into a car crash, she doesn't hesitate to hang up on me. "Everything concerning you isn't important enough for me to suspend the hundred-billion-dollar transaction I'm performing right now." I spend seven days in the ICU getting my life saved afterward. On the first day of getting home, I witness Willa bending down to gently coax another young man into taking his medication. She opens her mouth in an attempt to explain the situation to me. But I just chuckle bitterly before handing over the paperwork I've already prepared in advance to her. This time, I sound exactly like her. "Ms. Fowler, regarding our marriage project, after a comprehension evaluation, the return on the investment is deemed too low. Therefore, I'd like to officially propose a termination on this project. "This is the divorce agreement. Please leave your signature here."

When I was born, the nurse handed me over to my parents, and the smiles on their faces instantly vanished. Hovering over their son's smooth head was a line of numbers that no one else could see. 6570 days. It was exactly 18 years. Not a day more, not a day less. The nurse thought they were just nervous first-time parents, but my parents knew the truth. That number was my lifespan. While everyone else in the delivery room was celebrating a new life, my parents were staring at my death. For the next 18 years, I was the most precious person in the family. No matter how poor we were, the eggs were always mine, the new clothes were always mine, and the meat was always mine. My younger sister could only look on enviously. My parents often told her, "Let your brother have it. He doesn't have much time left." I was well-behaved from a young age, never causing trouble, quietly waiting to die. On my 18th birthday, I blew out the candles and said a sincere goodbye to the world. The next day, my parents and sister, dressed in black clothes, walked into my room with swollen eyes. I rubbed my eyes, smiled at them, and said, "Good morning." The air froze. The sadness on their faces slowly turned into astonishment, then coldness.

At two in the morning, during a raid, I personally arrested my wife, Carolyn Hewitt, in a rundown motel room. Her neck was covered in hickeys. In handcuffs, she sat beside the bed, trying to comfort her younger brother, who had curled up in the corner, quietly sobbing. "Alex failed his exam and has been feeling terrible. So, I brought him here to relax. Don't get the wrong idea." In the past, I would have already been shouting at her. However, at that moment, I did not even have the strength to expose her lies. I had heard them too many times. "Mark… About this…" My partner nudged me with his elbow, glancing toward the registration form. He was telling me it was up to me how I wanted to handle it. Keeping a cold face, I aimed my body camera toward the foot of the bed. "Handle it by the book. No special treatment." "Mark Russ!" She suddenly struggled against the handcuffs. "What kind of brother-in-law are you? Alex is only 20! If he ends up in jail, his whole life will be ruined!" Her eyes reddened as she spoke, but my expression did not change. I said calmly, "When have you ever treated me like family? Carolyn…let's get a divorce."