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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

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prequel to Honey I’m Home

master list

summary: a peek into the lives of our love birds back in 1985

w/c: 4k

tw: no minors, underage drinking, drug use, party behavior. hinted at: rape

Engine roaring hot with the early dog days of summer, Eddie’s van skids to a stop sliding against black asphalt of Piney Wood Lane.

“Eddie! What the fuck?!” A church mouse voice that resembled nails on a chalkboard shrieks when the van halts to a stop. Peach colored lipstick is smeared in a wavy line across her pale skin, Chrissy glares icy blue daggers into the curly haired metal head.

Stoned and nearly asleep, Eddie forced his tired lips into a grin, pearly whites gleaming against the backdrop of the setting sun through the dirty windshield. “Oh babe you’re so pretty, here let me help.” Grabbing the tube of lipstick Eddie draws a matching line across her other cheek, “all better,” he yawns as she snatches the lipstick tube back and shoves the lid back on slamming it into her purse. Using a dirty t-shirt by her feet that she knew was used to wipe Eddie’s cum off her stomach some time last week after one of his shows, she rotates it to a cleanish spot and works the black cloth gently across her face, muttering to herself.

“Where are these little shits anyway?” She grumbles as she avoids Eddie’s lips on her neck, shoving him away with the heel of her hand.

“Fuck Chris, relax,” Eddie says, arms up in a surrender and lowering slightly to light a cigarette and blowing the smoke into the open warm air through his window, “little Tooty said they have to sneak out of the basement window.”

It had been a full year since Eyeball had left town and graduated without Eddie. His best friend was always smarter than he was, never having to repeat senior year, he left Eddie’s trailer park ass in the dust— never to be heard from again.

A scoff breaks from Chrissy’s pastel pink lips as she swipes more powder blue eyeshadow on her lids in the mirror. “I don’t know what my brother sees in her.”

The high encompassing Eddie falters for a split second. Chad Cunningham? What the fuck would Tooty want to do with him?

“Damn, tell me how you really feel,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes and inhaling from his cigarette, “don’t hold back.”

Chrissy flips the visor up with a thud and crosses her arms, her lips twisted in a sneer, she opens her mouth to speak but Eddie shushes her when five moving figures run across the neatly mowed lawn of the Wheeler’s.

Opening the sliding door is a pimple-faced Mike Wheeler, accompanied by Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Max Mayfield, and you.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Eddie says holding his hands up in protest, “watch the carpet yeah? Won’t be a shaggin’ wagon if the carpet is stomped all to hell you little gremlins.”

“Fuck dude,” Dustin speaks, sliding next to Mike on the floor, “you gonna give us upholstery lessons or are we going to this party?”

Mike and Lucas laugh as Eddie takes off before the door is even shut. Screaming into the night like a bat out of hell. Passing out cigarettes from a crumbled pack you kept in the breast pocket of the same ratty flannel you wore almost daily, everyone leans forward to catch the flame at the same time. Inhaling deep and choking back smoke against baby pink lungs.

Eddie wasn’t your favorite person but if he was one thing: it was reliable. He’d show up in his van, rolling up on the last remnants of weed whenever you called him. Day or night, rain or shine wherever you were— he’d drop whatever he was doing to pick you up.

Like the time Mike had left you at Benny’s after falling asleep in the red cracked booth following a late night movie premiere of Cujo. A quick dial to the Munson trailer, with a worried Benny behind you, after a couple of monotonous dial tones an out of breath Eddie answered grumpily reassuring you he’d be there soon.

Ten minutes later the blaring tunes of DIO were heard faintly as his van roared down the street, foregoing stop signs and swerving all over the place.

Benny raised an eyebrow and gave Eddie a pointed finger grunting: get her home safe.

Eddie greeted you with a stupid smile and deep dimples, threatening Mike’s life and his Hellfire spot for leaving you behind.

“Don’t make this a habit,” he scolded lightly, eyes red and higher than a kite, his boots were untied and his hair was sticking out in every direction, “Eyeball will skin me alive.”

You roll your eyes and put your feet on the dash, “Kev doesn’t even know I’m gone.”

Tapping the brakes Eddie laughs deep when you lunge forward, millimeters from almost smacking your head on your knees. “You know my rule, feet down little T.”

The night was young and you were filled with a naivety that coursed through your veins. With Eyeball at college your parents were rarely home, and you spent every waking minute you could with the boys, Max and El. A group of unruly teens, knobby knees and bad haircuts. The summer was barely at its peak, and you couldn’t wait to live it.

“Alright you little brats,” Eddie joked, pulling into Rick’s driveway, “no humping, no grinding, don’t take anything if you aren’t sure of what it is, and you all owe me $5 for the ride here and supplying you little degenerates with the best weed and warm beer in all of Hawkins.” He goads with a warm smile and jumps out of the van, leaving Chrissy to readjust her hair and makeup for the tenth time in the fifteen minute drive to get out to Lover’s Lake.

Filing out of the van one at a time, everyone slaps an Abe Lincoln into Eddie’s upturned palm. When it’s your turn he quickly closes his hand and you give him an annoyed look.

A look of concern colors his brow as he peers into your face, “Are you seriously dating Chrissy’s brother?”

Turning your lip up in defense, you scowl at the accusation, “so what if I was?” You gonna run and tell Kev about it?”

Eddie didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Eyeball’s fury, having seen for himself how Eyeball could fight the biggest of assholes at the Hideout, and he damn sure as hell didn’t want to see you on that end either. “Nah,” he chides, pocketing the bills into his chain wallet and standing with his hands on his hips, chest out, “what the hell do you think I am some shithead narc? I just didn’t think that you’re old enough to date.”

Snarling a grin and pushing his shoulder you answer sarcastically, “Are you my mother? Stop smoking Munson, you’re turning into a softie.” Traipsing past him you quickly run inside to find your friends, feet crunching on the gravel.

What the hell got into him?

—

The party is buzzing and so are you, two drinks in and a hit from Jonathan’s blunt and you’re dancing with Max, El and Will around the living room.

Tears flood Will’s eyes but he won’t say what’s wrong. Lately when he drank, he always seemed to get a little gloomy and dark. Whatever was bothering you he’d never tell, just going on about how it’s not fair. Only for the next day to claim he didn’t remember.

In a blurring spin from El’s outstretched hand, you can make out Steve Harrington. His tongue was wrapped around some blonde girl’s throat. Hands cupping her ass like she might float away. He wore his sunglasses in the house pretending like he really was fit to be “King”.

King Douche of Hairspray Island

Nancy and Jonathan are whispering close together slow dancing to a song no one can hear but them. Her stylish hair and clothes always fit her like she was straight from a Gap catalog.

Eyeing you, she waves and blows you a kiss. One you pocket and blow back. You’ve come to know Nancy quite well this last school year. Being one of your best friend's older sister’s she was cool and grown up.

Showing Max, El and yourself the proper way to wear makeup without looking like a cheap tramp.

“I don’t care if it is popular, blue is not a shade for anyone’s eyes.” Her makeup lessons earned an eye roll from Max, but you and El took special interest in it.

Collapsing onto the couch after Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ended; Will, Max and El all fall into a fit of giggles, you are breathless and your legs feel like freeze pops before they’re frozen. Being drunk and spinning around wasn’t the best of combinations but it was a blast.

A wayward glance towards the makeshift poker table in the small kitchen has Will wiping his eyes, rushing to the bathroom, excusing himself with a rushed “gotta pee.”

Finishing the last swallows of a lone beer sitting atop the barely standing coffee table, Max tosses the empty can behind her and leans forward, turning her head towards your direction, her eyes squinting into a serious glare, “you really gonna date that weasel dick Chad Cunningham?”

El’s face lights with devilish delight and you roll your eyes. Chad Cunningham was in your grade, and more popular than anyone you hung out with. Exceptionally good at sports and school, he was a dreamboat for any girl to set sail with. A future of wealth and riches lying at your feet. And he had been laying on his advances thick.

Plucking a cigarette from the crumbled pack in your shirt pocket, you offer the redhead a drag after taking a long inhale.

“Jesus,” you breathe through a cloud of smoke, “I swear I’m gonna kill Lucas.”

Max only laughs, poking your ribs with a slight jab of her unpainted fingernail, red from a picked stubborn hangnail, “Lucas couldn’t keep a secret if someone paid him too.”

Lucas and Chad played on the same baseball team, and it was he who said he would put in a good word to you for Chad. Apparently they were talking about more than just batting averages at practice.

Stealing the cigarette from your mouth, Max slots it between her own chapped lips, inhaling and blowing the smoke upwards as she falls back into the couch.

Lighting another cigarette, you listen to Max’s scoffing noises as Eddie runs through the living room, shirt off wearing cutoff denim shorts and boots, a screaming Chrissy over his shoulder as he trots towards the dock. Her high pitched whines are faint as there are two splashes into the lake, one after another.

“We’ve talked on the phone once, maybe twice,” you offer the small information as a gift, waiting for your two best friends to pull the pink satin bow and open it revealing the secret surprise. “Just lucky my mom didn’t get to the phone before I did.”

“No shit,” El hums around a can of Pabst, a wicked smile evident on her lips, “so what did he say?!”

The three of you dive into a giggly drunk conversation about boys, laughing at how awkward they were, how dumb they could be, ending the conversation still unsure whether or not you would give in to Chad’s charm. He was cute after all.

He wasn’t like you, while your family wasn’t poor, Chad’s family was extremely wealthy. They were all matching outfits for family pictures and lately your parents were gone more than they were home. Hushed whispers and teary eyes from your mother.

You didn’t know what was going on, maybe they would be getting a divorce? Maybe you’d be like Max and live in the trailer park after whichever parent decided to stay in Hawkins. Between the choice of living with your mom or dad, you’d rather sleep in a dog kennel.

Of all the girls in the school, Chad had chosen you. The sleepless nights on the phone were nothing but sweet talk. Telling you how pretty you were, calling you honey bun, how he couldn’t get you out of his head. Teasing him and telling him he was crazy, his flirting only deepened. Creating a pocket of desire and questions of what if? burrowed deep into your skin. Warming your heart with each peel of his words cozying inside of it.

He even left flowers on your window sill in the middle of the night so you could wake up to the smell of wildflowers drying in the growing sun of the dewy morning.

He was a charmer. And he’d charmed you right to a fit of heated cheeks and butterfly stomach aches.

When you saw Chrissy’s blonde hair in Eddie’s van you almost expected to see him in the back. Stomach sinking when he wasn’t stuffed into the grungy van.

Last night he made you promise to call when you were done hanging out with your friends. A promise you weren’t sure if you would keep or not.

El slinked from the couch and joined Mike and the rest of the boys playing their drunken hands at poker. Losing every cent of allowance and weeks worth of mowing yards in Hawkins to Steve and a piss drunk Tommy.

Max and Lucas were wrestling on the floor now, his deep skin turning a violent shade of purple only seen on plums from Max having him in a headlock, making him swear to stop calling her Pippy due to her choice of hairstyle.

The scent of murky lake water infused with green algae and harsh whiskey fogged your brain, tiny droplets of water slid down your cheeks, making you question how many beers you actually had. Putting your head on the cushion and looking back revealed Eddie, standing behind you in all his stupidity and brainless head banging to Heaven and Hell. One hand clutched around a bottle of Jack Daniels by the neck, his rings clacking loudly around the glass, the other pinched a fat joint. One wet boot on the back of the couch.

“Trailer Park run out of water again?” you spit, making a show of wiping your face with the back of your hand and sitting farther away from the metal head menace. Kev’s friend or not, Eddie was a special kind of jackass. Loud, ruthless, a real mother fucker, but come hell or high water, he was loyal to his friends. But shit, even an old porch dog is.

Eddie made a voice and chuckled deep, taking a large inhale from the joint, the paper crinkling against the orange burnt end. Blowing big O’s around your face, he merely grins, “you’re too kind to me little T,” he gathers his hair and wrings it out over your head, leaping over the back of the couch landing next to you with a sopping squelch sound of wet denim slapping against polyester, “better ease up on that sweetness or someone might think you’re not made of piss and vinegar.”

Kicking him away from you he only laughs harder ow stop you’re hurting me ow, he breaks out through choked laughs at your attempt to throw him off the couch.

When you have him pinned against the arm rest, your dirty white converse pressed into the slab of graffitied alabaster that makes up his back, he gently grabs your ankle and tosses your feet off of him in a swift throw.

Crossing your arms in a stubborn fashion you deliver one more kick into his side before retreating your legs in a pretzel beneath you, taking the joint from his outstretched hand as a peace offering. Hard to deliver kicks when your feet felt like they were stuck in brownie batter thick mud.

After a few hits, droopy eyes, and Eddie’s dripping curls down his back and onto the woven beige fabric of Rick’s couch, Eddie lets out a loud sigh, taking a pull from the whiskey bottle he still was nursing.

“Thought Eyeball was supposed to come home this summer?”

The question is more of a statement from Eddie as you lazily shrug your shoulders and find intense concentration on the frayed edges of your shorts. Fingers rolling the edges until the fabric is warm and sweaty.

“Dunno, precious Kev hasn’t said much since he went out East, nobody has.”

“Ohh c’mon,” Eddies velvet voice hums deep through his high, eyes barely open, “your rents aren’t that bad.”

Blowing hot breath through your lips you mimic a balloon, giggling at the way your lips feel with each wiggly vibration against your them. “Next. I’m not talking about my feelings with you when you’re higher than Willie fuckin’ Nelson.”

“Rocky Mountain High,” Eddie grins, tipping the neck or the Jack Daniel’s bottle to his lips.

Heckling him you correct, “That’s… John Denver …dumbass— ,” a yawn escapes your mouth, brain functioning on low as the high creeps into your brain, an unannounced nap knocking on your eyelids.

The couch dips with Eddie’s weight as he reaches for a blanket and tosses it to you, “Kid, I don’t know how you and Eyeball are related,” he presses, laughing at the way your eyes heavily blink back at him, “you can’t hang.”

The slowest fuck you rolls of your tongue, the living room fading in your vision you can almost taste the insult rolling around your mouth.

His idle smile falls into a frown, eyebrows pulled inward, eyes looking over your head you train your eyes to follow his gaze.

The noise of Chrissy’s bubbly giggle as she emerges from Rick’s bedroom, catches your attention. She’s wearing a pair of his boxers and a worn heather gray shirt, faded kelly green writing reading, Hawkins Athletic Dept 1980. Her eyes are twinkling with each murmur from Rick’s slack mouth, bent low to her ear, neither of them seeing Eddie sitting on the couch.

Stepping into the low hanging lights in the living room, Rick quickly gestures to Chrissy’s nose and she hastily wipes at it with the back of her hand.

You knew very little of Chrissy other than her family lived on the golf course in a lavish house with a perfectly manicured yard. One boy, one girl, perfect cookie cutter JC Penney catalog assholes.

Last year, you, Dustin and Mike threw three dozen perfectly shaped, white eggs at their front door on Halloween. While Will and Lucas rang the doorbell and Max lit the brown papered sack filled to the brim of Forest Hills Trailer Park’s finest dog shit.

There were wanted ads in the Hawkins Post for weeks about any known whereabouts of the “hoodlums” who defaced private property.

And Joyce Byers stood her ground on not knowing anything when Chief Hopper begrudgingly stomped his way from his police cruiser to the lonely woman’s door. Nevermind her receipt from Bradley’s Big Buys that was identical to what was used in the Halloween crimes of 1984.

It truly was a mystery.

Chrissy didn’t talk to you or any of your friends when you all hung out with Eddie and that was perfectly fine with you, she seemed on edge and would scowl anytime Eddie wasn’t paying her attention or waiting on her hand and foot. At the very least she looked to be in desperate need to fucking relax.

Her wide pupils scan the living room and stop on Eddie. The innocence of Bambi struck the blues in her eyes.

The couch shifts as Eddie stands on firm boots and makes his way to Rick and Chrissy. And before you can crane your neck to hear the conversation, Dustin throws himself down beside you, grabbing the blanket in a yank.

“Pretty sure I’ve figured out the physics of the beer bong,” he says as he flips your legs on his lap.

Before long your eyelids have taken the shape of sandbags and you’re fast asleep. Left on the couch after Dustin’s lengthy explanation of the correct number of breaths taken before the beer bong rendered you to a peaceful dream state.

When you wake by being lightly shaken by a sober-looking Eddie, his warm dark eyes swim with anger and look too wet, and his smile doesn’t match his eyes, “let’s go, kid,” he looks around wildly, on edge, “you’re drunker than a skunk— it’s time to go.”

You’re incoherent as you try to stand, a dizzy spell capturing you in a wave and you feel like you're underwater. Looking around you don’t recognize anyone but Eddie. Rick’s is packed with faces you don’t know.

Not wanting to be there for another second, Eddie grabs your wrist, squats low in front of you and throws your arms around his neck. He wraps the smooth crook of his elbows into the back of your knees, wearing you like a drunk backpack.

A piggy back ride that left your face in the curly, tangled tufts of his drying hair, the tang of weed and lake water stinging your nose as you bury your chin into his shoulder.

A cool blanket is on you when you open your eyes and become a little more alert. You’re in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van, a cigarette hangs limply from his lips as he’s muttering something to himself. It’s dark, and no music is playing. An odd thing for him.

A quick glance around and you see that no one else is with you. A street lamp shines through the windows and you can see Eddie’s knuckles are painted with a deepened glossy red substance.

“Eddie?”

He doesn’t hear you immediately so you repeat his name. His head turns sharp towards you and the blazed look of rage emits from his face. If it were a look from anyone else you’d be terrified. He quickly softens his eyes.

“Everyone’s at Steve’s,” he says quickly, “the kids, Nancy, Jonathan.. we’re heading there—that cool?”

Confused but unable to concentrate a single thought on why the fuck Eddie would be taking you to Steve mop head Harrington’s house, you nod in agreeance. Fighting sleep but losing.

“.. okay okay okay! Explain to me again what the hell happened, I was helping Lucas get Max in my car when it went down.”

“Ouch! Jesus Chr—“

“Sorry!”

“.. they were eyeing her man, all of them! — it was— fuck!”

*glass breaks against a wall*

“Who Chrissy?”

“No, Tooty!”

“Oh my God.. Munson. Who were they?!”

“I don’t know man, I’ve— I’ve never seen them before… fuck this I’m going back there— gonna snap their fucking necks!”

“Stop, this needs to get cleaned or it’ll get infected!”

“Henderson, weren't you sitting by her? Where the hell were you?!.”

“I was Steve! fuck— I just had take a piss, I was gone for like 2 minutes and then I heard the yelling…”

“Christ! Did they touch her?!”

“No,” a tearful voice warbles, “Eddie knocked out that big fucker and the rest of them backed off.”

“I fucking swear to God— Harrington, I will slit their throats if I see them again!”

“I know dude I know, me too.”

“She’s asleep. Max and El are staying with her in the guest room upstairs, I think we should all get some sleep it’s fucking 3 in the morning.”

“Nope, all due respect Wheeler— I can’t.”

“Ed—”

“Fuck! I won’t go back there, alright? But I can’t just lay down and go to bed— not after this..”

The weary eyed stubborn watchdog waits til dawn, aching back from the wall he’s propped up against and bruised knuckles sting with tightness. Flipping the steel end of an old pocket knife open and closed.

Steve stayed up with him for a while, a bat with nails protruding from every which way in a death grip in his fist.

Eddie didn’t think he actually was all that bad, underneath all that hairspray he could tell he’s a genuine person— lost on the surface of money, name brand clothes and expensive cologne.

The two of them made a pact that night that the kids would be protected at all costs, two guardians in the halls for them in high school in the fall. The jock dickheads who crashed Rick’s party amongst them, but the threat behind Eddie’s fist evident in the broken jaw of the football captain behemoth. No longer able to to take the Tigers to a state championship or try to have his way with a younger drunk girl at a party.

Both Eddie and Steve decide that in the morning if you didn’t remember what happened— it would die there, a protective secret amongst new friends.

🧡

see you in volume xi

#honey im home #eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things fanfiction

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phantomwritr · 8 months

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The Road Trip (4/?)

The second part of their journey to Milan mostly passed in silence. “Look, we’re just going to have to try and get through this together. You asked me along, so the least you can do is pretend you actually want this,” Lewis said, without taking his eyes off the road.

“Not by choice,” Max bit out.

“What do you mean, not by choice?”

“My PR-team pretty much forced me into this. And for some reason I don’t understand, Christian helped them. I didn’t want this, but they said if I didn’t convince you, the nicest and kindest driver on the grid, voted unanimously by fans, to come with me on this stupid road trip, my reputation would be fucked. So yes, I’m taking advantage of your perceived kindness. Please kindly drop me off at the nearest gas station so the whole world will know how much we hate each other.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t hate you. I respect you. And honestly I didn’t expect the great Max Verstappen to care about what people think. You always seem to go through life like you don’t give a care in the world—it’s a luxury I could never afford and I envy you for that, but it only motivates me to fight harder to get back in your rear-view mirrors. Or preferably, to see you in mine. If you want to show the world they’re right about us, then fine, I’ll drop you off at the next petrol station. But isn’t it the great strength of champions not to give up when the going gets tough? Isn’t this where champions persevere through sheer grit and determination? Who knows. Perhaps you’ll be surprised.”

Max stared ahead and blinked. “Is this where your whole Still I Rise-shtick comes from? Do you just give everyone who takes advantage of your kindness a pep talk?”

“It’s part of it, yes. But my motto—not a gimmick— is about much more than that. And no, I don’t give everyone a pep talk, but if you think I’m unfamiliar with people taking advantage of me, you don’t know me very well,” Lewis said, the only sign of any frustration being that he gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter.

“Fine, whatever. Let’s just keep this show on the road,” Max acquiesced before going back to staring out the window.

“Glad to see you’ve decided to give it a chance. Want to do another round of those glovebox questions?”

Max shrugged. “Fine, yeah. Uhm, welcome to another round of Glovebox Questions. I guess. Oh, this one’s fun. Can you say three nice things about your travel companion?”

Lewis carefully swerved around someone as he stamped even harder on the gas. “Three?” Max nodded, half turning so he could see the expression on Lewis’ face.

“Well, you’re a great and consistent racer…er…” Lewis tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he racked his brain for something else to say. They nearly swerved onto the lane next to them, but Lewis course-corrected before any harm could befall them or anyone else.

“You’re loyal to your friends and family, which is really admirable…er…one more…” Lewis said as Max arched an eyebrow. “Is it that hard to say something nice about me?”

“It is if you are trying to say something meaningful. I mean, you’re skilled, determined, loyal, good with kids from what I’ve heard. How much more do you want me to stroke your ego?”

Max blanched and Lewis chuckled, his pearl-white teeth shining as he winked at the camera. “That’s…four,” Max said, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “Or six. I forgot to count.”

Silence fell over them like a blanket until Max cleared his throat. “All right, I guess it’s my turn to stroke your ego then.”

“So long as it’s just my ego you’re stroking,” Lewis joked, his lips curling upwards. Max did his best to disguise his chuckle with a cough. “If you want me to be nice to you, you shouldn’t torture me like this.”

“Oh, just shut up and answer the question, Max. Or do you also fail to perform when your engineer tells you a joke?”

Toto wanted to grab Christian by the collar and scream at him as they watched the livestream. Do you see what I mean now?!

#formula one #4433 #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #f1 fanfic #christian horner #toto wolff #f1 rpf #mawis #phantom’s rambles #the road trip #the road trip au #the mawis road trip #hornywolff

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stevenbasic · 2 years

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GITJ Post 258: First Date, p4

She’d seen it in his face, with that first peal of thunder, as they’d been making out in the back seat. And then she saw it again, as they’d each climbed out of the car into the rain, to scramble into the front: the second thunderclap frightened him, just as he was about to get in to the passenger seat.

It made her heart shiver, her thighs twitch, seeing him react like that. “Shhh…it’s okay,” she assured him, “it’s just a big noise.”

“haha yeah…” he laughed nervously.

But another >>crack<< of thunder, just as she was about to put the car in gear and pull out, made him jump in the seat next to her and yelp. “Scary, huh?” she asked, her belly fluttering in even greater arousal. She pulled down the driver’s side sun visor, slid open the mirror and - peering into her own eyes - did a quick manifestation:

Manifest: I am strong, I am strong enough. I am as strong as he needs me to be. I am as strong as he wants me to be. Physically, mentally, and emotionally I am a superwoman. I can carry the weight of this relationship on my strong shoulders.

“Okay let’s go,” she said, the heat between her legs like a wet flame burning up into her, crackling at the back of her throat. Their kissing had lit fires and now she was a woman on a mission: get this boy alone NOW haha.

“Whoah..!” he laughed as she peeled out, tires sliding and skidding into the wet gravel of the lot. He was anxious - no, J, excited…excited - to be alone with her, too. But this storm was freaking him out. “Don’t get us killed, right?”

“I promise!” she promised, as she took off into the street.

During their ride there was lightning, and there was rain. Lots of it. She never considered herself the strongest driver, especially at night, and double-especially with buckets and buckets splashing from the heavens against her windshield and overwhelming the wipers. Still, though, her speed was nearly reckless.

Aside her in the passenger seat he was checking a weather app on his phone. He felt some of the same urgency to get home, back to his apartment with her and the promise of those endless legs, that perfect hair, those lips. He shouldn’t expect much - it was their first date - but his nine-inch erection still bulged uncomfortably as a constant reminder down his thigh. “This storm, is, centered, like…right over us,” he lamented, doing his best not to sound as nervous as he was, “the strongest cells are - haha - right where wey’re headed.” Right over the office. Great. Why was he so freaked out by this storm?

“It’ll be okay,” she assured him again, glancing over at him with a smile as she drove, “You’ve got me. I’ll kiss it all better.” She giggled.

“Oh god…” he groaned aloud, rolling his eyes and making her giggle again.

Seriously, though, she thought to herself as she took a right turn that she’d nearly missed (“ooopsie..!”) What is this? Me imagining him and the thunder and my arms and little forehead kisses and he’s so little and-

What is he doing? she suddenly noticed, Is he looking at my breasts?

His eye level, seated as they were, was at her bare, beautiful shoulder. Both of her arms were out, hands gripping the steering wheel. But he, yes, had let his phone screen fade out as he couldn’t help but stare at - through her white top - how her nipples had visibly swollen up. He was watching the right one, in fact, growing still.

Oh my god!! she exclaimed to herself, nearly bursting out with an overcome laugh, realizing how visible her own excitement had become. “Wh-what are you looking at, sweetie?” she giggled as, with her attention off the road for a second, she swerved a bit in her lane.

“Oh, uh…s-s-sorry…” he apologized, face flushing and hand reaching out to steady himself with the dashboard. He was definitely seat-buckled in, she’d made sure of that. “I, um…”

“I-it’s okay,” she said, even a bit shyly, “Y-you don’t have to just look…you can touch.”

"A-are you sure?” he asked, though his heart was pounding in his throat with the promise of it, “Is that safe while you’re driving?”

“I’m a…I’m a very good driver…” she assured him.

“Okay th-then…oh my god,” he peeped as he tentatively turned in his seat and reached out to touch her, lay his right palm over the gentle nub of nipple pressing itself through the firm fabric of her bra, through her cotton shirt.

She groaned, as soon as she felt him. Warmth coursed into her from her chest, rainbows washed through her vision, causing her to swerve again haha. From all across the city it was like she could hear other girls squeal. “Omigod okay okay…” she laughed, obviously overcome.

He quickly removed his hand, thinking he’d done too much.

Her hand, though, shot out to stop him. “I didn’t tell you to ‘stop’…” she said, in a playful complaint, bringing his hand back to her breast, “just, be gentle.”

Breath shallow, he slowly put his hand over her again. She’d returned both hers to steering, and sighed as his right palm tentatively traced the ample rondure of her huge bust, running his touch lower over her breast and amazing himself at just how small it made his hand look.

“Big, huh?” she asked, not without a touch of pride.

“Oh my god so big…” he repeated, “so beautiful…”

We could pull over right here and I could-

…

Strong, Missy, be strong. Drive.

His hand on the underslope of her right breast now, he found the courage to heft a little, test its weight. “You’re so beautiful,” he repeated again, amazed by her mass, the solidity of her bra below. He looked up at her, saw her teeth clenched. “a-are you okay?” he asked with concern, but this time kept his hand where it was.

“Yeah haha but…” she began, breathless, “...how far away are we?” She wasn’t thinking totally clearly, there was the rain…

“Just like two minutes,” he answered, Heart pounding in his chest. If there had been any doubt in her mind about his fascination with her breasts, it was long gone now. What would she think, what would she do when they were finally alone?

“Okay…keep your hand right there…” she said. It was like she was using the moment as a test, an exercise of her own self-control.

“O-okay…” he agreed, unmoving but feeling once again the weight of her tit in his hand. God…goddamn…

“Once we get there,” she began, in an ask, as she turned onto a new street, feeling her breast shift seismically against his palm, “can I come in?”

“y-yes of course,” he agreed, with sudden visions of her smearing chocolate cake on his face, “we can have the d-desserts…” eating it off him…

“Mmhm,” she acknowledged, with a little giggle, “you want me to just eat everything. You’re just imagining where all of this dessert is going to go, aren’t you? Right to…” At that, she pressed her breast forward, into his hand. “...here.”

”Uhh…” he stumbled, tongue caught in his throat. Holy shit her tit is so huge.

“haha yes I can’t wait,” she said, biting her lower lip and imagining suddenly something other than a Chocolate Triple Bomb Cake in her mouth, “I’ll eat it all up for you…”

Finally In the office parking lot, where he kept his apartment, more thunder immediately exploded as soon as a crack of lightning lit the sky and the lot. They were basically alone. Aside from two other cars - one of the construction guys’ trucks and one other, parked in the distance - theirs was the lone vehicle here, in the deluge. Strange; usually there was construction all through the nights, all weekend. Whatever it was, this storm was right on top of them, and she saw him shudder, his eyes wince. He was obviously trying to be brave, but he looked like a frightened kid. Parked haphazardly near-askew in a fire lane, turning off the engine, she turned to him and put her hand on his knee. “Are you okay?” she asked, with honest concern.

“I’m f-fine,” he replied, with his best macho smile - but then another bolt and blast from the sky made him jump in his seat and squawk.

“You weren’t freaked out like this by the thunder during the rainstorm on the beach at the conference,” she said tenderly, remembering that romantic moment from weeks ago - like she did every moment with him - vividly, “What’s different?”

“I…I dunno…” he answered, non-commital but thinking the exact same thing she was: the world is changing; men are meeker and I’m smaller.

“Remember, I’m here,” she assured him. She looked at him, once again fought back the urge to just jump his little bones right then and there, and gave him a heartwarming smile. “Ready to go up?” she asked, a spark of promise glinting in her eyes.

“S-sure,” he answered, heart thumping.

“Stay right there,” she said, suddenly unclicking her harness and turning to get out of the car.

A bit confused but still in his seat, he watched her slam the door shut, race around the front of the car through the torrential rain, and appear at his door, opening it for him. He undid his seatbelt.

“C’mon!” she said, voice raised so’s not to be drowned out by the storm, “I’m going to carry you!”

“C-carry me??” he asked up at her, a bit shocked but ggghdhdhbfk his cock swelled as without waiting for him to comply she bent, slid her left hand underneath his bottom, her right under his knees.

“Remember how we did this at the conference?” she said, her face now right next to his, temporarily out of the rain and lit up by the cabin light. Her eyes were sparkling; she was gorgeous. “I was pretty drunk…but I do, I remember. I liked it…did you?”

I d-did, he said to himself but could only admit “uhhhh…” to her as she - ohmigod! - lifted him cleanly from the passenger seat, like he weighed no more than a sack of rice. He felt her laugh as the rain began to pelt them both.

She shifted him in her arms, settling him in a cradle and with a bump of her hip the car door was shut. Omigod he’s so light! she marveled, as immediately she began running, laughing again, through the rain to the office’s main door, her adorable little boss in her arms.

“ugh right the construction!!” she wailed, laughing anew as they both realized yes the front doors were sealed. We can’t go in that way! They’d have to go around the side! Run to the side door! Quick haha! She took off, jogging, him jostling in her arms, around the corner of the building.

“Actually the rain feels really good!!” she yelled, suddenly stopping in her tracks halfway down the side path, under a sidewalk lamp on a high post.

“Wh-w-wh-what are you doing??” he sputtered, confused and getting drenched. Anyone watching would see a tall woman in high heels standing there with a small man draped across her arms, tilting her face up into the pouring rain, letting the sky wash over her under the lamp’s silver light, letting nature soak him to the bone.

“Do you feel that???” she sang out, her eyes gleaming in the rain, reflecting the light from above, “It’s amazing!!”

They would see her then lifting him over her head into a press, laughing crazy in a pagan joy, like a priestess with an offering to whatever goddesses had summoned this storm. He had gone helpless in her hands, a limp sacrifice, and for the moment he was more afraid of her than the rain - until a bolt of lightning struck nearby. They would watch the scene light dramatically, see him jolt above her in defenseless terror, look up into the heavens from where he could swear he saw three giant faces - feminine, possibly familiar ones, at that - formed in a circle by the dark, swirling stormclouds themselves, regarding him, mouths agape. Only a weird pareidolia, of course, or an illusion of some new madness, but heightening his acute sense that something the fuck weird was going the fuck on. His eyes must be failing him!

Camera 0012 caught the whole thing.

<<We’ll need that footage>>

“C’mon let’s run!” she yelled to him with a laugh (as if he had any choice haha!), lowering him once again to her bosom and jogging again to the office building’s side entrance.

Sputtering in the rain, confused and frightened (she’d just lifted me like a rag doll over her head!!) but trying to now laugh along with her despite the ignominous position in which he found himself, he watched her, now at the side door. He would have needed a keycard to unlock it, but for her a red light blinked and the lock opened automatically. In a flash they were inside, her still laughing and urgently promising him that “it’s okay!! We’re almost there haha!” as they hurried down the halls, through her office and up the temporary spiral stairs that led to his apartment. They were dripping dripping dripping, puddles on the floor in a path behind them.

In through his apartment door - together they fumbled, getting his key from his jacket pocket - with him still in her arms, they were finally inside and she kicked the door closed with a declamatory >thud<.

They were alone. The small apartment was unlit, the storm keeping the ambient light from the parking lot little more than a miasmic glow. It was her first time in his place, and she surveyed it as she could, her heart thud-thud-thudding in the dark. She thought of finding a light switch, but when a flash of lightning lit the sky outside, brightening the room for a brief, abrupt second and causing him to reflexively curl more into her…she did not rush to turn on the lights.

>CRASH< the thunder was still upon them; he whimpered, and grasped at her body.

Omigod…she breathed deeply to herself and hugging him tighter, omigod omigod…what is going on?? Is this for real?

“Ohhh, sweetie,” she cooed, unable to help herself from using this, her most womanly and maternal of voices, “are you afraid of the big boom-booms?” He would find it emasculating, infantalizing, being spoken to like this but…

‘Boom booms?’ he repeated, to himself, acutely feeling the huge softness of her breasts pressing into his left side. What is going on?? Is this for real?? he thought. He whimpered again, as another flash from outside lit the room. I was never afraid of thunderstorms!! But this one seemed to somehow shake him to his core, in an uncanny, eldritch way, and Melissa’s presence was the only thing that could help make him feel safe. It was her perfume, it was the soft strength of her body, it was her voice.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” she said to him in the dark, as they prepared for the next thunderclap. He needed her! He could not be here by himself! He’d be unable to…to…to even breathe here without her! His inadequacy, his weakness, was such a turn on! Unable to help herself, she shifted him in her arms, tilted his face to her-

>BOOM!< came the thunder. This one, thankfully, nearly ten seconds after the lightning flash. Perhaps the storm was moving on? Still, though, the loud noise startled him anew, and he couldn’t help but curl in closer to her warm, soft, strong body. What had come over him?!? He shouldn’t be doing this with…with her!! He needed to look stronger, like a man!

She, of course, was happy to indulge him, and hugged him closer still. “Awww, are you doing this on purpose, just to get close to me?” she giggled, nestling her big breasts into him, “Get on my good side? Hm?” She leaned in, smooched him on the forehead. “Because it’s working haha!” This was like every girl’s dream these days, and he was being so vulni!

Eyes adapting to the dark, she peered around his apartment, bouncing him gently up and down in her arms, comforting him. There wasn’t much here, just one room, really, a largish studio with a small attached bathroom. He had a small dining table beside a tiny kitchen area. An old couch sat in front of them…and his bed was off to the right.

Not just yet, not just yet, Missy…

She needed…she needed something to distract him, get his mind off this storm for a bit. She peered around and saw, now, something on the floor just inside the doorway. They must have stepped right over it when they entered. It looked like a piece of paper, folded in thirds.

“What’s this?” she chirped, brightly, as she turned to it and began to crouch, “Someone dropped off a letter for you? Why don’t you pick it up, sweetie?”

Another flash of lightning, and then - as he reached out, sliding an arm away from her to grab the piece of paper off the floor as she easily knelt to allow him to reach - an even more distant peal of thunder. He winced, but did not whimper. He still felt a swelling in his pants. That had been happening, with each thunderclap, this whole time.

“It looks like a note, hm?” she confirmed, as she stood and he began to unfold it. Immediately she knew its origin, and her smile curled in wry amusement. “Can you read it? Do you need more light?” The girls had been up here, slipped it under the door.

“n-n-no it’s fine,” he answered. There was maybe just enough light from the parking lot outside to by which to read. Both of them looked at the note:

“Dear Daddy-“ it began, in familiar, girlish handwriting, “hope you enjoyed your date!!!” It was not signed but - oh my god - the lower half of the paper was plastered with what must have been more than a dozen different lipstick prints, kisses of different colors. His wet fingers stained the page at its edges.

“Oh that’s sweet!” Melissa sang, “The girls each gave you a kissy-mark!”

“y-y-yeah…” he answered, feeling suddenly uncomfortable here. What was going on with these women? He was…he was surrounded, and couldn’t find a moment's peace, or keep a shred of dignity.

“The girls are a lot, huh?” she asked, looking down tenderly at him as he fussed with the paper in his hands. She saw his consternation. She knew he was looking at all those kisses, imagining them, well…the image of a little boy in a schoolyard being chased by a pack of laughing girls came to her head. “It may be hard to see, but they really want what’s best for you, they know it’s a tough time,” she continued, “and I do too. Divorces are, like, hard. But, look on the bright side. Now you can finally have what you always wanted, a family. All your girls.”

He had admitted it to her, in the past. How he’d wanted children, though his marriage had been barren. He considered it, what she was suggesting - it was sick, twisted, luridly salacious, but it stirred him. ‘Daddy’, they had called him. It actually made him chuckle dryly, the idea of all these young women, so playful with him, for some reason so interested in him. And there were so many of them! But she, Melissa, was different. She was the one to which his thoughts always came. She was the one who showed up in his dreams, who kept him up at night. He looked up at her, at her beautiful, darkly shadowed face. “‘Daddy’, huh?” he said, thinking of all the girls, “so what does that make you?”

“Haha I guess that makes me Mommy,” she replied, feeling - oooo..! - a rush of warmth in her own heart as she said it.

Just then a thunderbolt jolted him, the paper dropping from his hands in his shock, another stiffening between his legs.

“Shhhh….” she comforted him again, leaning in for another soothing forehead kiss, brushing some wet locks of his hair away with her nose and a giggle. “Let’s get you dried off,” she suggested. He was, seriously, still dripping. “I’m going to put you down for a moment,” she explained, as she gently lowered him to his feet, feeling already the empty space where he once was. He wobbled, feeling unsure on his feet and dreading, suddenly, that there might be another flash, another thunderclap. But he was able to stand and look up at her. This storm had really done a number on him!

“Wait here,” she said and - as if by some maternal intuition - knew exactly where to go to find a towel, the one he’d use after a shower. And though loathe to be away from him for even this long, across those scant yards of the apartment in his spartan little bathroom, she took the second to hold the towel to her face. She breathed in, deep. Ahhhh…it smelled of him.

“Here we go,’ she began, back at his side in a jiffy, covering his sopping head with the towel and scrubbing. She began drying his hair, then more gently his face, behind his ears, cooing affirmations as he stood, acquiescent to her attentions and fucking hard as a rock. She knew her big breasts were right in his face, the white of her shirt plastered wetly to her chest, probably showing off everything. Her black bra was showing plainly through it for sure, and allowing the most firm of wobbles. She probably smelled wet and warm…he was likely under her spell. She knew he was feeling vulnerable, but his wits were coming back as the storm retreated. This was a good time to talk.

“I know I said earlier, at dinner, that I was, like, your ‘mommy-girlfriend’ or whatever,” she began, as she scrubbed at the back of his neck, drying his shoulders, maybe casually aloof but one-hundred percent haha acting the part. “It was sort of a joke. I know I’m not your mommy, or even your girlfriend yet,” she continued, and was actually a bit nervous herself and tried doing her best to make her voice sound earnest, calming and encouraging, “But, do you think this…something, this relationship, could work out between us?”

“Uh, I, um…” he began, caught suddenly in a serious conversation? He was still a bit out of it, stuck on a few words that she’d just said, not the least of which was ‘yet’.

“I feel like,” she continued, seeing she needed to maybe keep the pressure off a touch, help guide him through this, “since we got back from our trip together, we’ve been drifting apart a little. Now, though, I want us to get closer again.” She’d finished scrubbing his head, and had taken his hands into hers with the towel, was drying them. She looked him deep in the eye. “I want us to get very, very close…”

“Uhhh…” he struggled, as the images began to flow through his head. C-c-close..?

“How about you?” she asked, releasing his hands, “Do you want to get closer?” She began to scrub her own hair, which was wet but not the sodden mess his had been, with the bath towel.

He watched, and was entranced by even this, the most mundane of things. Was she actually the most beautiful girl in the world? When she was done, her mane was huge and full, a dark mass of softness in the dim light. He hadn’t said anything. “Hm? What do you think?” she prompted, but saw he was maybe still a bit confused. ”Here, sweetie, let's get you out of those wet clothes.”

She began with his jacket, his new one, the blazer he’d bought for the party and had worn tonight, for their date. She helped him off with it, and laid it carefully over the back of the couch. It was wet, but somehow his button-up shirt below was even wetter. She unbuttoned him, one-by-one, and helped peel it off.

“I noticed you’re not wearing your wedding ring…” she commented, after she’d helped him pull his hands out through his sleeves. He was shirtless, now, bare-chested and shivering.

“I didn’t think you’d like it,” he said, honestly, “and you’re my date tonight, not her.”

nnnNNMMNNNNNGGGHhHSHDJFHPIJKN. She had to stop, to freeze. She’d nearly popped. Relax, Missy.

Though it was dark, he could see plainly how wet and see-through her top really was. He’d taken her moment of speechlessness to comment, truthfully concerned, “Y-you’re all wet, too..”

oh jesus u have no idea. ”Y-yeah…” she said, recovering but now dropping to a crouch on her haunches in her high heels, right in front of him. She knew he was speaking earnestly, not pruriently. But a familiar fire was building in her, and as she saw the huge swelling down his right thigh she nearly gasped. She wouldn’t be surprised to see steam start rising from her own rain-moist skin, the promise of his body fanning her flames. She reached out for his belt, tightened to its limit around his little waist; he’d even punch in some new holes. She felt him balk a bit, suddenly shy and trying to step backwards from her - but she grabbed his belt.

“What's the matter sweetie?” she asked, big eyes up to give him a fake hurt look, pouting her lips as she spoke, “You don't want me to find out how much you like me?”

He wrestled with himself for a brief moment. It was too much, and it was time. “N-no..please…do it…” he surrendered, allowing her to her task. Dutifully Melissa, his new overdeveloped Office Manager, more than ten years his junior and breathtaking beyond belief, undid his belt, undid his pants, unzipped his fly. She pulled his pants down, already seeing his monster cock swollen down his right thigh, proud past the leg of his otherwise over-big boxers. Those she slid down easy, as large as they were on him, and his erection sprang to life between them.

Omigod, it’s true. “You’re so hard…” She’d never seen anything like it. Even in the dark it was beautiful, all nine-plus inches of it. She fought against every fiber in her genetically-perfect being to just grab him by the hips and-

“jesus, M-Melissa…” he moaned, throbbing already, bobbing lewdly, feeling the cool air of the room around him. The predictable embarrassment he’d feel at times like this - I know, it’s huge, I’m sorry… - gripped him. She was so close, and it was as if it could tell.

She was so close. She could grab it, she could throat him. But no, not yet. He might need more. He deserves more. "Would you like me to take off my shirt, sweetie?" she asked plainly.

“omigod yes…” he groaned, looking down her top already at her deep cleavage but imagining…oh god, oh christ…

”Here…why don’t you help…” she encouraged.

His hands instantly moved to comply, awkwardly reaching to her top, where it fell around her shoulders. He began to tug on it, upwards.

Melissa giggled, and brought her hands to his. “Shhh…” she hushed him, her hands coming to rest on his, to stop him, “let me stand up…”

She rose, now, slowly in front of him, her huge bosom nearly brushing his chin on its way up to settle in front of his face. He watched as she did, smelled her perfume.

She felt so much bigger than him, and she wanted him to feel it too, to appreciate it. It was a new urge, a new feminine urge that had gripped her and would not let go. “I’m so much taller than you, Dr. J,” she said, bringing his hands to grasp her shirt at the hem and leave him to start lifting it up with shaky hands, “Do you think you’ll be able to do this?”

“I…I..” he began, feeling every one of the nine inches he’d lost as he started to raise her top. At first, in his meekness, it was just a scant couple of inches more over her already-exposed taut stomach, her defined abs standing out in stark relief in the low light. He couldn’t help but stare, just at her stomach.

He paused. “I-I’m sorry…” he apologized, “I’m a little overwhelmed…”

That made her giggle; plus: that tickled! "It's okay, sweetie. I only want to please you tonight. We can go as slow as you want," she said, surprising herself with the restraint in the words coming from her mouth. For so long she hadn’t let a man even touch her. It had been years, honestly, since she’d been intimate with a guy. And with what’s been going on with her hormones recently she figured she’d be more than anxious to be skin-to-skin with this man, slathering to be just all over someone for whom she felt this undeniable, magnetic attraction, now that they were alone. But with him it was all feeling just so...right. With him she didn’t want to rush. With him, she wanted it to be perfect. He is so safe, she thought, so kind and gentle. And he's so small and...yeah, perfect for me.

I can be strong but c’mon I can’t wait forever haha.

She brought her big hands back over his smaller, trembling ones, and together they slid her shirt slowly upward, heightening the tease. Her tight abs were in full view now, and her shirt rose up to the point where the bottom of her huge black bra appeared along with the - nnnngh holy christ - hint of lower boob, some bulging out voluptuously below her satin cups. She kept the slow pace, her massive breasts coming into view achingly slowly, the dim night and shadows only adding to the drama. As her white shirt rose farther, stretching elastically over her bosom, the naked tops of her full, firm breasts, with their bare smooth, tan-and-creamy skin, were revealed.

He let out a gasp as he realized just how remarkably big her chest was, in start contrast to her thin, waspish waist, and she looked in his eyes, a big smile on her lips as she watched his amazed face.

"Are they big enough for you, hun?" she teased, and she took over from him, finished taking off her top, lifting it over her head as his hands fell away, helpless. Her massive JJ-cups, bigger than his head, suddenly dominated the room.

…it was even smaller on her now. She bulged out not only underneath it but over the cups now too.

She giggled, loving how flummoxed she had him. “This is the same bra, sweetie,” she confirmed, as if reading his thoughts, “But now, we’re totally alone. No one can disturb us.” She smiled down at him, though she could tell he was still reticent, like he felt he was being judged…or watched. “You can touch it…” she offered, watching proudly as he tried to keep himself together, devastated by her figure. She loved - loved loved loved - being able to have this effect on him. After a brief pause, she saw that he’d gathered the strength again, and watched as he tentatively reached up with both hands to cup her massive breasts through her bra, sinking them deep into their sides, supple flesh and firm cups giving some way to his touch.

“You like that I’ve been gaining weight, don’t you?” she asked, a mischief in her smile belying how much she was enjoying teasing him, “You’ve like being able to watch, seeing that nothing fits me quite the same?” The feel of his hands on her was marvelous, and the rapt look on his face was even more wonderful still. She loved being this…overwhelming.

“wh-what size are you now?” he stammered, studying her intently, feeling like he had the chance - she’d just made the comment about her weight gain, her size - to ask what he’d been dying to know.

“Do you mean my bra size, sweetie?” she retorted, her smile becoming even more crooked. Boys and their obsession with these things, she laughed to herself. “Is that what you’re wondering?”

“y-yes…”

She smiled to herself. “How about I tell you,” she began, now moving to clasp her hands behind her back, which pulled her shoulders back and gently pushed her chest forwards, “on our next date?” At that, she began to slowly pivot, back and forth, at the hip, showing off the dramatic curves of her torso as his overmatched hands just held on. She filled his vision, for sure, she was all that he saw. She still wore - along with that black bra, her jeans, and big red heels - an enigmatic little smile. “Will you go out on a second date with me?” she cooed, in an innocent voice, still, “Hmmmm?”

“yesss…please…” he peeped. Her big, shapely breasts seemed ready to burst her bra, and he could not keep his eyes off them. He was now holding on to her chest as if for support.

“Ok…” she continued, “promise?”

“I…I promise…” he breathed, unable to believe, in one quick moment of wonder, the incredulity of it all. How had he got here? Three months ago he was…and now he’s…and this girl…they're talking about…

“A third date?” she giggled, still twisting back and forth, “A fourth?”

How had he got so lucky???

“Oh my gosh yes yes..!” he laughed, making her, perfectly pleased with herself, laugh as well.

“Oh good!” she squealed, suddenly pulling his face into her bosom, squashing his face into her cleavage. His hands, in surprise, shot out to the sides and she heard him utter a little squawk. Haha! “I’m so glad you like me!”

His whole body had stiffened, in shock, and she knew the air he breathed now would be full of her pheromones. Who knew what they’d be doing to him at this point but haha it’d have to be something good! She let him breathe, settle, feel the softness of her big tits around his face as she held him, waited for him to quiet. She lowered her chin to rest on his head, idly stroking his hair. He should be feeling like he’s in his own private heaven by now, she mused, knowing him already all too well. Her lower belly warmed again as another flicker of lightning and then - a bit later - a roll of thunder made him quiver. His cock, his hard, enormous, naked cock, pressed into her thigh through her jeans. She nestled herself around him, so voluptuous that she felt she could nearly surround him - wouldn’t that be amazing! And he would love it! But, she told herself, all in good time. If he thought he was drowning in women now, he had no idea that what he was currently experiencing was just a sprinkling, that he was caught in a little rain shower. He had no clue as to the deluge that was coming. It was going to be a tempest, a monsoon. The clouds were soon going to open and burst and rain down so much woman on the world that…oh my god.

Breaking from her reverie in a flash of revelation, Melissa’s eyes widened, suddenly considering the thunderstorm outside that still surrounded them. Her chin still resting on his head as he wallowed in her boobs, she sniffed the air and it all began to fall into place. How it…the storm…was that..?

She looked across the room. From atop a cabinet, across the little kitchen, a tiny red light blinked. Her eyes narrowed.

Ugh, she thought, yeah right. I forgot.

Suddenly, she didn’t feel quite so alone. Suddenly, nothing felt quite so private. They could be watching. In fact, she could be watching. And the thunderstorm…was it theirs?

She began, slowly, to get angry. She could feel it, she could feel it rising. They were playing with him. Are they trying to play with her? Another bolt of lightning, then thunder, came, exciting her like it had been all evening. She felt it stiffen him, too, making him groan - muffled - into her. Stop it! she thought, as loud as she could, let us have this…this…this time together! Like normal people!!

Another bolt of thunder came, and then another, along with the thrill in her bones and the stiffening at his hips. They knew. They knew she knew, maybe from watching her. They were playing with her! They were!! Ooooooo so mad!!! She’d found herself gripping his head tighter; he’d started to flail a bit.

No. No no no no no. This was not the right mood. She needed to calm herself down.

I am strong, I am strong enough, she said to herself, repeating the mantra from earlier in her mind, I am as strong as he needs me to be. She breathed deep, feeling herself swelling around his face, and felt her anger come under better control.

The thunder began coming faster. Another bolt, then another. Though she felt him shiver, still frightened by the noise, she gently pulled him out from the soft safety of her bosom. She dropped down in front of him to a crouch, his thick, meaty erection now standing proud and bobbing in the air right in front of her face. Every thunderclap just made him harder; she could watch it happen, see his manhood, his turgid sac, swell bigger with each new >>crack<<. The poor thing!! What are they doing to him?? They were obviously redoubling their efforts. She bit her bottom lip, struggling against so many deep-seated instincts, to just let it happen. God how she wanted to just take it right there into her big welcoming throat as he collapsed on top of her, draping his weak little body over her bigger, stronger one as she gave him relief. She could fucking consume him, right here…but that’d be exactly what they wanted. They’d be watching every second. She would see.

I am strong enough.

She leaned in and smelled him, making him groan as she felt his hands come to rest on her head. He wanted this too! He smelled yes amazing but she could also smell that other, familiar, smoky scent that brought back memories of her childhood - they called it brimstone.

He’s mine! she thought aloud, You can’t have him!

She breathed in again, using his scent to steel herself, make herself stronger. Being with him gave her strength.

I am as strong as he needs me to be, as he wants me to be, she repeated, mentally, emotionally and physically.

But he’s so hard, tho! she thought as she watched his cock throb and swell, thick veins pulsing around a shaft so stiff and dark with blood it looked like it might burst. I did this to him! I can't leave him like this! She will satisfy her man! But, she resolved herself, she will not do it their way. She’ll do it her way. She’ll show them how strong she is, with that little red light as her witness. They’ll soon see: being with him makes her stronger.

She’s changing into what he needs, she’d realized, long ago. And now he needs her strong - to resist, and to protect. There are so many of us, and we're getting so big, she knew, He needs me strong.

Almost to herself, but looking at him, she spoke quietly. “You want me strong?” she said, “Watch how strong I can get…”

At that, she reached out to grab his hips, each hand taking one side of his thin pelvis, tenderly but firmly. His bones felt so thin in her hands, and she knew suddenly for sure that she could do this, that she was strong enough. Still staring at his engorged, expectant cock, she readied herself, and began to rise.

He gasped as, slowly, Melissa began to stand. She had his hips in her hands and she began to stand, taking him with her. As if he weighed nothing, she slowly lifted him, his feet leaving the ground, her face mere inches away from his hard, throbbing cock, staring at it. She rose, and rose, coming gradually to her feet, to stand with him in her grasp and holding him by the hips a full three feet off the ground. The camera, she made sure, could see it all.

“M-M-Melissa..?” he peeped, overcome with shock. How could she be this strong!?!

Only then did her eyes leave his penis, and rise to meet his. She saw the terrified look in his eyes as the realization came to him, as the impact of it hit. He was coming to grips, quickly, of just what this woman could do, that this bombshell of a girl, his new Office Manager and budding romantic partner was also a fucking superwoman, strong beyond belief. She saw the bolt of comprehension finally hit him, and it made her smile.

I am a superwoman, she told herself, I can carry the weight of this relationship on my strong shoulders.

Though it still blasted away in earnest, she had stopped even seeing the arcane lightning, he had stopped hearing the thunder. To the two of them everything in the universe was now just what existed in their locked gazes. For herself, she was amazed at how easily she had lifted him. She knew she’d been getting stronger, in spades recently, at Evolution’s testing facility and at the gym by herself, but she’d had no idea she could do something like this, lift a full-grown man like he was a rag doll, hold him up like he was a toy with just her hands. Like he weighed nothing. Hahahaha it felt amazing, and her eyes widened in excitement and her smile grew to a grin as she slowly stretched out her arms to full-length, and raised him higher.

“M-M-Melissa!” he croaked, and reflexively put his hands above himself. Luckily, the ceilings in his apartment were high, but the ceiling quickly approached and he was worried he’d hit his head. But then she shifted, turning, and began to walk, and he grabbed onto her forearms for support.

She was headed for his bed.

“I didn’t want you to trip,” she smiled, eyes still looking up into his as his pants and boxers hung awkwardly, still around his feet, “Can’t have you fall and hurt yourself…” Though his fear was belied in his voice, she saw it did nothing to make him any less hard. In fact…part of her thought he kinda liked this.

She reached the edge of his bed, a small little thing against the wall with a thin mattress, thin sheets, a thin blanket. Still she held him, though, high above her head, looking up, watching his face and every little movement it made.

“I could put you down, now,” she said, her smile mischievous as he hovered over the bed’s edge, “or I could keep holding you, if you’d like?” Lightning flashed, thunder pealed in ever-quickening bursts. The eldritch storm was once again right over them, right on the office building but more impotent to them both. They had, now, each other. “Do you want me to keep carrying you?”

“uh…uhh…uh…” was all he could manage, still overcome by the experience of being held like a weightless nothing in the hands of a beautiful, obviously insanely strong young woman. It was, he’d realized already, an incredible sensation, somehow liberating in its display of power. She could do anything she wanted with him, he was a weakling next to her, it was made plain to see. Being in her grasp like this was darkly exciting, and he was tempted to ask her to carry him around the apartment like a plaything…but the promise of the bed was below him. “I…I think you should put me down,” he finally said, out of both arousal and fear.

Giggling, she obeyed, and lowered him gently to sit naked on the edge of his bed. She took a step forward, and kneeled at his bedside, tenderly spreading his scrawny legs apart at the knees so she could sit between them. His shaft bobbed and twitched in the air between them. She sat up as straight as she could, chest forward in her overmatched black bra. With Melissa on her knees, him sitting on the bed, her eyes were still a bit above his. Her heart fluttered, seeing that his feet didn’t even hit the ground, and that she had him, her boss of these past couple months, totally naked in front of her.

“Look at me, Dr J,” she said, her gaze unbroken from his though his eyes darted around, like those of a confused animal. As ready for her as he obviously was, this was a lot for him, she knew, and it was her job to make him comfortable. She took his chin into her right hand, and his eyes found hers. They looked at one another, through the darkness, his over-huge member wagging silently below, desperate for attention. Thunder and lightning tried to bend them both to its will. But I’ll do this in my own way, in my own time. I’m strong enough.

Melissa felt her strength manifesting itself as being able to stop herself from doing exactly what she’d been genetically programmed to do, mindlessly maul his little body in passion, into submission. Even in the face of this unnatural storm, which was playing with both of their levels of arousal, she could be strong enough to resist her deepest instincts. She knew he’d let her, too, knew she could do it. He’d let her push him onto the bed and spread his little legs and do anything she wanted with him. She could break him, tonight, from here on out wear his little heart around her neck, nestled between her breasts like a pendant, a trophy. Play with him like a brainless little toy, slave to her pheromones. She could have his dignity, make him a little simp to her every whim. Enslave him to the cause.

But normal girls don’t do that. Relationships that last don’t start off that way, under the watchful cameras of huge, shadowy multinational corporations. That’s not how good girlfriends behave. She could be strong enough to resist these urges. She could get him to like her, for real.

“Melissa, I…I’m feeling a little overwhelmed…” he said, obviously feeling the effects of the storm, the weight of these past two months on his shoulders. He was staring into the green-and-gold eyes of the very mainspring of all his troubles, this young woman, the very reason why he’d made all these bad decisions, sacrificed so much: his marriage, his career, his integrity.

“I know you are, sweetie,” she said, tenderly, now holding his face with both hands in the most compassionate way, staring into his eyes. She tried to read him, but she was still learning, figuring out all his little idiosyncrasies. “What is it? What are you thinking about?” she asked.

That gave him pause. He, of course, couldn’t admit to the primary thought on his mind - getting her to touch him, kiss him again. But what was keeping him from acting on those impulses? He was also thinking about…well…his mind was a mess. “N-nothing,” he eventually replied, casting his eye away again.

“Care to…elaborate?” she chuckled, “You know, explain?” Her left hand reached down and poked him, in a little tickle, in the belly.

“Heyy…!” he laughed, doubling over a bit and eyes goggling as - closer, now, to her massive boobs - he watched them jiggle in her own mirth. He sat up, thankful for the dim light and how it was hopefully hiding his blush. Yes, she was right. He figured he had to say…something. He needed to be honest about how he, y’know…felt. “Ah… Melisssa. We’re just so…different,” he began, cringing a little; he was just not good at this touchy-feely stuff, expressing his emotions, trying to put the vast differences in their backgrounds, their educations, let alone their ages into words, “Is this…really going to work out between us?”

“We are, we are different,” she admitted, looking down at him, brushing three fingers over her cleavage, to bring his attention back. She knew exactly what he was saying. “But…when you strip the differences away, it gets easier. I’m still just a woman, you’re still just a guy. A guy I happen to like…a lot,” she said, “Do you…like me?”

”Yes,” he answered, his voice quavering, fighting to keep eye contact again as her left hand still lightly caressed the bare skin of her bosomy chest, “I do.”

“I like you, you like me,” she said, smiling patiently, warmly, “That’s a good start.”

“Y-yeah,” he admitted, still incredulous that he was here, naked, talking about a relationship with this towering twentysomething. Huge soft hair, long elegant neck, arresting eyes and a jaw-dropping figure. She was gorgeous! Why would she be interested in him?!?

“Sometimes,” she sighed, her breath ruffling up his hair and followed by her fingers, as the hand on his face creeped back behind his head, “We gotta go on feelings, ‘cause it’s all we’ve got. Maybe we should just let go and enjoy the moments as they come, huh?” She began caressing his scalp through his thick hair.

“o-okay,” he acceded. He’d stopped hearing the thunder, could only hear her voice.

“Like, what do you want to do right now?” she asked, pausing, considering her options. “How about…this..?” At that, she slowly drew in a deep breath, pulled back her shoulders. Immediately his eyes fell to her breasts. “Something like this, just looking at me…that can relax you.” The one hand still behind his head insured he was staring into cleavage, while the fingers of her left hand rested on her breast, alighting aside the deep, warm cleft that separated them. “All that stress, all those thoughts and worries, they have to go somewhere…” she began to whisper, “let them go here…between them…”

He watched as one finger slowly slid between her breasts, separating them a fraction before being engulfed and lost to view. She slid it in, and then slowly out, lazily. And then back in again.

She smiled, watching him become completely enrapt with this, the simplest of movements from her. His jaw was actually gaping. She could warp his mind with her perfumes, make him do whatever she wanted; she knew that. But maybe, instead, she could just show him how it could be, not just make it so, force it. That way, he could come to her on his own time, on his own terms. He might retain some of his dignity, that way.

He’d like that.

Though she’d promised herself she’d never use them on him, Melissa had already begun to allow her “love” pheromones to slowly eeke from her chest, to emanate from her skin. She knew there was a term for them, some psychologolical (was that the word?) word for what they could do, but she didn’t want to change him with them, didn’t want to have to artificially create this relationship herself. That would feel…wrong. But, she thought, if she could just put her feelings into them (and she had lots of those lol!), into the powerful perfumes that could come from her body, maybe she could just show him what it could be like, how she could make him feel. It was kind of like her own personal love spell haha, but just a preview!

She watched as his face began to change, his expression began to soften, as she gently continued to release herself into the air and slowly slid her fingers - two this time - in and out of her cleavage again. See? she thought, He doesn’t have to be afraid of me, like they want. I can get him to love me instead, like I want.

He’d begun to make little noises. Omigod so cute! she marveled, overcome with her own attraction to even the littlest idiosyncrasies of his, like his little whines and whimpers, I still like to play with him tho! “You like looking at my breasts, hm?” she asked kindly, “Putting all those bad thoughts away, watching them disappear between them?”

“yesss...” he murmured, hypnotized. His voice shook, his body was beginning to tremble.

It almost brought her to gasp, a little bit, hearing how excited he now sounded. Ooo what..what was happening? She glanced down, quickly, at his throbbing erection. It stood stock still stiff and was - omigosh! - almost vibrating in the charged space between them. He was so turned on!! And..it looked…

“They’re big, and if you need I’ll just keep them getting bigger,” she said, an aroused husk deepening her voice, pressing on. She was surprising herself with her own boldness, here, but she knew it was her that was doing this to him, not them. “I want them to be big enough to hold all your feelings, Dr. J, good and bad,” she continued, thinking she might be able to…with just her voice…“I want my breasts to get enormous for you, if that’s what you need…”

“oh godddd…” he moaned, and he saw her watch his hips start to shake, his tight abdominals start to clench. Flooding through his mind were visions, feelings, emotions. Could this actually be the beginning of something between him and this…this…this fantasy woman?? What was she saying?? She was making him feel so…so good! What would more times alone bring? Could he feel like this…forever?

It did seem…she wasn’t even touching him but he looked like he was…

“Dr. J are you about to..?” she asked.

“y-y-yesss…” he groaned, obviously overcome and unable to control what was about to occur with his body. His eyes were plastered on her tits, he was imagining a life spent beneath them.

“Do it..” she breathed, suddenly excited herself and leaning in closer and letting a thick new wave of her pheromones out onto him. “Come for me,” she said, “come for me sweetie…”

“nnnnnnNNNNGGGHH…!” he moaned, his body spasming, his hips jerking as, unbidden, his cock erupted. Naked, standing tall, it shot its first load nearly three feet skyward. Then again, and again, it jerked, his loins and sac clenched as he emptied himself into the air. “oh m-…oh my god…!” What was happening?!?

“Oh yes…oh yes Dr J!!” she crowed, amazed at the sight, amazed at the moment, amazed at her abilities to do what she had just done. She’d made a man come - with just her voice! FFFfffuck it made her feel so…powerful! “Come on, yes, come for me..!” she urged him, “come - more! More!” She was being gripped in an ecstasy of her own, something strong that lit her fires deep. Oh my godddd… It was coming quick…she might…she might…

Girls everywhere began to sweat, to heat, sit up straight and grew quiet. Sounds around them disappeared.

As if on command, he was hit with another wave of orgasm and he grunted anew. He stared down now at his pulsing, throbbing, still erupting erection and - instead of feeling bad, like a teenage premature ejaculator - felt proud, proud of his undeniable virility. Look at this thing! It was enormous, powerful, and Melissa seemed in awe. And, she didn’t seem upset at all that he came so quickly. She was excited that he was in love with her body’s power and her seemingly endless curves.

“Oh yes, oh yes, good boy..!” she caught herself saying, bringing yet another whine from him, “Keep going! Keep coming, get it all…out!” Her own body was quivering…quivering…and, yes, yes! Suddenly Nnnnnnnnnhhhh…! A small climax of her own, from pure excitement, without the touch of another, shivered through her body.

Girls everywhere felt it. Girls everywhere moaned.

Nnnngh…nnngh…nghh…Yes! he growled to himself, and could feel the power of her voice, like it was squeezing his cock from shaft to tip, milking him. It felt amazing but oh my god what the fuck?!? She’d just…she’d just said ‘good boy’ and nnnnnGGGHHHhhhh….!!!! He was rapt as she continued to coo to him, continued to urge him, continued to fill his world with her voice. It was…it was like hands, her hands, finishing him, coddling him, comforting him with pleasure. “Good boy, Dr. J…yes…yes, good boy..!”

They both stared, they both breathed, and as his orgasm slowly changed from a storm to a drizzle, the rolls of thunder around them faded to a flicker, the lighting became quiet. She purred, she cooed, his climax drifting silent. His come had - holy shit - covered her breasts, and they both now watched its pearly goo dribble down her slopes, into her cleavage. He gasped, finally able to draw a real breath, struggling to weigh out what had just happened. Had he been that turned on?? That he came with…with…with just her talking to him?!?

Melissa, for herself, was swimming in pleasure. This was both a final culmination of everything and the first step of something. It was so, so, so so so so so exciting!!!!

Girls everywhere had begun to laugh.

“Oh my God, Dr J! That was so wonderful!” she sang. She was still shaking, and her enthusiastic exhilaration clipped his budding embarrassment. This was less a premature ejaculation and more a…a demonstration. This is what it can be like, she thought to him, this is what I can do. She hoped the camera caught the whole thing.

This is what this girl can do to me? he marveled at the same time, watching as his cock began to fall and beginning to feel - whoah, wow - an intense tiredness overtake him, A-and this is just our first date..!? ”Melissa…h-how did you..?” he was able to ask, even as he began to slump, to his left, head leaning towards his pillow.

”Shhhh…shhhh, sweetie. Don’t think too much…” she whispered as her right hand moved to support him, so he didn’t fall too quickly, all as she tenderly leaned towards him and slowly slid fingers of her other hand, now, through the gooey mess on her chest, “Just know that it’s just the first step into something beautiful…”

His eyes began to close as he watched her scoop, and slowly bring her fingers to her mouth.

======================================

the story, continued, at my Patreon

#growing into the job

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storee-stories · 7 months

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Road Trip to Nowhere

This is a spiel about my journey through school as a gifted kid turned ‘failure’.

For context, in The Land Down Under (Australia), you need to rack up hours of logged driving to get off your learner’s permit where a person with a full licence must accompany you every time you drive. Whenever I mention “hours”, I mean getting logged time to be able to get to do the driving test!

TW: mentions of car crashes, near misses, etc. Nothing graphic (although there’s one part that was a punch in the face to reread after forgetting about this for 2 years lol)

Unedited, lazy, old work… idk just read it. If it makes sense it makes sense ig whatever

I feel like I’m on a road trip.

Driving through life, changing speeds, turning corners

People I’ve met along the way in the back seats, screaming, laughing, conversing

Enjoying themselves while I keep my eyes on the road

I feel like I’m on a road trip

Making sure everyone in the back seats stay happy and content while I drive

Never taking my eyes off of what’s far in front of me

Looking for all the things my parents taught me when I was learning

“Keep your eyes on the peripherals, just in case something happens”

“Don’t worry, you’re going to have an accident eventually. It won’t be too bad, I’m sure”

“Keep your speed up, you’re doing so well, keep going!”

“Just keep going, we’re almost there, then we’ll all be happy, and you will too!”

I feel like I’m on a road trip

Where every shoulder has glass, providing only a small path that I can go

Where every pothole or piece of debris feels like the end of the world for the car and the people in the back

Where every passing car seems to be heading in the right direction, not my direction

I feel like I’m on a road trip

With my eyes, black dabbed beneath them, slowly starting to close, exhaustion breaking in

“Are you ok?”

“They’re fine! We’re almost there, right? How much further?”

“Only a few more kilometers,” my parents say, “then we turn left for the next leg. You’ll make it, right?”

“Um, I’m not sure… I’m getting tired-”

“But that’s such a large portion of hours wasted! You’ll be fine, you just gotta keep going. We believe in you, you haven’t struggled before!”

The kilometers drag on. Most people have gotten off at different places, now only certain people remain. Usually adults.

I keep pushing through, keeping every yawn, every anxious tear, down as to not make my parents upset.

I’m supposed to be able to get through it, right? They didn’t care when I said I was tired last time, why would they now?

With a white-knuckled grip, and wide eyes, I forced myself to keep driving

I feel like I’m on a road trip

That I’ve been driving on for too long,

My attention beginning to slip, and periods of time go unnoticed and irrecoverable to my mind

I stopped remembering how long I had been driving, like I had logged out

I liked logging out, it made it easier to bear the strain and exhaustion I was carrying

The problem came when I logged back on

“What are you doing, get back in your lane!” My mother screamed

I swerved to avoid a massive truck that narrowly missed us. When had I gone over the line?

“What was that? You can’t let that happen again, you nearly got us hurt, I’m so scared!”

“Sorry…”

“Sorry isn’t good enough, you say it all the time. Just don’t do it again. You usually never do stuff like that, get it together!” My father said

I feel like I’m on a road trip

Seemingly never ending, to get to one destination, and then inevitably come back

It’s really no wonder I feel so tired, and why I’m struggling. Avoiding those potholes and that debris on the road used all my energy in the first part of the journey, and because I’ve had no rest, I’ve lost focus and become more complacent.

But because my parents are constantly hovering over me, expecting me to do my best all the time, and not suspecting something else is causing these lapses, I’m not willing to admit something is wrong and I need to stop.

Because they won’t approve.

I feel like I’m on a road trip

Where all the trees and flowers fly swiftly past

Where the black bitumen stretches for miles

Where my eyes struggle to stay focussed in the dark night

A road trip where I’ve been driving for too long

Ignoring the “Take a Break” signs posted on the sides of the road

Where I’m slowly losing control

Where I’m slowly losing consciousness

“I was on a road trip,” I say, tears constricting my throat.

“And I think I fell asleep. I woke up to the sound of fire crackling and someone screaming for me to get out…”

“Why didn’t you take a break from driving? A learner should know their limits.”

“I wasn’t allowed to.”

“Who said you weren’t allowed to?”

“…my parents.”

“So you didn’t stop to take a much needed rest, just because your parents said you didn’t need to?”

“…yes.” It sounds stupid. So stupid. From an outside perspective, it looks ridiculous. Allowing your parents to put your life and their life on the line for some hours of driving?

“Kid, do you know who was in the other car?”

“Huh?”

“The other car,” said the man, “the one over there?”

He pointed to a wrecked suv, on it’s side, fluids, glass and metal strewn everywhere. Pieces that had been cut laid next to it.

“No…”

“There was a family of 4 in there. A child, a teenager, and two parents.”

I just stared. It didn’t seem real.

“Only 2 survived, a child and the father.”

I just stood there. No tears, no overwhelming fear… I feel tired.

“The child, the teen, and the mother. You know them, correct?”

I feel tired. “Yes.”

“Well, now you don’t”

I turned to him, caught off guard. He had already left, though.

He was walking away, towards the countless lights and sirens bouncing around the road.

I feel like I’m on a road trip

Gone horribly wrong

I looked around.

I feel like I should be searching for something, something important

Nothing comes to mind immediately.

“I wonder how Banjo is right now.”

I don’t know why my mind went to the golden scruff of our dog

Rather than my mother

Or my father

Or my friends

Or the other family

But it did

“He probably misses us.”

He doesn’t know any better

I think that’s why

Why my brain went to him rather than the people I hurt

Because, unlike the people around me

Banjo was the only one that hadn’t hurt someone

He’s the only soul that held absolutely no hate

He had done nothing in his short life to make anyone upset

Happiness following the clinking of his collar and tag

Unlike the people of the other car

And my car

My car had people who had uttered words that forever dented and scratched someone’s soul

Most of those words were towards me

And if not me, people around me

People, who I used my torn skin to stretch, and protect them with

I had even protected them from each other, in some cases

My car was filled with so much hate

Hate and ill will towards anyone

Of course I could assume the other car had hurt carried inside it, too

I knew them, after all

And, while it’s cruel, maybe the crash wasn’t too bad for them after all

I feel like I was on a road trip

Steered by my parents to result in failure

Which I was blamed for

Because I was naive enough,

as a child with adult responsibilities,

To listen to them and not force my boundaries

“I was on a road trip”

I reiterate to the hundredth person

“I was travelling, I fell asleep, we crashed.

“I understand that it was ridiculous of me to continue driving while tired but you have to understand-“

“We understand enough” they say

Their eyes glistened with hatred pointed at me

And sadness pointed within

“We’ll let you get some rest, which you obviously need, and we’ll continue tomorrow”

They treat me like a child

Obviously guilty for something silly

Except that silly thing

Ruined lives

And somehow

It’s my fault

For the failure of my guides

#writing #school #gifted kid burnout #gifted kid syndrome #gifted kid things #gifted kid problems #gifted kid turned failure #academic validation #academic failure #low effort

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mamamittens · 5 months

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Should be asleep, you know what that means!

Side note before the tangent for my OC for serotonin and rubber ducking, got the sketch done for my next December event piece. And work is almost optimistic about letting us out at a normal time again. We'll see if that holds... Tuesday traffic is the worst. Saw someone once peel onto the main street from a side road across the two lanes going the other direction to wildly swerve into the proper side of traffic, nearly run into the green covered median with a tree, wildly swerve and nearly hit a car, only to settle down in the far left lane line they didn't go about 20 miles too fast for that shit.... Thankfully traffic was light at the time and barely anyone on that particular road, but still!

Okay, so here's a hilarious fun fact about myself.

I'm actually quite scared of heights. Like, unimpeded heights get to me. I need solid walls and minimal contact with a window to feel comfy and looking down still wigs me out. And my fear response is actually freeze except under very specific conditions (if I know someone is fucking with me, that freeze turns into burning hate and I either explode or freeze to keep from catching a charge). I remember being on the... Lily pads??? In a water park and getting scared halfway and the guards having to help me get down cause I was in tears despite thinking I could handle it. Also nearly drowned in the wave pool cause I was dumb enough to park right under the guard chair near the end where the waves were biggest and was exhausted by the time it calmed down... Anyway!

Point being, it would be interesting to put that into a character. I often see fear presented in running away, misdirection, or pondering. Rarely do I get to see a character be afraid and emotional about it in a complicated way. Usually because I acknowledge that from an outside perspective it's really annoying if you're not invested in that fear. Like, do we really have time for the theatrics? Get over it already???

Where was I going with this??? Oh! Flying!

I thought it would be interesting to have Nikia fear heights! Being pretty timid in general, actually. Scared to take risks. So when she realizes her wings are growing so much so that she could fly shes so excited at first! But then when she goes to the updraft area to practice she's frozen. She can't move. She knows in theory she should be fine, even without her wings being big enough for independent flight, but it's still scary as hell.

So she chickens out and goes home incredibly upset. Possibly for days, barely eating because she just can't do it even though she really wants to. Ashamed, embarrassed, and angry at herself. Maybe it leads to a bonding moment with her pirate dad over fear and risks. Reassuring her and getting a glider to fly with her so she's not alone. And going back every time until she finally says it's okay if he stays behind.

He'd go in secret anyway, so damn proud that she's doing it despite being scared still. He'd likely drill flight and escape plans into her, aware that she's not totally safe from harm up there. Including the inspiration for her favorite takeout move of pretending to get hit, spinning 'out of control' and using it to take a pot shot at her attacker.

His crew would likely also teach her how to defend herself with something a little more personal. Haven't decided what exactly, but I like the idea of something that doesn't appear to be deadly or aggressive. Defensive in nature like a staff or fans. Something she can fidget with and carry easily. Possibly childish in nature due to reasons that I'll get into later. She may still have knives and a spare revolver on her person but that's more of a 'i need a permanent solution' type of deal. Her wings can also work in a pinch but she's reluctant to use them primarily because it's so hard to treat injuries on her wings due to their size. Does mean they hit very hard though.

Now, she really hates sparing because she doesn't believe in hurting people she loves. Sparing goes against that really hard because to learn you need to go all out at least at first. And it's just too anxiety inducing until someone suggests she treats it like a game. So she never gets worked up (she's slightly competitive despite trying not to be a sore loser whoops) to take it too far and finds her customer service voice creepy. Really comes off as sadistic, ngl

#mittens rambles #one piece oc #back on my bullshit

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candycov3redros3s · 1 year

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Just got home from Cali about an hour ago. I ran into some rain on the way back so my windshield got cleaned again... also had someone nearly run me off the road.

So there's 4 lanes. The right lane, two middle, and the left lane. I was in the second middle lane when this dummy is merging from the left lane into my lane, but literally RIGHT. NEXT. TO. MY. CAR. Like they're merging into my car. I laid on the horn, but they kept merging, and my first instinct was swerving into the other middle lane. But then I realized I was probably cutting someone off and was lucky I didn't side swipe someone else, so I just fell back and continued honking at this moron who just kept merging like nothing was happening.

Scared the bejesus out of me!

But other than that, I made it home safe, meal prepped a quick meal for lunch this week, and now I'm ready for bed.

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samayla · 2 years

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I nearly got into a car accident last night driving my little brother home from town, and I'm still pissed about it.

This lady pulled into the roundabout I was already in, without looking up to see if anyone was coming. I watched her not look up. She slowed down for the yield and then just kept on going. There was another car in the inner lane next to me, just slightly behind. They saw my brake lights and reacted quick enough to avoid hitting her, while I resisted the urge to swerve into them. The car behind me -- following too close, too fast -- nearly rear-ended me and shoved me into her anyway because there were only inches to spare in either direction. Then she sat there, blocking both lanes of traffic, and looked at me like I was stupid, like the half-panicked, half-pissed-off look on my face was entirely unreasonable and how dare I make her stop?

Guys, there was a car wreck a few weeks ago, not a mile down the road, that killed one of my students. I had my little brother in the car with me last night. I was responsible for him. He could have been hurt. People in two other vehicles could have been hurt. What if they had kids along? All because she couldn't be bothered to look up before entering an intersection.

My old school bus driver - he drove me home on my first day of kindergarten, then drove the noon bus for the preschool class I worked with a few years ago - he taught me a lesson that saved my butt last night. Look at the driver. The car is big and flashy, but the car isn't the one calling the shots. Look at the driver. Every time. Are they looking at you?

#tw: death #tw: car accident #kate whines #but not really.#I'm just pissed

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hifilounge · 7 months

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Historic Sports Car Club Finals Weekend Race Report!

Hi Everyone,

I couldn’t resist one last run out in our 1961 Lotus Formula Junior before the season ends for the winter so I entered the Historic Sports Car Clubs ‘The Finals’ weekend, mainly as I wanted to give the car one more shakedown after its restoration and get some more seat time before we embark on a full season next year.

Friday Testing

I’d done loads of laps on the sim in preparation for taking the Junior round the Silverstone National layout and it really does help get you up to speed quicker, and to be honest it was just as well I did as the weather was so bad on the Friday that we only got one dry 30 minute session, which had 3 red flags in it, so in the end we did around 20 minute of dry practice but even with just that I still learnt a lot, basically I need to figure out what gear to be in at Becketts as with these older cars you really need to drive them, you can’t rely on the power to get you through corners, you have to be in the right gear which keeps you in the 6-9k rev sweet spot or the engine just splutters along, so after the Friday session I went back home and did more testing on the sim as the next session will be Qualifying tomorrow.

Saturday – Qualifying and Race 1

As I said this weekend was all about ironing out any problems before next season and it turns out we had a couple to deal with, firstly we didn’t actually get to qualify as our car failed the noise test, luckily the guys from Road to Race who are running the car had a silencer in their van but we didn’t have time to fit it to get out for Qualy so we would be starting race 1 and 2 from dead last, 28th I think it was, we certainly get big grids in Formula Junior. So although we didn’t qualify I still had to prove to the clerk of the course that I was capable of driving so had to complete 3 laps in another session, luckily I was put out with the front engine juniors which are a similar speed, we were only supposed to do 3 laps but I stayed out for the full 15 minutes and did a time that would have put me around the mid pack if the time was valid, but overall I was happy with that.

Driving into the pits after this session I was then pulled over to one side by a marshal and was told that I had to go to race control to report to the Clerk of the course, I couldn’t help but wonder what I had done wrong, so feeling like a naughty school boy off to see the headmaster I walked down the pit lane to race control to find out more, luckily it was just to say that my transponder that records times wasn’t working so even if we had made qualy we would have still started last as I wasn’t being timed.

Race 1

Well I’m a firm believer that all things happen for a reason and it turned out that starting from the back wasn’t a bad thing which I’ll come to shortly. In true 2023 fashion as we were sitting in the holding area waiting to go out on track for our race a big black cloud appeared, now I had been checking the weather all week and Saturday and Sunday were supposed to be dry all day, but no, just like every other car event I’ve done this year rain looked imminent. This was to be my first standing start since 2018 as everything else has been rolling starts, So we did our out lap with plenty of swerving to get the tyres up to temp then took my last place on the grid, engaged 1st gave it around 6000 revs then the lights went red, then green, I pulled the clutch up and then the car nearly died and I spluttered away at a ridiculously slow pace losing the whole pack, looking back I was glad I wasn’t mid pack as that could have caused some real chaos, it turns out this was due to a slight engine issue but more on that later.

Anyway at least we were up and running but really last now, I got my head down did one lap then the rain hit, no surprises there, I came round Copse with a few cars off and pointing the wrong way, so I slowed down, kept things calm then after the shower the track dried pretty quick so we spent the rest of the race getting quicker, had a couple of good battles and ended up 21st, not great but I learnt that at low revs and pulling away there was something wrong that needed to be addressed.

Sunday – Race 2

We were out around midday for race 2 so I got to the track around 8am but was worried about the start after what happened yesterday so I went to speak to the organisers to make sure I was starting last again as I really didn’t want the same issue and to get rear ended, so with that done I went back to the garage and we started to warm the car up which turned out to be a real blessing as one of the other teams mechanics heard our engine and thought it sounded like it was only firing on 3 cylinders, a quick check and it indeed was, so a clean of the spark plug and that bought that back to 4 cylinders, also this mechanic checked out the twin carbs and they were well out also, this really reminded me of Biasing a valve amp, as he got out his carb tool and spent 20 mins setting the carbs so both were at the same level, just like balancing the left + right channel on a valve amp, now I couldn’t wait to get out on track to see if that sorted the engine issue out.

Thankfully this race looked dry for the full 20 mins, we did our out lap again and I took up my last place on the grid, selected first, upped the revs and waited for the green light and hoped for a better start and yes off we shot, the car accelerating beautifully and we overtook 4 cars before the first corner, this really fired me up to give it full beans, we had some great racing coming through the field, I even went 3 wide into Brooklands, came out in front but then heading towards Copse I missed a gear and lost both places but then a lap later took them back again, it was brilliant racing and we ended up making 11 overtakes, unheard of for me really, and bought our little Junior home in 17th which I thought was pretty good from where we started.

So overall another great weekend where we learnt a lot, better to get these niggles out the way now ready for next year, but I really can’t wait to do a full season now.

I have to say that after trying a few different racing disciplines I feel that I have now found my motorsport home with Formula Junior, firstly everyone is so nice, I mean the fact another team helped sort our engine just shows that but also the racing is clean and gentlemanly, exactly what I was looking for, I’m not looking to be the next hot shot, I just love being on track and to do that in a single seater Lotus with like minded enthusiasts is a real pleasure.

Roll on 2024.

Finally I just want to say a big shout out to Aced It Images who took most of these pictures, we met through Instagram where I saw he had posted a stunning pic of the 24 Nascar at Goodwood this year, so we got talking and he came along to this event to take most of the pics in this blog, he really has a great eye, makes it look like we are driving really fast, the first pic just looks like a video game capture to me, you can follow him on instagram at the below –

https://www.instagram.com/aced_it_images/

Cheers,

Paul.

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theboysfromaustin · 11 months

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February 17, 2020

It was around 3:30 when Anders and Dermot left with the baby. Ian stood at the window, watching them leave. Kazuo flopped into Gav's lap, reaching up to twirl his fingers in his goatee. "We have a grandson…" Gav's voice was quiet. "Yeah…" Kazuo smiled. Ian sighed, pressing his hand to the window. "What's up?" "Our baby boy is a father. He's really all grown up." "Yeah. He is." "Seeing our grandson…." "He is perfect…even if he does look like a spindly raisin."

"We're going shopping."

"What?" "Excuse me?"

Ian turned, eyes shining with tears, "We're gonna get so much baby gear for them. Our boy is a dad. We didn't have him as a baby, but…." He broke into a massive grin, "We are going to spoil this child." "How much can we realistically fit in the Aston Martin?" "Two cars. Kazuo, Gav, you follow." "He's serious." "Ian…" "Can't stop him now, Gav, just buckle up 'cause we're along for the ride." Ian grinned, heading for the kitchen, "C'mon boys, we're going to the baby store."

"Baby store's a good name for the sperm bank."

Ian snorted, "Why are you consistently the funniest person here?" "Probably undiagnosed mental illness." Gav gently cuffed him in the arm as they headed for the cars, Ian getting in and rolling down the window, "South on Mo-Pac. Follow me."

They followed Ian's car, Kazuo leaning his head out the wind, piercings rattling. "You sound like a wind chime." He stuck his tongue out at the redhead. "Hey, Kaz?" "Yeah?" "What was it like when you guys took in Anders?" Kazuo shut his eye, remembering that day almost 16 years ago, "Ian was nervous. Terribly nervous. He was afraid. I'd never seen him afraid before. I had to remind him that he had me to help him. That we could do it."

"I know it was a rough beginning…" "Yeah…I think Ian was a little afraid of making me the father of a teenager, but I didn't care. Anders was Ian's son. And I'd do anything for Ian, so wanting to love and raise the boy came naturally - though I'm sure Anders would bring up all the embarrassing things I did around him. I never had a dad who loved me enough to be a dork around me. I was making up for lost time….now I can be an embarrassing dork around young Ian."

They continued south to a shopping center on Brodie lane, Kazuo taking note of the Chick Fil-A, "Hey, we should go there, touch everything and infect it with our gay germs," then he perked up further, "Ah shit, there's a Michael's! Let's get some rainbow glitter, I'll grab a handful, run into the restaurant, throw it and yell, 'HOMO BLAST!'" Gav started laughing, choked on spit, and nearly hit a curb as Ian turned down an aisle.

Ian looked in his rearview mirror as Gav swerved, then pulled into a spot, Gav pulling in next to him. "Need driver's ed again, red?" "Your husband made me choke!" "You liked it last night!" This immediately got them a dirty look from a woman holding a baby, Ian offered a wave and an embarrassed grin, "Why is he always my husband when he's being snotty?" "You married him." "Yeah, you're stuck with me." Ian unceremoniously picked Kazuo up and dropped him in the basket of a cart, "Sit."

Kazuo leaned on the cart handle with a devilish grin as Ian began to push it, Gav falling in step beside him as they made their way into Buy Buy Baby, immediately assaulted by the aggressive air conditioning and the wails of unhappy children. Gav flinched immediately. "You okay, red? Need your ear plugs?" "No…I'm just not really used to kids screaming in stereo." "The boy seems to be a pretty chill baby." "Mum said I was a quiet baby." "My mom said I was wild. She used to put me in a sling and dance to Joy Division with me."

"You're still wild."

"You like it."

"God help me, I do." "He's a menace." "I like being a menace." "Alright, you two, what do we need?" "Clothes?" "Diapers?" "Good starts. They said they had a crib for us, so we'll need sheets. Also probably a high chair, for when he's older," he pushed the cart, noticing the stares they were getting. Kazuo hammed it up, waving like royalty as they approached the clothes. "He probably doesn't need anything more complex than onesies." "Yeah, I think Anders and Dermot might kill us if we buy him anything with tons of buttons." "How about zippers? We can make him into Bruno Bucciarati." "You are the worst type of nerd." "At least I own it," Kazuo smirked. "Be good and help us look at baby stuff."

Ian stepped up to the shelves, looking through the clothing, Gav on another rack. The redhead was holding up onesies, with Kazuo offering running commentary. Ian picked up a pale green-checked onesie with 'I love my grandpa' on it, and froze. Gav kept going through clothing for a couple minutes before anyone noticed.

Ian had gone silent. Gav looked up from the clothes, "Huh? Hey, Ian?" Kazuo climbed out of the cart and touched his upper arm, looking up at his husband. Ian was crying, tears streaming down his face, corners of his lips quivering. Concerned, Gav reached up to touch his cheek, and Ian flinched. "Baby, what's wrong?" "Hey, c'mere…" Gav led him to a bench, where Ian sat, staring at the floor. Kazuo got on his knees, leaning on Ian, chin on his head, "You told me a very long time ago how you always wanted to be a dad. You deserve this family."

"What scares me the most is that I may not see him grow up."

An icy pit immediately formed in Kazuo's stomach. Ian would be 81 in just a couple of months. "Don't say that. You're not allowed to talk like that…" He buried his face into Ian's hair, taking in his scent - shampoo, light cologne, black tea.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't fearmonger. It's…it's all finally come together. The complete family I always wanted. I know I just met the boy, but I need to protect him. He's perfect. If anything happened to him, I…I'd…" He shut his eyes, whimpering. "Okay, okay, come here big man," Kazuo sat down, pulling Ian's head to his chest. Gav clung to his other side, "We'll all watch over him. He's going to have a great childhood with us." "You…you're right. We're going to make the most of these years." "Yeah. C'mon…let's keep shopping."

—--

Ian flopped on the couch, looking at the things piled up in the living room. Gav and Kazuo flopped on either side with happy sighs. Kazuo opened his eye, "Uh, hey…have either of you ever changed a diaper?" "Nnnnno." "No, only baby I was ever around was your mum, and your grandparents took care of those things." "Maybe we should…practice?" Gav held up his hands. "On what?" The three men glanced over at Martha, who raised her head, then got up, went upstairs, and hid under the bed.

"Okay, not Martha." "Hmmm," Ian glanced at Kazuo who immediately flicked Ian's nose, "I'm open for a lot of things, but not that. Hey, Ian, you remember when we were cleaning the attic…" "Oh, no." "Oh, no, what?" Gav rested his hands on Ian's legs, leaning on them. "The doll." "That fucking doll." "Doll?" "So, after my mum died, I inherited things, lots of things, and like a fool, hauled them across the pond. One of those was an antique doll, which had been my mum's. And my grandmum's. I remember it from when I was a lad, I have always been terrified of this thing."

"When Ian first showed me old photos of my mom, we went through other boxes just to see what was up there. This thing was in a box, bound with rope…" "He opened it." "I had to see if you had some weird ritual thing made up for winning cases." "Oh please, I don't need an ounce of help winning cases, I do it on bravado and sexiness alone." "So, I opened it and screamed." "I look over, then knocked over a lamp, broke it and near pissed myself…"

"Turns out we've both had doll nightmares. I panicked and threw the box at Ian. He ran. Then I ran. We didn't go in the attic again until we paid Anders to re-box the doll and layer it inside other boxes." " We're not using the doll. I don't want to see it again. I can't." Gav thought for a moment, "One time in Detroit, I went up into a burned attic. In the dark, I stumbled on boxes and boxes of burnt dolls. I avoided that block after."

"Great, we're all a bunch of pussies about dolls." "I'll wear that label proudly." "Yeah, fuck dolls." "Well," Ian sighed, "I guess we'll just wing it. Anders and Dermot probably don't know what the hell they're doing, either." "Good, we're all dumbasses." "Wait, Gav, you have a psychotically evil sister - didn't she ever make you play house with baby dolls?"

Gav rolled his eyes, "I didn't play so much as I was forcibly dragged into it, and then she'd beat me with a doll and pelt me with plastic food." "Sounds fun." "I hated playing house, which is weird because now I thrive on domestic chores." "I can throw food at you." "I will talk to Dermot and Delta DASH you to my parents in Detroit."

"I want to go visit them so bad." "Fuck no." "I'm with Gav," Ian ruffled his hair, once more looking around the room at their haul, "I didn't think about this at first but I hope they have room for this stuff."

"They probably don't."

"Damn."

#oc #original character

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cophene · 1 year

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chase ii || ✦.⁺ overload.

previous chapter || the station || the pawnshop || next chapter || table of contents

pairing : vento aureo x gn reader summary : a college student tries getting the attention of some of the most admired and attractive people on campus, only to get caught up with stands and vigilante groups in the process. notes : modern au, multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn't follow canon plot word count : 2.4k+

═ ☆. Y/N WATCHED THE SCISSORS, wondering what Sale was doing to them. It was easier than looking down at the ground and focusing on the weightless feeling in their stomach.

"Who gives a shit?" Risotto spat. Nonetheless, the needles under Sale's skin faltered.

Sale grinned. He seemed to have no problem balancing on the book now. "You know why things move, right? Kinetic energy and all that? Well, Kraft Work lets me control that."

(Y/n) was too caught up trying to wrap their heads around the ability to register the absurdity of Sale's Stand being named Kraft Work.

"What are you trying to say?" Trish asked.

"If I take away something's kinetic energy, it freezes in place," Sale continued, clearly enjoying this. He hadn't stopped tapping on the scissors. "But when I start adding energy?"

What's the opposite of something frozen in place?

(Y/n) made a muffled noise through their gag. If it had been coherent, it would have sounded like—

"Duck!" Trish shrieked.

With one last tap, the scissors shot forward like a bullet. Sale cackled gleefully as it narrowly missed Trish and Risotto's heads. He hopped down to a book a few feet lower. Apparently, whoever he'd been waiting for had arrived. (Y/n) tried to make out who the person getting out of the car was. Sale reached the ground and exchanged a few harried words with them before shoving them and getting into the driver's seat. All at once, Kraft Work released its ability and (y/n) was falling the last few metres to the ground. Air whistled past their face, and they braced themselves for the impact.

"Oof." Zucchero nearly buckled underneath (y/n)'s weight, bucking into the side of the car as he caught them.

"Ah, fuck, it's you?"

With that, he tossed (y/n) unceremoniously into the backseat.

Giorno was chatting up a trio of pretty girls when a red car peeled out of the parking lot with a screech, leaving the smell of burned rubber hanging in the air. Giorno and the girls stared after it, wondering what had the driver in such a hurry.

"Anyways," one of the girls said flippantly. "When's your next party, Giorno?"

Giorno smiled faintly. "I'll have to see. It's been pretty—"

Trish leapt over the side of the Maserati.

"Go!" she cried. "Follow that car!"

"Why—"

Risotto vaulted into his seat. "Zucchero and Sale have got (y/n) in the backseat. Drive!"

Giorno only needed to hear (y/n)'s name to stomp down on the gas. The group of girls squealed in surprise as the car flew out of the parking lot and after the red car.

"What happened?" Giorno shouted, his hair a wild tangle in the fast-moving air.

"Sale happened," Trish answered, the colour high in her cheeks. "He got (y/n) tied up and then pushed them out the window. His Stand Kraft Work manipulates kinetic energy. It allows him to lock things in place and then fire them like projectiles."

Giorno swerved around a large van. The cars behind him honked loudly.

"Isn't Zucchero supposed to be in jail?"

"Signor D probably bailed him out."

Giorno was weaving between lanes so sporadically he didn't bother reaching for the blinker. "Why didn't you use Metallica, Risotto?"

"I did," Risotto said through gritted teeth. "But I got distracted."

Giorno hissed in frustration as the red top of the car wove in between cars. The Maserati was caught behind traffic as Sale narrowly crossed a changing traffic light.

"We're losing them," Trish said.

The trio was nearly pulled from their seats and Giorno turned sharply at the intersection, leaving rubber marks in his wake. A manic little smile tugged on his lips. He'd be lying if he said this wasn't the most fun he'd had in a while. Wasn't it everyone's dream to be in a car chase?

"We need to do something if you catch up with Sale," said Trish, her knuckles white against the dashboard.

"When not if." Giorno nearly bowled over an old lady with a walker. His mind felt like it was working on overdrive, his hands clenched around the steering wheel and eyes alternatively going from the red car to the cars around them. It was a miracle they hadn't been pulled over yet.

Pulled over...

It was a stretch, to be sure.

Giorno darted a glance at the sidewalk. It had to be ten kinds of illegal, but there weren't that many people on it and it had to be wide enough for the Maserati. If he could overtake Sale's car before it reached that tree...

"Giorno..." Risotto said warningly.

"Hold on to something."

Giorno put all of his weight onto the accelerator. The car leapt forward, and Giorno yanked on the steering wheel, taking out a trash can as he guided it onto the sidewalk. He pressed down on the horn repeatedly, scaring pedestrians out of the way. The side of the Maserati scratched against the storefronts, and if he'd looked behind him, he would've seen the sparks flying from the back of the car.

He was definitely losing his license after this.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Risotto screamed.

Giorno kept his foot on the accelerator, willing the car faster, faster. The cars on the street were passing by almost too quickly for him to see. He felt the steering wheel vibrating under his hands; the smallest twitch would've sent them careening into a building.

Trish gasped. "Giorno, you just passed them!"

The tree was twenty feet away. Fifteen. Giorno raised one of his arms, praying to whoever might be listening that he'd be able to pull this off. He would have to time it just right. Risotto and Trish's panicked shouts and the yelling from the street faded. It was just Giorno, the Maserati, and one of the low-hanging branches of the tree.

The air stung his palm as he reached for the branch. He knew just a split second before that his fingers wouldn't reach. Without realizing it, Gold Experience extended his reach, wrapping its hand around the branch. As soon as it did, Giorno spun the steering wheel madly, so quickly that the wheels slid and the car skidded off the sidewalk and onto the street. Trish and Risotto screamed as the Maserati turned one-eighty degrees, directly in Sale's path.

"Gold Experience!"

Giorno's Stand overloaded the tree with life energy. It grew rapidly, the tree trunk doubling in size and its roots splitting the street as they extended. The roots scraped against the underside of the Maserati, towing it along the street like an ocean wave. Soon, the roots had overtaken the street, as thick and impenetrable as barbed wire. Sale tried stopping the car but not before his vehicle barreled into the roots with a sickening crunch. The roots continued growing, swallowing the Maserati and Sale's car. Soon, though, Gold Experience's life energy cycled the tree to the end of its life and the roots shrivelled up and died. The enormous tree trunk groaned as it tipped over, conveniently crushing the back of the Maserati with a crunch of dead bark.

For a few minutes, nothing moved. It was just the smoking wreck of Sale's car and Giorno, Trish and Risotto trying to catch their breaths in the Maserati. Giorno slowly lifted his shaking hands from the steering wheel. His heart was beating so hard he was afraid it would burst from his chest.

"Stronzo!" Trish shouted at him. "What the hell were you thinking? You could've gotten us killed!"

"But-but I didn't." Perhaps for the first time, Giorno's voice was as shaky as his hands.

There was a sudden burst of activity. People around them started shouting, baffled at the sight of the fallen tree and shrivelled vines. The cars behind Sale's honked angrily, no doubt wondering when Giorno had decided he was a stunt driver.

"We need to get (y/n)," Risotto said brusquely, getting out of his seat. "The cops will be here soon."

Spice Girl softened the backdoor and Trish yanked on it, quickly pulling (y/n) out. The pink-and-white Stand reached into the car and warped the car seats around Sale and Zucchero, keeping them in place. There was a bloody gash on Sale's forehead and Zucchero was slumped over the dashboard, the unused seatbelt hanging accusingly over his shoulder.

"Find out what you can," Giorno muttered to Risotto, jerking his head toward Sale. Risotto glanced at (y/n) before stalking over to the driver's door.

Sale was struggling to free himself from the rubber-like seat. "I'm not telling you shit," he hissed at Risotto. "You're better off killing me."

He didn't take long to hack up a bloody stream of razor blades. Risotto had discovered they were easiest to create with Metallica. They didn't kill, but they were extremely painful and—

Risotto smirked. He flicked down the front visor mirror so Sale could see his own sallow reflection. "That's fine," Risotto said. "I'll just wait you out. With how low your iron levels are, your blood can't carry oxygen. Soon enough, you'll be braindead."

Sale took in a wheezing breath. The bravado and blood were leaching from his face.

"Who is Signor D?"

Risotto could hear distant sirens. Sale must have too because his hand reached outside. Risotto grabbed it.

"I'm not letting you get into an ambulance until you tell me what you know. Don't think I don't remember the shitty things you've been doing to students. Pesci's annoying as hell, but you have no right stealing his goddamn wallet."

Sale struggled for breath. Risotto willed Metallica to draw back.

"He works at Sapiena."

Sale's words were barely audible. Risotto leaned closer. "What?"

Sale drew in big gulping breaths between words. "Signor D works at Sapiena. That's how ... he knows all the Stand users there. He's part of ... part of an organization. He says he's collecting ... data. He's crazy rich. He can ... he can afford to pay us."

Risotto's head was whirring. "You don't know who he is?"

"N-no. There's only ... there are only two people who know."

Risotto cursed himself. Sale looked terrible. Metallica had taken too much iron from him. He'd die before he could tell Risotto everything.

"Who?"

Sale's head slumped to the side. Risotto swore, shaking Sale's shoulder. No luck. He was out cold.

The ambulance had arrived at the scene. A paramedic barked at Risotto to move out of the way before jostling Sale out of the car. They would have a hard time understanding why Sale's iron levels were so low from just a gash on his head.

A stout paramedic brushed up against Risotto.

"What happened here, signore?"

Meanwhile, Trish sat (y/n) up gingerly away from the roots and Sale's car. She took the sock from (y/n)'s mouth while Spice Girl softened the zip ties around (y/n)'s wrists and ankles.

"Are you okay, (y/n)? What did they do to you? Do you need a hospital?"

"I'm okay," (y/n) rasped. They rubbed their wrists, wincing at the angry red lines biting into their skin. (Y/n)'s eyes found the smoking car wreck and widened at the huge tree vines.

"What the hell did you guys do?"

Trish cut her eyes at Giorno. "Giorno decided to go kamikaze today."

Giorno crouched beside (y/n), glad to see they were none the worse for wear. "Sale was going to drive you to God-knows-where so, of course, we had to chase after you."

"He was going to take me to Signor D," (y/n) said. "Probably wouldn't have ended well."

Trish squeezed (y/n) to her chest, surprising (y/n) and Giorno both. "I'm so glad you're okay. We shouldn't have let that happen. I should've gone after Sale with Spice Girl. Or Risotto with his freaking Metallica."

(Y/n) relaxed into Trish's hug. "Hey, Giorno wrecked his Maserati for me. I'd say we're even." They smiled crookedly at Giorno, and he had to look away when his stomach swooped.

"You're worth more than a Maserati, (y/n)."

Trish let (y/n) go, watching Sale and Zucchero being hauled onto stretchers. "I can't believe someone bailed Zucchero out. I hope both of them are going right back to jail after this."

"Excuse me, are you the owner of this car?" Giorno took in a breath at the sight of a police officer striding towards him. He positioned the most innocent expression on his face, prepared to dodge any potential charges with a bit of charm and the name of the city's chief prosecutor.

"I am, officer. As you can see, my vehicle got the better of me."

The officer pursed her lips. "To say the least."

Giorno was escorted to the nearest police station. (Y/n) could tell the female officer who'd questioned him was suspicious of him, Trish and Risotto as well, but she'd reluctantly let them go when Giorno kept insisting he was the one responsible. Now, the three of them were walking uncertainly along the sidewalk to the nearest bus stop.

"He'll be fine," Trish said faintly. "Giorno can lie his way out of anything. Plus he's got Signor Brando to cover his ass."

"Who's gonna cover our ass?" Risotto muttered. "We could get arrested too, you know."

(Y/n) stayed quiet. They thought about the information Risotto had learned from Sale, that Signor D worked at Sapiena. Honestly, it brought up more questions than answers, and (y/n) was frustrated this debacle had earned them so little.

"I'm sorry," (y/n) apologized again. "If I hadn't been so stupid, Giorno would still have his car and you guys wouldn't have nearly died."

Trish snorted. "Quit apologizing. This isn't your fault. If anything, it's ours for thinking we could've intercepted Sale at the tram station."

"You should call the others," Risotto said. "Maybe their missions went better."

Trish pulled out her phone and searched through her contacts. Risotto drew a little closer to (y/n). "Are you sure you're alright? Sale didn't do anything?"

"Nope. Dropping me down a building and tossing me into a car was all he had time to do." (Y/n) peered at him. "No luck with the scissors?"

Risotto had to take a moment to get what (y/n) meant. "No, but I'm getting pretty good at the razor blades."

"Scissors are where it's at."

"And I think I told you I need a test subject."

"Guys, where are you? Are you all okay?" Trish pressed her phone to her ear, eyebrows drawn together. She listened for a minute, than shook her head. "Bruno's apartment. Now."

"Something happen?" Risotto asked.

"Seems like it," Trish said, picking up their pace. "At any rate, it'll be easier to explain when we're all in one place."

"I just hope everyone didn't have as exciting a time as we did," (y/n) said.

previous chapter || the station || the pawnshop || next chapter || table of contents

#pseuminova #JJBA #jjba fanfic #jjba x reader #Golden Wind #golden wind x reader #Vento Aureo #vento aureo x reader #gender neutral reader #modern au

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messygray · 2 years

Text

Never Mess

destruction of the nose? Zhang “Raphael” Yong Cheng

“I swear, I’m going to run you over, as soon as I get my hands on the wheel-” a shout of anger is made into the dark, night air. A boy with an average physique- no more than 5’7 tall, stomps his way across the parking lot, fists balled and puffs of heated air punching past his lips in an irate staccato. He’s wearing a light jacket, some random tee and a pair of joggers to pair. Along with his already not-at-all impressive physique, Raphael Zhang looks deceivingly harmless. But most people knew better than to get in the Chinese boy’s way whenever his wrath peaked in dangerously high levels. Most of the regulars at the meets knew the boy meant what he put down; that he was more bite than bark, even.

And tonight, Raphael bore wild eyes and even wilder hair; something akin to feral chaos running rampant in his dark orbs as he seeks out the driver who’d skidded a little too close to his friend that night.

The victim of the threat, some nameless driver who’d decided to sign up as a one time thing at the car meet, hadn’t looked so scared when he’d jumped out of his scratched up car. Now, the look of calmness was long gone; replaced with a sort of surprise. A surprise that so much anger could be held in such a small form, that is. As if Raphael’s wrath had been compressed, always ready to burn with catastrophic intent.

But the culminations that lead to this vindictive feeling blooming in Raphael’s chest was justified. In his opinion. The nameless driver had been reckless in his race, swerving lanes all night long as if to cut his opponent off from the road- even when the pair had hit a particular section of the track that had even onlookers biting their names in anxiety. The unnamed boy- some bitch, had thought it would be funny to bump Atticus’ car. Not only scraping the beauty (something Raphael would have to listen to the lamenting of until Jace polished him up, for sure- much to Raph’s annoyance), but the unnamed boy had very nearly sent Atticus tumbling down the shallow curbside and into the unpaved path, if the latter hadn’t swerved dangerously by reflex. And it went without saying that his best friend’s car was absolutely not made for offroading joy rides.

If Atticus hadn’t the instincts for driving that Raphael had tried so hard to instill into him–

The Chinese boy didn’t even want to fathom the hypothetical state of his close buddy then; damage to the car aside, of course.

No, if Atticus had actually been more than a little bruised, Raphael was sure he’d burst a vessel in his temple. Would have definitely done something he’d regret the next morning- if he were lucky enough not to be taken away by authorities, anyway.

Not that he didn’t already though, with the way Atticus unfortunately lost by the millisecond tonight.

Because of this bastard.

Raphael promptly swipes off any hands that try to grab him before he could reach his victim. He slips through the crowd, feet stomping heavy and thunderous like a drum, until he’s close enough to grab the other.

Without thinking, he takes a hold of the boy’s shirt with both hands, grip strong enough to rip fabric, and yanks the taller of the two by only a few inches to his eye level.

“You think you’re so cool for that little maneuver you did, huh? You wanna try that with me? Someone should ‘pit maneuver’ your ass into the ditch and see where that leads you. CC doesn’t play dirty like that, know your place.” He snarls.

“So what, can’t handle a little bit of rough housing? Didn’t know you guys were a bunch of ba-”

The unnamed boy doesn’t get to finish when a solid punch lands against his nose, a sickening crunch following not a moment after. He tumbles to the ground with a thud, ass-first onto the dirty pavement. Dirty, just like him. That motherfucking rat. The boy feels his nose run red, while Raphael sees red.

“Let’s get behind the wheel and find out. If you end up dead in a ditch, don’t blame me.”

The Chinese boy spits dirty in the other’s face.

Fortunately, Atticus does end up gripping Raphael’s shoulder and yanking him firmly away from the other in the dirt. His grip is firm and tight and although there was something akin to pride blooming in Atticus’ own chest, he chooses to play the ‘bigger man’ this time around.

“He’s not worth your time, ‘Cheng. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

The boy still is threatened into another race, though. Despite his bloody nose.

Raphael still brings home a win on behalf of his best friend.

Though it’s not as satisfying as the Chinese would have liked.

How disappointing.

#zhang yong cheng #raphael zhang #atticus han #han myeongjin #summer waves

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niqhtlord01 · 2 years

Text

Humans are weird: Salvage Rights

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Inbound vessel, please restate your last transmission.”

The control room sat in silence as Foreman nervously sent out his question again. Everyone present in the control room had served on the massive orbital dockyards of Nevan III for over twenty years, the foreman alone having been born and raised on the station some fifty years ago, and none of them knew what to do next.

Two hours earlier an inbound jump signature was detected at the edge of the system. This was far from unusual given the high amount of traffic the dockyard drew in. On average the dockyard would see some thousand or so vessels coming and going on a daily basis. What had been usual was when the control room operators noticed that several dozen ships were veering away from the new inbound vessel and scattering all across the system. The rules of trade for the system was that ships had to follow the specific designated lanes lest they risk endangering other ships going in and out of the system.

Communication officers began calling out to the ships as they were fleeing, but what they heard didn’t make any sense.

“It’s massive!”

“It’s coming right at us, hard to port now!”

“Not again……please…not again…”

“Get us the frak out of here now!!”

Soon more and more ships were swerving out of the way until a hundred vessels were wildly off course and fleeing the system in all directions. What was more disturbing was that all attempts to communicate with the strange inbound ship were met with silence; and it wouldn’t be for another hour until the control room staff learned why.

The vessel slowly crept out from behind the dark side of the planets moon and finally came into view of the dockyards exterior cameras. One could hear a pin drop as the room went silent.

It was a Scral warship.

Shaped like a longleaf pinecone in dark purple metal the ship was what one admiral dubbed a “Fleet killer”. Every inch had launch bays for automated fighters to pour out from and swarm their target. Massive gun ports dotted the exterior surface holding twin plasma cannons capable of cutting through armored hulls like a knife through butter, all protected by several dozen class five shield generators scattered around the entire ship for maximum protection.

The ship was nearly the size of the dockyard and as it approached the station the shadow of the vessel became to engulf the orbital structure like a shroud of despair. None of the system defense ships had even a fraction of the firepower that now floated before them and the nearest defense fleet was over seven systems away and would never reach them in time.

As the embodiment of death drew closer the communication officers begin picking up garbled messages being sent from the warship. Fragmented transmissions were being sent from the vessel but the control room staff could barely make them out.

“Scral warship,” the Foreman spoke into the transmitter, “please adjust your frequencies to channel nine-five-alpha-seven-three and repeat your last message.”

The crew waited for what felt like an eternity before they heard the reply.

“Hello; can you hear me now?”

Instead of the harsh guttural voices of the Scral, the control room staff was surprised to hear a much softer voice.

“Felix, you stupid fraker, you told me you fixed the radio.” The strange voice continued.

“It was that or fix the oxygen scrubbers and I don’t know about you but I like fraking breathing!” The second voice was not as clear as the first and it sounded as if it was coming from farther away from the transmitter.

“This is Orbital control,” the Foreman said after gathering his wits once more, “we can read you loud and clear.”

“Oh you can?” the reply from the original voice. “Sorry about that felix, you’re a saint.”

Something inaudible could be heard in the background but the Foreman couldn’t make it out. When the background chatter died down the original voice returned.

“This is Captain York of the inbound Scral warship and we would like to sell this ship.”

“You want….to sell it?”

In all of his years working in the orbital dockyard the foreman had never heard something so outlandish.

“Are you Scral?” the Foreman asked.

“That is a negative,” York replied, “my crew and I are all human.”

The control room broke out into a bustle of conversations that took several minutes to die down, mostly due to the foreman’s loud shouting for silence.

“Would you mind explaining how humans came into possession of a Scral warship?” the Foreman asked.

“We stole it.” The voice sounded like the human Felix over the radio.

“You stole it?”

“Of course not,” York declared rather loudly over the radio, “we salvaged it; no stealing involved at all.”

The foreman sat in silence for a few moments before his scanning officer waved to him. He silently uploaded a data file of their most recent scan of the Scral warship.

“We just ran a life sign scan for your ship and we only register human lifesigns.” The foreman said over the radio.

“See, just like I said.” York replied.

“Can you please explain what happened to the Scral crew?” The foreman countered. ��There would have been a crew of some five thousand onboard such a vessel.”

The radio was silent for a few minutes before York responded to the question.

“Ah yes, the original crew, such a sad story.” York began. “It seems they had a computer malfunction and their entire atmosphere was vented into space, leaving the crew to slow and painful deaths.”

“And how would you know this?”

Another round of silence until Felix came replied. “We found the ship floating in the void and when we investigated the ship the logs told us what happened.”

“Oh yes,” York came back with, “those logs were very helpful with explaining the….ah…the mystery.”

The Foreman could tell the humans were lying through their teeth, but he still couldn’t understand why.

“And now your intention is to sell the vessel?”

“That is correct.” York replied.

“But why?” the foreman asked. “You now find yourself in control of one of the most powerful warships in the galaxy, and rather than using it for yourself you are….selling it?”

“Because we can make a lot of credits off this, why else would we be selling it” York replied. “We’re just simple folks out to make some credits, not start a war.”

“Yes, I know it’s worth a large sum of credits but-“

“Look if you’re not interested just say so.” York said cutting off the foreman. “There are plenty of other stations out there with buyers.”

“If you will just wait,” the foreman stammered, “I am just trying to understand-“

This time it was Felix who cut in. “If they’re not buying can we head out captain? Everything here is written in Scral and fraking hurts my eyes to read.”

“Frak it,” York came in, “we’ll find another buyer.”

At the end of that transmission the massive warship powered up its engines and began turning to head back the way it came to the edge of the system.

“Wait!” The foreman shouted over the radio. “If you just give me some time I can contact the appropriate officials to handle the purchase.”

Another long silence as the warship’s engines slowly powered down again.

“So you are interested then?” York said over the radio. “How long will it take?”

The Foreman looked around at his staff as many of them simply shrugged their shoulders.

“It will take..ah..three hours to get the officials together to present you with an offer.”

“Splendid.” York said as the warship went completely still again. “While we wait can you send over some food? My crew hasn’t had anything but Scral ration packs.”

“We’ll see what we can do.”

With that the Foreman cut off transmission with the warship and turned to the nearest communications officer.

“Get me a direct line to the chamber of scions now!”

The officer nodded and began bringing up a direct line now as the foreman watched the Warship continue to hover just off the station from the view screen.

“They are never going to believe this.”

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #writing #original writing #funny

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓!𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦

Warnings: Aged up/Older Ateez but age differences are still within legal boundaries. Suggestive scenarios only, no actual NSFW content.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

"Hongjoong!" You continuously poked at his arm rather harshly, trying to get him to look away from the phone in his hands.

"What-what?!" He freaked out and accidentally dropped his phone on the floor.

When he saw you peeking over to see what had gotten him so interested, he quickly scrambled to pick it up before hiding it in his lap. That made you even more suspicious.

"What are you trying to hide?" You squinted your eyes at him.

Hongjoong gulped nervously, which made your anxiety rise up.

"No-nothing... " But obviously there was something if his eyes refused to look at you. The longer you stared at him, the more Hongjoong seemed to recoil back in his chair, looking like he was..... guilty? Ashamed?

Dropping your fork on the table, you held up an accusatory finger at him.

"I'm warning you right now Kim Hongjoong, if you're fucking cheating on me I will cut off your penis while you're sleeping!" You threatened him.

The color drained from Hongjoong's face but nonetheless he got up to go over and calm you down.

"No no babe! I'm not cheating on you! I swear." He promised you, even getting on his knees in front of you.

"Then what were you looking at that you didn't want me to see?"

Sighing softly, Hongjoong took out his phone and pulled up the picture that he was looking at: it was a really cute and girly crib with a pink bed setting. You had to admit you were surprised that it would be something he was so intently looking at.

"And tell me why you were so distracted by this? Who were you planning on buying this for? Our son is already 3 and I don't think he'll appreciate the frilly pink in his room." You tried reasoning with him.

"No it's not for him. I've just been seeing so many nursery ideas for baby girls and it kinda got me thinking...." He paused and layed a hand on your stomach as he bit down on his lip, hoping you'd catch on to what he was trying to say.

And you most certainly did.

"Hongjoong- are you telling me you actually want another baby?" You weren't put off by the idea but it was so sudden and unexpected that you didn't know how to react.

Standing upright, Hongjoong squeezed your cheeks and softly pecked your lips.

"I do. I want an adorable and beautiful little girl... just like you. " He chuckled adoringly as he pressed more kisses to your cheek, trying to coerce you into saying yes.

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

"Dang, could you imagine raising 6 kids?" You asked Seonghwa as you cuddled up closer to him, your hand stroking the little patch of skin that was peeking out of his pajama shirt while you two watched the old sitcom The Brady Bunch play on your tv.

"Well you'd never have a boring day for sure." He chuckled, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You hummed softly, eyes never leaving the screen in front of you.

"True...but to think how exhausting it must be. We only have two and they take up most of our time."

Seonghwa laughed at how true your words were, your twins already nearing 5 years of age and boy were they a handful. If you weren't making sure they were doing well in school, you almost always had to deal with the boy pranking his sister or causing all kinds of mischief or you had your daughter coming up to you with the darnest of questions, one after another.

"But you can't deny they're adorable and they make our life happier." He reminded you, and you had to agree. Like Seonghwa said, there was never a boring day with your two munchkins around.

Feeling Seonghwa's fingers idly tap along your hip, you knew his mind was elsewhere and not on the show playing on the tv.

"Penny for your thoughts?" You asked him.

Seonghwa wondered whether it would be a good idea to say something but ultimately decided 'screw it.' Turning off the tv, he sat up and looked you straight in the eye.

"How would you feel about adding another member to the family?" He straight out blurted it out.

Although you knew what he meant, you decided to play like you didn't understand.

"I thought you said no pets because they make a mess." You giggled which caused Seonghwa to flick your head.

"You know that's not what I meant." He huffed out.

"I know, I know love...."

Grabbing the collar of his shirt, your fingers slowly began undoing the buttons.

"So.... you want another baby?"

Seonghwa felt himself hardening when he looked at your suggestive eyes.

"Yes." He breathed out, tongue swiping over his lips when you brought your face close to his.

"Wanna fuck another baby into me?" You smirked as you layed down on the bed and pulled him on top of you.

"Hell yeah-"

Your moment was interrupted when you heard the screeching of your daughter as she called out for you, ratting out her brother in his new prank. Seonghwa sighed loudly as he got up.

"Guess we're trying this another night."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Picking his son up from school, Yunho watched as the little boy waved goodbye to his friends who in turn ran to their respective parents. He noticed how the boy seemed to look with great curiosity at some of them, particularly when they would hug or mess around with the sibling that was accompanying their dad or mom. Even during the car ride home, Yunho would peer through the rear view mirror and saw the little boy fidgeting his tiny hands.

"What's up buddy? Something on your mind?" He asked.

His son looked around nervously before blurting out:

"Dad how come all of my friends have brothers or sisters but I don't?"

Yunho had to steady his grip on the steering wheel to keep from swerving onto the opposite lane. He was not prepared to be asked such a question by his son.

"I well umm..... mommy and I didn't know you'd want a sibling...."

Yunho looked back at his son through the rear view mirror, hesitating on his words.

"Do you want a brother or sister?"

The reaction on the boy's face was immediate, eyes growing big and sparkling.

"Yes! I want someone to play with every day too!" He squealed.

Yunho chuckled at his son's excitement. Getting out his phone, being careful not to take his eyes off the road, he made a quick call to Mingi and asked him if he could babysit for a couple hours, which his friend was more than happy to do. Yunho immensely thanked him and hung up.

"Well buddy, for today please settle for Mingi's daughter. Maybe this time you'll actually beat her in climbing up a tree faster."

Happy at getting his boy content and with entertained for a few hours, Yunho dropped him off at Mingi's place, the latter promising to take good care of him, which Yunho didn't doubt one bit. Getting back inside the car, he nearly drove over the speed limit just so he could get home as fast as possible. You were just finishing up setting up the table for lunch when Yunho came running inside.

"Hey, where's-"

You slightly gasped when Yunho cupped your face and began kissing you hungrily, his mouth devouring yours as his hands went to the back of your thighs so he could pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist.

"Yunho what has gotten into you? Where's my baby?" You finally asked when you were able to catch your breath.

"He's over with Mingi and he'll be there for a couple hours, perfect if you ask me."

You couldn't help the blush that spread across your cheeks when Yunho kicked open the door to your room and proceeded to lay you on the bed.

"Our son is lonely, he wants someone to play with and keep him company."

You giggled when you caught onto his meaning, tilting your head when he began peppering kisses along your jaw.

"So let's try and make him a sibling."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Yeosang and you calmly laid out the food on top of the picnic blanket, one of you looking over every once in a while at the pair of kids running around the park, making sure neither of them got hurt, which they didn't. You two merely exchanged amused looks when you heard their playful bantering.

"Hey! No fair! You cheated!" Your son accused his older half sister, face frowning at having lost in their game of hide and seek.

"Did not! You're just a sore loser." Eunbin called out.

Huffing loudly, your son stomped his tiny 4 year old feet away from her, but stopping midway to turn around dramatically.

"I liked you better when you'd let me win!" He exclaimed.

"And I liked you better when you couldn't talk and still needed to be changed. You were a lot cuter back then!" Eunbin replied, half snorting at her statement.

You and Yeosang tried not to burst out laughing right then and there, preferring to keep quiet, knowing they'd be friends again in 5 minutes and forget they even got mad at each other. You went back to your task of peeling fruit, so engrossed that you almost didn't hear Yeosang start talking.

"He was incredibly adorable as a baby, Eunbin isn't lying." He commented.

"Yeah he was. He looked like a little cherub. Squishy cheeks and button nose." You faintly squealed as you recalled all the times you'd stay by his crib and watched him sleep.

Yeosang also began reminiscing about those times, his mind starting to get ideas.

"What if we had another one?" He asked so casually.

"Another baby?" You raised your head to look at him.

"Yeah.... I mean... I kinda miss all those sleepless nights of crying, endless feeding, rocking them to sleep and changing diapers." Yeosang admitted.

"I did most of it though." You reminded him.

"I mean.... I helped didn't I?" Yeosang tried to argue.

"Actually Damian helped out, even if he was grouchy about it." You rolled your eyes.

Yeosang huffed. "So I take it this means no baby?"

"Now hold on, I didn't say that. I'm very open to the idea, but you know this isn't a decision to make ourselves."

Calling for your children over, they speedily made their way to you two, each of them sitting next to their favorite parent, Eunbin next to her father while your son scooted over with you, resting his head on your lap.

"Hey kids, what do you guys think about mommy and I getting you guys a brother or sister?"

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

"There you go princess. All nice and pretty like always. Remember to behave at school ok? And be nice...."

Looking over to make sure you weren't within earshot, San leaned in and whispered to his daughter.

"But if anyone is being mean to you, remember to do that thing I taught you."

The tiny pig tailed girl held up her tiny fists and proceeded to lift her foot up and kick the air, just like her father had secretly taught her to do when you weren't around.

"That's my girl! Love you."

Kissing the top of her head, he watched her get in the car that also contained Wooyoung's daughter, their mom waving from the driver's side before taking them both to school. As usual, San stayed by the doorstep and waited a couple minutes before heading back inside. He joined you in the kitchen, where you were busy washing dishes from breakfast. Feeling your husband hug you from behind, you looked over and pecked his cheek.

"What's wrong?" You asked when you saw his pouty face.

"I'm worried about our princess. What if something happens to her?" He was starting once more with his overprotective dad mode.

"San she's going to be fine." You assured him.

"How do we know for sure? We say that now but what about later in life? Soon she'll start growing up, start making her own decisions and- Oh my God! Boys! Some boy will try to take her away from me!" He screeched, pure panic on his face.

"And that's normal. She will attract boys, she will date, will get her heartbroken-"

"Oh no no no, anyone breaks her heart, I'll break their necks." He cracked his knuckles to get his point across.

"You can't spy on her 24/7 you know. You might not even know when someone is interested in her or if she's interested in someone." You tried explaining to him.

"Hmmm true....we need someone else to do the job.."

Turning you around, San had a mischievous look in his eyes as he began untying your robe.

"Maybe someone like a little brother to report to me anything that goes on in her life."

You scoffed at him. "Choi San, are you suggesting we have a kid merely so they'll become your little accomplice?"

San chuckled as he pulled your body against his.

"That and it's getting pretty gloomy in the house without our daughter. Another baby might cheer us up."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Mingi and you cooed at the tiny baby that was in Yunho's arms.

"He's so adorable." You squeaked when he brought it closer to you so you could get a better look at his tiny face

"And big." Mingi pointed out

"Yep, his mom felt that too while pushing him out." Yunho grimaced as he recalled the excruciating hours inside the delivery room.

"But it was all worth it in the end. We brought another healthy precious boy into the world and our son won't be so lonely anymore." Yunho continued as he looked over towards his son and your daughter who were currently immersed in their favorite tv show.

"Here, wanna hold him?"

Of course you did. Carefully taking the baby from his arms, you rocked him in your embrace, your heart nearly bursting out of your chest from how cute he was.

"Oh my god Mingi! He's the cutest thing ever." You whisper yelled, not wanting to cause the baby to cry or anything.

"I know. Doesn't it make you want another one?"

You whipped your head over at Mingi, who looked shocked that he actually said that.

"I mean- if you don't want to that's fine. I understand. After all, we already have our lovely daughter and I wouldn't want you to go through another pregnancy if you weren't up to it..." His babbling started to trail off, throat clearing as he felt embarrassed about what he said.

"Well look at that, he needs to be fed. Maybe it'll give you two time to talk." Yunho laughed slightly as he took the baby away and went to go prepare a bottle.

When Mingi looked back, you had your arms crossed over your chest, foot tapping against the floor. Your stare made him nervous.

"Song Mingi....do you want another baby?" You raised an eyebrow.

"I mean....I would but if you don't, I won't-"

You silenced him by pressing a kiss on his lips.

"I do. I think it'd be nice to grow our tiny family a little more." Your reply brought a smile to his face.

"Really? You mean it?"

You nodded immediately, giggling when he pressed more kisses on your lips.

"Can we start trying tonight?"

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

"Y/N, I need your opinion on something." Wooyoung called out for you.

Walking into the room, you saw him face deep on his laptop, scrolling the mouse down.

"What?" You asked as you came up behind him.

"You know how we've been talking about moving to a different area?" You nodded at his question. Indeed, you had both been discussing about moving to a neighborhood that was close to your daughter's school.

"Well I found a few options and I wanted to see if you liked any of them."

Hunching over slightly, you started looking at all the different houses Wooyoung found. They all looked pretty cozy and very spacious.. a little too big though.

"Ooh! That's the one I liked! It has this huge backyard and I was thinking maybe we could install a playground for our daughter out there. With swings and a slide. Or maybe a trampoline!" He excitedly poured out his ideas.

"Wooyoung these are all 4 bedroom houses though." You pointed out.

"Yeah. So?" He shrugged.

"It's literally just 3 of us, what on earth are we going to do with 2 spare rooms?" You questioned him.

"Well I mean....what if..it wasn't just us 3? What if 3 became 4...or even more?" He looked up at you as he bit down on his lip, his hands coming up to caress your hips in a suggestive manner.

Smiling fondly at him, you cupped his cheeks and hummed.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" You smirked at him.

"Are you going to say yes?" He looked at you with a hopeful smile.

You pretended to think about it, but eventually sighed and gave in.

"Yes."

Wooyoung jumped up from his seat and crushed you in a tight embrace, his lips attacking your cheek with pecks that felt more aggresive than grateful.

"Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!" He repeated over and over again.

Running out of the room, he barged into your daughter's bedroom where he proceeded to pick her up and spin her around, the poor girl confused.

"Guess what babygirl?! We're moving to a new house and you're going to get a sibling!"

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

Jongho steadied the tiny girl on his lap who was bouncing out of emotion while watching the soccer game.

"Ok ok honey, settle down. I don't want you falling off or something." He said as his strong hands kept her in place.

You and your daughter proudly cheered for Hongjoong's son and his team as they continued to score goal after goal, eventually winning over the other team which sent all of the spectators into a frenzy.

"Oh my god! They actually won!" You clapped.

Overflowing with excitement, your daughter hopped off her dad's lap and ran full speed into the field where she proceeded to latch onto Hongjoong's son, her tiny arms clinging to him while the poor boy was looking scared and nudged for someone to help him.

"Of course she'd run over to him." Jongho let out a sigh.

"Upset that your little girl already has her first crush?" You teased.

"No- well yes, but no actually."

Sensing that something was the matter with him, you inched yourself closer to Jongho, your hand reaching out to hold his.

"Is something wrong?"

It took a while for Jongho to muster his thoughts, but he eventually laid out his worries to you.

"No, it's just.... don't get me wrong, I love our daughter very much, she's my whole world along with you. But I can't help but feel jealous of my friends with their sons. Taking them to soccer matches every weekend, teaching them how to kick a ball, score a goal, you know, activities for father son bonding times."

You understood what he was talking about and although he could very well try to teach those things to your daughter, she was much too delicate and girly for such things, not to mention she didn't have much of an interest in sports. Resting your head on his shoulder, you smiled as you suggested:

"Maybe we should start trying for a boy then. I think it'd be nice don't you?"

Jongho whipped his head at you, questioning if you were being serious or not. You grinned and kissed his nose, effectively letting him know you were indeed being serious. Giggling, he pulled you against him and kissed your forehead.

"I love you so much."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

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