#I mean she already failed so her rank at work is about to tank

[groove-on-boogie-down]

Syril Karn (Cereal Corn) and Dedra Meero, creep me out so bad. They do not need to be romantic in any way to ME.

But his obsession with Cassian being taken over by his obsession with her, and her near-death experience probably making her feel in debt and him feel entitled to her attention could lead to a very interesting arc.

[refuge-au]

>Open the Captain's File

Xisuma: Break the News

The model in the center of the entrance hall spun slowly, the mechanical, to scale, planets orbiting the massive sun at a rate thousands of times faster than their real counterparts did. The fake sun glowed softly, it’s light dimming briefly as Jupiter crossed between it and the man viewing it. Jupiter’s moons and the metallic arms that held them above the ground created a spiderweb pattern of shadows on the ground that slowly swept across the body of the visitor as it moved.

Xisuma stood several feet away from the center of the solar system model, his eyes tracing the path of Earth as it came out from behind the sun in an almost melancholy way. His brown hair was tied back in a short ponytail, his beard freshly trimmed- although you couldn’t see it at all thanks to the respirator he was wearing. He had even gone to the trouble of putting on one of his more casual dress uniforms.

The effort hadn’t gone unnoticed by the museum staff, drawing a couple of confused looks and some whispers, but he did his best to ignore him. What he had to say wouldn’t go over well, so he might as well look nice. Get some compliments.

The door opened, and the employee greeted the group of people that walked in cheerfully. X turned around, taking a deep breath, and smiled. Show time.

An older woman, just a bit shorter than him, her hair almost completely white, was pushing the wheelchair of a man that someone might have mistaken for him, if his hair weren't as white as hers and his face covered in scars. The woman checked in at the front desk quickly, showing a pass, and then turned and saw him, her eyes crinkling in a smile.

She walked over to Xisuma, the man in the wheelchair saying something and rolling over to the other side of the model.

“Hey, mom.” He said, trying to ignore the way his bottom lip trembled when she pulled him into a hug, her respirator digging into his shoulder.

“You’re all dressed up.” She said, stepping back and putting a hand to his cheek in the way that she always had when they were little. “You look nice, honey.”

“Thank you.” He said, bringing his hand up to cover hers. “You look nice too.”

She chuckled, patting the side of his face and then putting her hand down. “Oh, stop. I didn’t realize that this was going to be a formal dress event, or I would’ve thrown on something besides my work clothes.”

“It’s not a formal dress event, I just felt like cleaning up a bit.” Xisuma shrugged, hoping that the tension in his shoulders didn’t betray the news that he was bringing. “Haven’t had the opportunity to wear this in a bit, got a discount on museum admission, you know.”

She smiled at him again, but her eyes seemed… sad. “…Xisuma, we’re very proud of you. You know that, right?”

“I know.” He replied. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, just looking at him, as if she was searching for an answer to an unspoken question in his eyes. Whatever she found there didn’t seem to change her emotions, her soft smile and that strange sadness remaining as she pulled her purse to the front of her, opening it.

“You should go talk to your brother, dear. I need to go change my filter before I forget.”

“You didn’t change it before you came here? Mom…”

She waved one hand in the air as she continued to move things around in her purse with the other. “The alert came just as we got inside. A few minutes on a bad filter isn’t going to kill me.”

“…Alright. We’ll wait for you.” Xisuma said, and his mother waved him off as he headed over to the other side of the model where his twin brother was sitting, staring up at the planets in silence.

He reached his side, and stopped. Neither of them spoke for what seemed like forever.

Finally his brother spoke. “Xisuma.”

“Xenelis.” He replied, looking down to find his twin’s steely grey eyes staring up at him.

“Where are they sending you this time?” Xenelis’ voice was quiet, raspy- although he didn’t know if it was from the medical grade respirator attached to his mouth and nose or from his vocal cords being underused.

Xisuma started. “What? What do you mean?”

“You didn’t visit us at home or at the hospital, you called us out. You’re dressed up, but you didn’t tell us that this was a formal event. You’re stiffer than usual, which is saying something, and you look like you’re homesick even though you’re a fifteen minute commute away from your apartment.” Xenelis said, his voice carefully void of all emotion. “Where are they sending you?”

Xisuma looked away, breaking eyes contact and staring up at the solar system spinning above him. “Off planet.”

“Out of galaxy?”

“Yes.”

“How far?”

Xisuma didn’t respond for a moment too long, and that was all the answer that his brother needed. His sigh, heavy and full of disappointment and bitterness, hit Xisuma like a bullet to the heart.

“Of course.” Xenelis said. “Well, congratulations. You did it. You left us behind, just like you always wanted too. Good job, bro.”

“Damnit, Xen, you know that’s not-“ Xisuma rounded on his brother, hands automatically going to his hips.

“It’s not? It’s not? It sure as hell looks like it is. You’ve been leaving our whole lives, Iz- it’s just nonstop leaving and leaving and leaving- and now you finally don’t have to come back!” Xenelis snapped. “Good for you! Living your dream!”

“This mission is for the sake of the entire planet! I can’t just refuse to go on a mission that might make or break the human race-“

“Of course you can! You’re not the only high ranking officer out there! They could’ve found someone else, anyone else!”

“They came to me, specifically, asked me to pick out a crew, told me that we would save the world- how am I supposed to turn that offer down? You would’ve taken it in an instant-“

“Not if you were in my position I fucking wouldn’t’ve-!”

“Boys?” Their mom called from the other side of the model.

“Coming, mom.” They chorused automatically, shooting each other a glare. Xisuma walked around one side of the model and Xenelis rolled around the other, meeting in the middle.

Their mother smiled at both of them, apparently unaware of the argument that had been rapidly escalating until she entered the conversation. “There you are. Shall we go look at the new exhibits? I heard they had one about the Titanic.”

“Sure, mom.” Xisuma said, falling into step behind her as she led the way into the museum.

The visit was… cordial. Their mother chatted with both of them about equally, talking about this and that, whatever came to her mind. She was probably trying to fill the heavy silence that fell between the twins, Xenelis refusing to speak to Xisuma, and vice versa.

When they reached the end of their museum tour, pausing in the aquarium section before they left, Xisuma bit the bullet.

“Mom,” he said, folding his hands behind his back. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Go ahead, dear.” She said absently, watching as a massive manta ray swam overhead.

Bathed in the blue light from the massive aquarium tank, she and Xenelis looked almost peaceful. Gods only knew how made Xen really was, however, and Xisuma knew that it was only a trick of the light. Or maybe it was a trick of the mind, him trying to convince himself that him leaving wouldn’t hurt them as much as he knew it would.

“…I’m leaving.” He said, turning to watch as the manta continued on its way. “They’re sending me on a mission to deep space.”

Her eyes closed momentary, steeling herself as she turned to him. “Deep space?”

“Past Centauri.” He said quietly. “They’re building a team of scientists and researchers to start colonizing a new planet.”

“Why so far away?” She asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“Mars can’t sustain a population like Earth’s, and after the Venus colonies failed… the galaxy isn’t suitable for life anymore. You know it’s true, mom. You’ve watched it happen. Think of how different things are now from when you were a kid.” His tone was soft, but he knew that there was a hint of pleading in there somewhere. She must understand. She wouldn’t be mad at him too, right?

“I know, I know, but… but of all people, why you?” Her voice broke, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.

Xisuma’s heart sank as he stepped forward, hugging her. “They couldn’t find anyone better to do it. Mom-“

“When will you come home?” She asked, her voice thick with tears.

“I don’t know.” Maybe never. “I… don’t know.”

She cried for a while, and her sons remained in silence, one other knowing what to say, and the other not wanting to say anything.

When she finally stopped, she only had positive things to say. She was proud of him, she was sure he was going to do great, they would be able to communicate, even if it wasn’t face to face… but that sorrow in her eyes that he had noticed before was much more prevalent.

Had she expected this?

Was he really as predictable as Xen said he was?

They said their goodbyes just outside the museum. His mother hugged him tightly, told him she would see him soon.

Xenelis’ eyes crinkled in what he knew was some form of a mocking smile or sneer. “I hope you have fun, Iz.”

“I’m not leaving right away. I’ll see you again.”

“That’s what you always say.” Xen retorted sharply, turning and rolling away towards the ramp down to the street, where their mother was already waiting.

Xisuma stood at the door to the museum and watched them get into a car and fade out of sight, his heart heavy in his chest.

Computer: New Command unlocked!

Computer: Input the command Profile: [Name] to open the file associated with that person. Please note: some files or portions of files may not be available due to clearance levels.

Computer: Input Command: Show Available Files:

> Open the Pilot’s File.

> Open the Doctor’s File.

> Continue.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

On Track

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Lee Minho

Genre: Married Life AU, Romance

Warnings: Smut and Language

Word Count: 11K

Summary: Despite her reputation, Y/N is considered one of the very best agents in the music industry. Of course, it doesn’t help that she married one of her clients---notoriously stubborn and arrogant Lee Minho AKA the extremely talented Lee Know whose silky voice and amazing choreographies appeal to an enormous fan-base. A pop singer who prefers to work alone, Y/N usually obliges Minho’s preferences...until her boss demands that he collaborate with the up-and-coming and multi-talented trio, 3racha.

Well, nobody ever said that married life is easy.

For: @hwngjn​

There’s a certain decorum involved with the management of arrogant pop singers who think the entire world revolves around their singular existence. In my experience, if you want to tame these wild inclinations, then it’s best to do one of the three things: 1) leave the company ASAP with a two-week notice and a heartfelt plea for a good recommendation, 2) tolerate the existence of this pop singer and hope that he matures with age, or 3) marry this pop singer because you fell in love without understanding the fraternization clause of your contract. 

Allow me to elaborate: options one and two will leave you with enough room to continue rising through the ranks without much conflict with upper management. You see, I have firsthand knowledge because I lived through the ensuing outcomes, leaving my first job at the tender age of 23 with very little knowledge and then arduously suffering at my next position with a female artist who insisted on testing my patience. But then again, if you choose to skip options one and two and pursue option three, then you better learn to live with the consequences because it will bring the most long-term effects.

Let me start from here because, for the most part, the consequences for me were fairly minimal. The record company was, of course, incensed when they found out about my unauthorized affair. Unfortunately, Minho liked to brag about the things he cherished, and he made no secret of our relationship outside of the company. I knew it was only a matter of time before the issue was brought to the attention of Mr. Park, the company’s CEO and head producer. 

I can still remember sitting in his big office, ignoring the lingering smell of smoke, while Mr. Park shoved my management contract in my face. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, to which I had no response other than my weakness for Minho’s cunning smile. “You’re done here,” he announced and my heart broke in my chest. 

Fortunately, before I could finish packing my belongings on the same afternoon, Minho had appeared at my desk with a very unhappy Mr. Park trailing behind him with an intense scowl. “Tell her,” Minho growled.

“Y/N,” he sighed. “You’ve been reinstated. Mr. Lee made a convincing argument on your behalf. Apparently, he can’t possibly work here and renew his contract without you as his manager.”

I remember glaring at Minho for his intervention, since our impromptu marriage was entirely his fault. “Thank you, sir.”

Thereafter, I was determined to do the best job I could as famed singer Lee Know’s manager, even if it meant facing scrutiny from jealous fans or bowing my head when I faced another agent in the hallways. I suppose I could deal with their scrutiny because it was better than the alternative of finding myself lounging away in Minho’s expensive condo unemployed and ruined because of my reputation. Even so, I was walking on thin glass everyday, and Minho continued to make things hard by insisting that he didn’t need to follow the rules, especially since he insisted on some one-sided feud with Mr. Park. 

For example, today Minho was scheduled for an interview with a very distinguished magazine, but my husband had decided to prioritize his never ceasing libido over regular responsibilities. “Hold still,” Minho said, smirking against the side of my neck while his hands made quick work of my skirt and panties, shoving them harshly down my legs to make room for his greedy touches. Inhibited access to the heat between my legs, presented to him in just the way he liked, meant that his fingers were currently teasing the swollen folds of my labia while I fell apart at the seams. 

I could tell that Minho wanted to take his time, but one glance at my wristwatch told me that we weren’t allowed such liberties today. “No, sir,” I said, reaching behind me to scratch my nails along his forearm. “You have an interview in ten minutes!”

“Relax,” he said, kissing delicately down the individual knobs of my spine. “I missed you today.”

“How romantic,” I deadpanned. “Can you hurry before the agency sends someone to look for us?”

As I said before, Minho was never the type to follow clear instructions, and he didn’t like the fact that his agency was rather strict when it came to scheduling. He liked to spite the men upstairs whenever an opportunity arose, such as prolonging needless foreplay when I was already dripping down my thighs because of his ministrations. I reached behind me for his belt, attempting to undo the zipper and release the erection straining the material.

“What’s your hurry, sweetheart?” he purred, knocking away my hand. 

“My job as your manager,” I returned, fervently trying to hasten our unexpected intimacy. 

“Well, as your favorite client, I suggest you bend over for me so I can fuck this little pussy.”

His words went straight to the tight coil offering no resistance the longer Minho continued to speak dirty words into my ears. “Did you lock the door?”

“Why? Are you expecting someone?”

I frowned, ready to offer a snarky retort before the words were wiped clean from my head when I felt the tip of his cock sink into my awaiting heat. “What was that, sweetheart?” he asked and I moaned loudly because he was suddenly intense with his movements, leaving no room to gather my bearings before he was fucking at a harsh pace.

Actually, in hindsight, I should’ve seen this coming when I met Minho in my office for the very first time. He walked in wearing a loose-fitting tank top and tight skinny jeans like he was attending a fraternity party instead of a company meeting. Minho’s steps were completely assured, sunglasses framing his face perfectly and standing out against the smooth tone of his skin. “Y/N?” he asked with a smirk.

“Miss Y/L/N,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “The agency assigned you to my care.”

“Really?” Minho asked, cocksure and smiling bright as he made himself comfortable on my futon without permission. “Miss, you say?”

“We go by professional titles, Mr. Lee,” I said, glaring at him from behind my computer screen. 

“Sure,” he dismissed, reaching for the flower vase on my coffee table. “How does this work exactly? You do whatever I ask, right?”

“Put the vase down and pay attention.”

Minho’s smile vanished at my tone. “What did you say?”

“Mr. Lee, the agency forewarned me about your...behavior. I must assure you that it won’t be tolerated because my job is to make sure that you do everything outlined in your contract. I’m sure you didn’t bother taking the time to read it, but there are certain things the company expects of you other than posting to your Twitter at 3:00 AM in the morning.”

I took a deep breath, satisfied that he appeared to be listening. “For example, the company expects your first album release this October. It’s my job to make sure you attend all recording sessions. Furthermore, promotions will be anticipated leading to the album’s delivery to applicable streaming platforms. That means interviews, photoshoots, award shows, and radio performances. Please understand that I’m one of the very best this agency has to offer, which means my clients demonstrate respect and high aptitude for their work and how it reflects on the company. From the moment you first stepped through that door, I knew that you lacked both of those capabilities.”

I stood up from my desk, walking around to the front to regard the man who suddenly found it difficult to look at me. “Here’s a warning, Mr. Lee. If you fail to adhere to my standards, then I won’t hesitate to ask the company to find you a new manager, understand?”

Minho scoffed, snatching his sunglasses away before nodding his head. “Fine.”

Satisfied, I reached behind me for the manila folder I prepared for his arrival. “Now, let’s review your schedule.”

Of course, that was two years ago and despite the whirlwind of mischievousness that encapsulated Minho, including several scandals, an endless barrage of paparazzi, and several intense arguments with upper management, I wouldn’t trade our relationship for anything else in the world. You see, I never counted on falling in love with an idol singer, but he managed to charm his way into my good graces with an irresistible smile and warm personality masked beneath his arrogant facade of indifference. He always brought a smile to my face, even in the midst of an intense orgasm bent over my desk as his cock hit deep inside. 

He fingers wrapped around my wrist, dragging my watch into his line of vision. “Two minutes, Y/N.”

I groaned in complaint, wondering how someone who graduated college with a flawless 4.0 GPA continuously broke company rules on a daily basis.

The following morning, I found myself crushed between several executives for an undisclosed company meeting. “Everyone!” Mr. Park announced. “I have exciting news for this year’s Christmas theme.”

A chorus of groans greeted his words. “Sir, I thought we were leaving the decision for the talent?” another agent spoke up.

“Yes, but I think this will work better for our core demographics,” Mr. Park said. “Y/N!”

I sat up straighter, attempting to look more alert than I felt inside. Unfortunately, Minho had kept me up all night in the small recording studio he built in our shared condo, asking me for continuous feedback on his latest project. “Sir?”

“Mr. Lee gave us a very interesting demo last week for a recent project.”

“Oh?”

“I’d like to make it a collaboration effort with our talent,” Mr. Park said and my heart seized in my chest because I knew firsthand just how much Minho despised working with other people. “3racha have landed their first platinum album. We need to capitalize on their success!”

“You want a collaboration between 3racha and Minho?” I asked, swallowing hard at the idea of telling my husband. 

“Exactly,” Mr. Park said with a smile. “For the music video, I was thinking we could also invite Hwang Hyunjin and Lee Felix to choreograph something for the project.”

“How...exciting?” I offered, cringing at my tone. Thankfully, Mr. Park was already addressing 3racha’s manager while I stared at my empty coffee mug and wondering if I would need more caffeine to survive.

Afterwards, Mr. Park adjourned our meeting and I returned to my office to find Minho waiting for me perched on the edge of my desk. “Sweetheart,” he greeted me, pulling me in by my waist to press a welcoming kiss to my pout. “You seem worried?”

I leaned back enough to meet his gaze. “You better promise me that you won’t get upset and scream.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “When have I ever done that?”

A million scenarios filtered through my mind before I decided to leave those memories in the past. “I just finished a company meeting.”

“Oh yeah?” he nodded, playing with the necklace resting against my collarbone. “What happened?”

I took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “Mr. Park had an... interesting suggestion.”

Minho glanced up and narrowed his eyes. “This doesn’t sound good.”

“He wants a collaboration,” I said, deciding to go for the killing blow before I could lose any more of my fading confidence. “The new demo you played for the company. He wants you to work with 3racha.”

Minho was quiet for a moment before he chuckled. “Really? Well, I don’t think so, sweetheart. You know how I feel about those things.”

I released an unsteady exhale. “It might be an opportunity?”

He shook his head. “You just march your cute little ass back into Park’s office and tell him I’m not interested.”

I groaned, pulling out of Minho’s arms to walk around my desk. “I have no power to tell Mr. Park anything.”

“Why not? You’re my manager!”

“Yeah, but he’s the head producer and owner,” I remarked, offering him an unimpressed look as I sat down to unlock my computer. “Besides, I think it’s a cool idea for the fans.”

Minho frowned. “Fuck, if I’m collaborating with anyone, then it’s gonna be Sam Smith or Post Malone.”

“As likely as that sounds,” I started with a dramatic sigh, “I think you should start small and work your way to the top.”

“But 3racha?” Minho grimaced. “Those fucking guys think they’re the absolute shit around here.”

“That sounds familiar.”

“Not funny,” Minho grumbled. “It’s my demo. I should be able to choose who I work with.”

“I think you’ve forgotten the fine print in your contract,” I said, reaching across the desk to offer his hand a gentle squeeze. “Please don’t make a big deal out of this. Can’t you make an exception...for me?”

Minho sighed, and I offered my absolute best pout in return.

“You’re lucky that I love you.”

Later that afternoon, I was surprised to meet Mr. Kim in the elevator on my way to the lobby. It was heavily rumored around the office that 3racha’s manager was notorious for locking himself away in the studio with his favorite clients. “Y/N,” he greeted me. “Are you busy?”

“Not really,” I said, holding up a folder. “I was bringing some files to Mr. Park.”

“Leave them with his secretary,” Mr. Kim insisted. “I thought it might be a good idea for you to meet my clients since we’ll be working together.”

“Minho is busy with an interview right now.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Mr Kim said. “Maybe it’s better if you talk to them first?”

I considered his offer, noting the disheveled appearance of his suit. “How long have you been trying to find me?”

“Does right now work for you?” he continued, pointedly ignoring my question.

“If you must insist,” I grumbled. “But they’ll have to meet at some point.”

“Yes, but I think we can delay the inevitable,” Mr. Kim said with a pointed look which I knew was directed at my husband.

“Fine.”

My easy agreement was met with a satisfied smirk to which I resisted the urge to remind Mr. Kim that I was only meeting his clients to make things easier for everyone involved in the collaboration. Of course, I had no room to talk down to my superiors and Mr. Kim’s credentials were practically golden compared to the minimal mark I had left on the company and its prolific talent. Instead, I let out a shaky exhale, wondering if it was too late to reconsider the fight I endured on a regular basis to keep my position with the company.

“Here we are,” Mr. Kim grinned. The elevator stopped on the top floor with a resounding alarm. “I think you’ll find my clients to be satisfactory.”

“In comparison to Minho, you mean?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as Mr. Kim urged me to follow him down a narrow hallway. I vaguely recognized our destination, but I usually never lingered around the studios.

“Did I say that?”

“It was implied,” I sighed, crossing my arms.

“Well, that wasn’t my intention, Y/N. You, of course, understand that nothing between us is personal?”

“We’re colleagues, Mr. Kim,” I replied. “That defines our relationship.”

“In that case...” he trailed off, pausing outside one of the doors. “I’m excited to work together.”

I rolled my eyes when he turned his back, but held my tongue as he reached for my hand to drag me inside the room. Immediately, my eyes were drawn to the plethora of monitors and screens dragging the walls of the entertainment studio. It reminded me of my early time as an intern during college, overwhelmed by the inner workings of the record company I was privileged to support, learning everything about the business. There was also a time, however briefly, when I first entered my current company as nothing more than an executive assistant for Mr. Kim who enjoyed reminding me of the fact, especially when his clients continued to eclipse mine in popularity. And that included the three men who offered us polite smiles when we interrupted their session. 

“Y/N,” Mr. Kim said, dragging me further into the room. “I thought it might be nice to formally offer introductions. I’d like you to meet Bang Chan, Han Jisung, and Seo Changbin.”

“I’m very excited,” I said, taking on a professional tone as I extended my hand to Chan. “My client is looking forward to your future collaboration.”

Chan accepted my outstretched hand, curling his fingers around mine. “Likewise.”

I withdrew my hand slowly, offering Jisung and Changbin a courteous nod. “Mr. Kim insisted that we meet today.”

“Yes,” Chan nodded. “But your client is noticeably absent.”

I swallowed hard as I met his gaze. “Minho is busy with an interview.”

“I see,” Chan remarked, taking a step back. “Well, 3racha is working until this evening. Perhaps Minho could join us here after his meeting.”

I turned around to look at Mr. Kim who only shrugged in response as if it hadn’t been his idea to keep Minho as far away as possible until necessary. I rolled my shoulders, schooling my expression as I gave Chan an airy laugh. “That only makes sense, doesn’t it? Let me send him a message.”

“In the meantime,” Changbin sighed from behind us. “We can continue with the recording.”

“Keep us updated, Y/N,” Chan said, returning to his work while I started on drafting a message for Minho.

To Minho: Tell me when your interview ends

“Y/N,” Mr. Kim cleared his throat. “I hope Minho’s schedule is cleared for tomorrow?

I raised one eyebrow in question. “Tomorrow?”

“We’d like to start the first recording session,” Chan replied. “Mr. Park played us some of Minho’s demo and we have some ideas for the track.”

“Oh,” I responded, completely out of my element when it came to the actual creation of music despite the many nights I spent with Minho in our home studio. “I’m sure we can make it work.”

“Perfect,” Mr. Kim declared, pulling out his cellphone with a grin. “I’ll make the arrangements on my end.”

Mr. Kim stepped out into the hallway, leaving me alone with his clients who were all watching me with barely concealed curiosity. “You know,” Chan started, “I’ve listened to Minho’s albums. He doesn’t seem like the type of person to write love songs.”

“He likes to experiment,” I said, blushing when I recalled the way he had intimately explained the meaning behind his new demo, but there was no way I was telling anyone that the song was about me. 

“Is he...open to criticism?” Jisung asked hesitantly.

“Why? Is there something wrong with the demo?”

“Of course not!” Jisung immediately corrected. “I just thought I’d ask because we have some cool suggestions to improve the overall quality. But I don’t know if Minho would listen.”

It was highly unlikely. “I’m sure he’s open for improvement,” I lied, wincing when I felt my phone vibrate from inside my pocket.

Minho: Call me.

“One second, gentlemen,” I said, cringing at my tone before escaping into the hallway. I held up my cell phone reluctantly, tapping on Minho’s contact name to place the call. He answered almost immediately. “Minho?”

“Sweetheart,” came his voice from the other end. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Yeah,” I said with a heavy exhale. “I’m with 3racha.”

He was silent on the other end for an uncomfortable duration. “Why?”

“Mr. Kim caught me on the way to Mr. Park’s office,” I said. “He insisted we meet.”

“Really? Are you having fun?”

I inwardly groaned at Minho’s tone, recognizing it as the same one he reserved when he was feeling particularly annoyed. “They want to meet you too.”

I was met with another long silence and then- “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

I paced outside the studio entrance, wondering if Minho had suddenly had a change of heart in the brief amount of time he had been notified of the collaboration project. After all, everything would be a lot easier if my husband wasn’t so stubborn, a perfectionist in every sense of the word who had trouble delegating work to other people, especially when he didn’t trust them. But for this to be successful, Minho would need to respect 3racha as capable artists who knew what they were doing when it came to creating hit singles.

“This feels more like an intervention,” Minho suddenly announced, trudging down the hallway and pulling me out of my foreboding thoughts.

“Then don’t give me a reason to be nervous,” I said, accepting his brief kiss before reaching out for the door handle. “Promise me you’ll behave?”

“I’ll try,” Minho grumbled, and that was the only confirmation I received before letting the literal beast into the jungle..

Chan was the first to realize Minho’s arrival, standing up from the couch to greet Minho with a professional smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Minho glared at Chan’s outstretched hand. “I’m not thrilled about this collaboration.”

I shook my head, resisting the urge to grab Minho’s hand and force him to feign politeness for once in his life. “Oh,” Chan said, retracting his arm. “I just thought we should get along since we’re working together.”

“A temporary arrangement,” Minho said, clicking his tongue as he turned around to look at me. “Y/N can handle the PR stuff.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” I quipped, trying to lighten the air even though Minho had more or less successfully generated enough tension to last a lifetime. 

“Mr. Lee, my clients were hoping to schedule a session tomorrow,” Mr. Kim said. “We’d like to start on the collaboration as soon as possible.”

“Sure,” Minho said, jaw clenching to betray that he wasn’t entirely happy. “I’d like to work quickly.”

A long, insufferable silence ensued while Minho took his time studying the three artists he was expected to share his newest creation. Finally, Mr. Kim interrupted the never-ending staring contest, flashing a forced smile. “Bring the demo with you, Mr. Lee, and anything else you’ve been working on.”

Minho nodded. “I’ve already finished most of the song.” I took a deep breath, waiting until Minho turned around to look at me. “I have something to do, so I’ll see you at home.”

I bowed my head, holding my tongue until the sound of the door closing broke whatever spell Minho had cast over our sullen group. “Pleasant isn’t he?” Changbin snorted.

“He’s just busy,” I tried to excuse, but the sentiment fell short and I suddenly had the desire to run down the hall with my arms flailing above my head.

I guess we can consider day one a complete and total failure.

Despite the awkward tension of Minho’s first meeting with 3racha, I was determined that the remainder of the collaboration would endure no further obstacles. Accordingly, I woke up early the next morning with every intention of playing the part of the mediator, which meant doing everything possible to improve Minho’s mood. For example, my husband was notorious for being intimidating at work, but he was nothing short of soft at home and I took advantage of his early-morning clinginess by surprising him with breakfast in bed and open arms without worrying about rushing through our usual routine. 

“You want something,” Minho said, one arm pulling me close to his chest while his other hand made busy work of his breakfast.

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

“In general? Maybe it’s the fact that we’re already twenty minutes behind schedule and you aren’t losing your shit.”

I opened one eye, watching him as he swallowed down the remainder of his orange juice. “I’m comfortable.”

“Really?” Minho snickered, looking down with a knowing glance. “Sweetheart, you’re usually pushing me out the door right about now.”

“Well, things have been hectic at the company, so I thought it might be nice to treat ourselves.”

“I assume you’re talking about my required collaboration with the three idiots,” Minho said. 

“I’m concerned,” I continued. “Minho, you hate working with the other artists, but this isn’t something we can just walk away from.”

“I understand,” Minho sighed. “I don’t want you to worry about me or the collaboration. I promise to be a good boy.”

I rolled my eyes at his tone. “That’s a great way to instill confidence.”

“They’re irritating,” Minho continued. “My inbox is full of messages and I hate email.”

“Welcome to the 21st century.”

“Are you sure Mr. Park wanted this?”

“Minho,” I said, slowly pulling myself out of his arms. “Stop thinking about the project like it’s some sort of punishment. Consider it an opportunity instead.”

“Please feel free to elaborate.”

“3racha are incredibly famous and they have a considerable fanbase,” I said. “When those fans hear your voice on the record, they might start paying more attention to your music.”

Minho exhaled, chest falling beneath my hands. “I see your point, but I don’t like it.”

“Nobody said you had to like it,” I reminded him. “Be nice to them.”

“What are you asking me to do?” my husband groaned, rolling over onto his stomach.

I quickly straddled his waist, working my fingers into the tense muscles of his shoulders. “I know you don’t like the collaboration, but it won’t last forever and then you can go back to working on your solo projects.”

“I guess, but only if you come to all the recording sessions.”

I grinned triumphantly, even if it was only one victory in a long history of tedious arguments with my stubborn husband. 

Mr. Kim was a very impatient man, and I was only somewhat surprised to see him standing by the main entrance when we finally arrived at the company.  “Minho, you needed to be in the recording studio...” he trailed off, glancing at his wristwatch with a frown. “Ten minutes ago.”

My husband scoffed. “I don’t work on your time, Mr. Kim.”

“We had a late start,” I intervened. “I’ll make sure he gets there soon, Mr. Kim.”

The older man grunted, clearly displeased with Minho’s behavior. Thankfully, Minho had the decency to wait until he was well out of hearing range before further disparaging Mr. Kim’s character. “Sweetheart, I’m doing this for you,” Minho said, glaring over my shoulder at Mr. Kim’s retreating form. “But I don’t appreciate being told what to do.”

“That’s how he is,” I said. “I used to work for him as an assistant. He was always keeping everyone busy. Time wasted is money lost.”

Minho snickered at my poor imitation of Mr. Kim’s accent. “I’d kick his skinny ass if I was any less patient.”

I resisted the urge to laugh at Minho’s “restraint” because my husband was notorious for acting without consideration for the consequences. “Don’t be late for your first recording session.”

Minho pouted, looking down at me with wide, brown eyes. “You aren’t coming?”

“I’ll be there soon,” I promised him with a quick kiss. “I have something to do first.”

Minho was hesitant to leave me behind, but I offered him another encouraging kiss before retreating in the opposite direction to my office. It seemed that I would need reinforcements for this particular occasion, and I knew there were only two men who I could force to help me. As such, I found Jeongin and Seungmin loitering around their desks, passing back and forth what appeared to be a paper airplane. “I wasn’t aware I made any prior aviation requests.”

Jeongin let out a small whine, quickly disposing of the distraction in the bin next to his desk. “Sorry, Mrs. Lee.”

“Look, I’m actually in a hurry today and there’s too much going on for me to handle your hijinks,” I said, beckoning the interns to follow me into my office. “I have an important assignment for you.”

“Of course!” Seungmin agreed, walking ahead to grab the door. “Whatever you need, Mrs. Lee.”

“It’s about Minho.”

“Lee Minho?”

I turned around to glare at Jeongin. “Who else? Or did I receive notice of another client with the same name?”

Jeongin shook his head furiously. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Lee. It’s just...”

“Minho has a history with interns,” Seungmin finished. “And maybe people in general.”

I laughed at their suggestions. “You’ll be with me the entire time, alright?”

They both visibly relaxed. “So we don’t have to help him?”

“Not directly,” I affirmed, moving around my desk. “Sit down, boys.” They both complied quickly, looking up at me with wide and innocent eyes that reminded me of my days in university. “Minho and 3racha have a recording session scheduled for this afternoon.”

Jeongin squealed from his chair. “The 3racha! I love their music! Oh, do you think it’d be too much to ask for an autograph?”

Upon seeing my glare, Jeongin quickly apologized. “Would it be too much to resist that urge, Mr. Yang?”

The younger boy sighed. “Sorry, Mrs. Lee.”

“Anyway,” I continued, ignoring their antics. “I have your assignments.”

Seungmin leaned forward expectantly. “Whatever you need, Mrs. Lee!”

“Your job,” I said, glancing back and forth between Jeongin and Seungmin, “is to make sure that Minho doesn’t piss off 3racha.”

“How?” Jeongin asked with sad eyes that almost forced me to change my mind on the spot.

“Just make sure you’re at their recording sessions with me,” I said. “Intervene whenever it seems like they might argue.”

“Intervene?”

I sighed impatiently. “I don’t know, improvise or something, but nothing bad needs to happen or Mr. Park will chew my ass out for disrupting a perfectly good collaboration opportunity.”

Seungmin and Jeongin looked at each other before sighing in defeat. “Does this mean we’ll be getting a raise?”

Here’s the thing about my job: despite Minho’s insistence, he was not the only client I represented. For example, I was also currently working on the debut of a new boy group who were incredibly talented and highly charismatic. They were also obedient and respectful, doing whatever they could to make my job easier even though I never asked them to sacrifice their free-time to practice their dancing and singing. When I worked with their leader, I couldn’t help but think that my job was considerably easier in comparison to the extra effort sometimes required to fix Minho’s mistakes, like the time he showed up an hour late for an interview because I forgot to set the alarm in our bedroom. Nonetheless, it always seemed like I was doing something extra to remedy Minho’s abrasive nature, which explains why I was prepared to sacrifice two of the company’s interns for the betterment of the future.

“Are you ready?” I asked the younger boys, lingering by the doorway to the studio.

Seungmin managed a nod while Jeongin murmured something that I decided to interpret as his approval. I knocked on the door expectantly, slightly relieved when Minho greeted me on the other side. “There you are,” he said. “We couldn’t possibly start without you.”

I rolled my eyes, but followed him inside with my interns hot on my heels. Minho retired to the couch, hunched over his laptop as he worked with a frown. Meanwhile, Chan, Jisung, and Changbin were busy adjusting the sound equipment while Mr. Kim watched his clients with eager eyes.

“Stay here,” I said to my nervous interns before joining Minho on the couch. “Do you actually plan to help them?”

“Believe it or not, Y/N,” Minho said. “I’m not actually procrastinating...just putting the finishing touches on the initial demo.”

He lifted one of the earbuds, offering it to me with a grin. “Are you trying to ask me something?”

Minho scoffed. “Will you please listen to my finished demo?”

I snatched the earbud from him in response, plugging my right ear and blocking out the lingering noise from the studio. The soft cadence of the piano started to play from the computer, shortly followed by Minho’s familiar breathy vocals that never ceased to amaze me. My husband was gifted with a profoundly gorgeous voice that could reach high notes that even I would struggle to obtain.

“My voice sounds angelic, wouldn’t you agree?” Minho asked.

“I see your ego has somehow managed to grow overnight.”

Minho chuckled, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to my lips. “Don’t worry, I don't intend to sabotage the collaboration...I worked too hard on this demo.”

“I guess we can start then,” I said, stretching my arms high above my head as I waited for Minho to eject his flash drive. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Jisung approaching the two of us with a hesitant smile. “Good morning, Jisung,” I said, nudging Minho when he continued to remain silent.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said, holding up the flashdrive. “I prepared most of the song.”

“Really?” Jisung questioned, accepting the device from Minho. “I’d like to listen.”

Jisung returned to the sound booth and Chan accepted the flash drive with a brief glance over his shoulder at Minho. My husband remained silent while Chan opened the corresponding file on the computer and everyone listened with admirable concentration while Minho’s sweet music and tender voice filled the empty studio space.

“It’s good,” Changbin acknowledged at the end, even though his tone was somewhat reluctant.

“Good enough on its own,” Minho muttered and I shot him a warning look. “Fine,” he begrudged. “I have some ideas on the arrangements.”

“Sure,” Chan nodded, leaning back against the sound booth. 

“We can split up the parts,” Minho continued. “I’ll handle the chorus.”

“I see,” Chan acknowledged. “I guess that means you want us to take the verses?”

“Logical, isn’t it?” Minho snarked. “I suppose you can add a rap verse or two since that’s your...thing.”

“I could try and sing as well,” Jisung offered. “We could harmonize over the final chorus.”

“You sing?” Minho snorted. “I thought you were a rap group.”

“Does that automatically disqualify us from being singers?” Changbin asked gruffly.

“Of course not!” I interfered, inserting myself effectively between Minho and Changbin. “I’ve heard some of your vocal work and it’s absolutely beautiful.”

Minho grumbled something indecipherable under his breath from behind me, but I ignored him and continued to do my absolute best to ensure the recording session progressed as smoothly as possible. “I hope you don’t mind, but my interns will also be joining us today for their field work.”

“That’s fine with me,” Chan spoke up from his position behind the sound station. “Should we start with finalizing arrangements?”

I ushered Minho forward whose expression revealed his reluctance. However, since he was on his best behavior, Minho started conversing with Chan and the others about arranging the vocals and rap verses for the song. In return, I sat down on the couch with my interns since I wasn’t skilled enough to comprehend their impressive knowledge of song production. I knew Mr. Kim was also quite unfamiliar with their vernacular, but the proud man continued to linger around the artists as if he could possibly offer something beneficial to the professionals.

I scoffed at the idea, turning to look at Seungmin who was busy playing some sort of application on his phone. “Is this your way of doing a good job?”

He jumped at the sound of my voice, closing out of his game before shoving his phone back into his pocket. “I’m paying attention!”

From my other side, Jeongin sighed happily. “Han has the best voice.”

I tried not to laugh at Jeongin’s starstruck expression, especially since Han Jisung was a very impressive vocalist, singing Minho’s lyrics like they had come from his own imagination. “He’s quite talented,” I agreed, studying my husband to try and determine if he also shared the same opinion.

But Minho was difficult to read when he was focused on his music. He never spoke during Han’s performance, waiting until the younger boy was finished before addressing him expectantly from the recording booth. Minho sighed, pressing the button to allow him to speak directly to Jisung. “It was alright for a rapper.”

I resisted the urge to bang my head against the wall as Jisung glowered at Minho. “I’m not just a rapper.”

“The tone isn’t right,” Minho carried on as if Jisung hadn’t spoken, “we need tighter vocals.”

“My vocals are fine!” Jisung bristled and I shoved at Jeongin’s arm who immediately jumped into action. The younger intern stood up abruptly, the unexpected action commanding the attention of the entire studio...

“Who wants coffee!”

I sighed at his dramatics, but it was a decent distraction. “Why not?” Chan asked, reclining back in his chair. “It seems like we have a lot of work to do.”

Sadly, truer words had never been spoken.

Graciously, Minho managed to keep his more radical opinions to himself for the remainder of our scheduled recording sessions with 3racha. Of course, my husband always had his ways of insinuating an insult through carefully chosen words. Nonetheless, I think all parties involved knew it would be to everyone’s benefit if we finished recording the new song without arguing about Minho’s dismissive comments. 

In any case, Mr. Park was thrilled with the final result, inviting me and Mr. Kim to his office after listening to the finished product. “This is exactly what I envisioned,” he said with a bright smile. “The fans will love this!”

“It was a process, sir,” I admitted, sheepishly offering Mr. Kim what I hoped was a sincere apology.

“I’ve scheduled a shooting day for the music video,” Mr. Park said. “I have the perfect concept for the song!”

“I’m sure it’s brilliant, sir,” Mr. Kim added.

“Lee Felix and Hwang Hyunjin have agreed to choreograph the track,” Mr. Park said. “They have some very interesting ideas for your clients.”

It was only then when I remembered that Minho liked to arrange his own dances, but since we were already this far into the collaboration, he might reluctantly agree once more. “We’ll be there,” I reassured my boss.

Unfortunately, I knew it would be a horrible shooting day when I walked outside with Minho and saw a gray sky and light misting of rain. “This is already a mess,” I said, dragging my still sleepy husband to the car. 

“How long will this take?” Minho grumbled.

“If you’re willing to cooperate,” I said, fixing him with a stern glance, “then I’d imagine we can finish by this evening.”

Minho yawned. “I hate music video shoots.”

“You poor thing,” I sighed. “Whenever you finally decide to become a director, then I’m certain you’ll insist on controlling that aspect of music production as well.”

“I feel like you understand my vision, Y/N,” Minho said with an airy laugh. “I’m too tired to argue today.”

I exhaled a sigh of relief, hoping that he was being honest. “Mr. Park invited the company’s best choreographers. Please don’t insist on doing your own performance.”

“As long as they won’t have me doing anything less than artistic,” Minho said. “We should be fine.”

I chose not to take my husband’s words to heart as we drove to the shooting sight together in silence. It had started to steadily rain the longer we drove, and I had a feeling that the sky itself was foreshadowing the impending breakdown threatening to destroy all the progress we made. But I was also an optimist, and Minho was usually the least abrasive when it came to shooting music videos.

I parked my car next to the company’s van, watching a few regular staff members unload equipment from the back. “Y/N, it’s not too late for us to drive to that adorable little breakfast restaurant we like so much,” Minho reminded me.

“Shoot the video and I’ll treat you to a gourmet dinner,” I said, reaching across the console to squeeze my husband’s hand. 

He was still reluctant, but I was proud when he reached into the backseat for our umbrella. We stood close together, Minho’s hand firm around my waist. In the distance, I easily found Mr. Kim talking with his clients as they fought to stay dry under one of the company’s tents.

Mr. Kim saw me first, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Y/N, you’ve decided to keep us waiting again.”

“Blame it on the weather,” I said, closing the umbrella as Minho wandered over to talk with one of the directors.

“Oh! You mean the rain pushing us into a delay? I guess I didn’t notice,” Mr. Kim returned, rolling his eyes as he led me further into the crowd of people. I faintly recognized the younger men dressed in gorgeous outfits, recalling their appearance in various music videos from some of the company’s most distinguished artists. “Y/N,” Mr. Kim smiled. “I’d like you to meet Lee Felix and Hwang Hyunjin. They have some excellent suggestions for the music video.”

“The honor is mine,” I said, bowing respectfully to Felix and Hyunjin. “Minho is eager to work with you.”

Felix smirked. “You don’t have to lie to us, Mrs. Lee. We know your husband prefers to work alone.”

“Ah,” I murmured. “His reputation precedes him.”

“I hope he can appreciate our efforts,” Hyunjin added. “Felix and I have been working on some new choreography for the track.”

“He’s being compliant today,” I said. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate everything you’ve done.”

“There isn’t much of a choice,” Mr. Kim said, startling when the director attempted to speak over the white-noise of the tent’s occupants.

“Attention! We’re starting inside the school for the first scene.”

I met Minho’s eyes over the crowd of moving staff, nodding for him to obey the director’s command. “What’s the concept, Mr. Kim?”

“Friends-to-lovers?” Mr. Kim shrugged. “Your pretty husband is the main character, which I’m sure will please him greatly.”

“It’s a high school setting?”

“Yes, and he has a crush on a school girl,” Mr. Kim said. “You should know this very well, Mrs. Lee, didn’t he seduce you in the same way?”

I ignored his jab. “And 3racha?”

“Protective friends, I guess,” Mr. Kim said. “The director assured me that it wouldn’t take long to film.”

“I hope not,” I said. “The less Minho has to be here, the better.”

“Cut!” the director growled. “Mr. Lee, this is not the same choreography that we discussed with Felix and Hyunjin.”

“I tried to improvise,” my husband defended himself.

There were less than two scenes left to film and I was very close to dragging Minho away from the film shooting and knocking some sense into him. “Follow the script we discussed,” the director said. “Let’s take five.”

Chan glared at Minho as he snatched a bottle of water from the snack table. “Is it too much to ask you to cooperate, Minho?”

My husband ignored Chan, pausing in front of me to bring his forehead against mine. “I’m tired.”

I shot Chan an apologetic smile as I smoothed my hands through Minho’s hair. “I’m sorry.”

He pulled back to look at Chan who was engrossed in conversation with Jisung and Changbin. “He’s impossible to work with.”

“What’s wrong now?” I sighed, feeling another impending headache courtesy of Minho’s behavior.

“I hate Bang Chan,” Minho said. “He keeps looking at your ass.”

“Who cares?” I nearly shouted, attracting the attention of a few camera workers. “Minho, the shooting is almost over. Please, for the sake of my mental sanity, can you try to listen to the director?”

Minho’s eyes betrayed his exhaustion. “I want greasy food for dinner and a cheesy movie when I get home.”

I laughed, amused by Minho’s behavior. “Whatever you want.”

“Minho!” the director yelled. “We need you back on set.”

Minho closed his eyes and sighed. “He’s lucky I’m a professional.”

I was lingering by the snack table, picking my way through the bowl of skittles because I only liked the red kind, when I heard the unexpected sound of yelling from somewhere inside the school. My husband’s voice was easy to detect about the noise, and I stuffed a handful of candies into my mouth before deciding to investigate. As much as I’d like to imagine that the yelling was a part of the music video, common sense told me that my husband had likely gotten into another confrontation with the director.

However, the last thing I expected to see was Minho marching through the open doors of the school with Chan following him with clear annoyance. “I’m telling you it’s not good enough,” Chan said, frowning when Minho stopped by my side.

“I don’t want to film it again,” Minho said. “Besides, your reaction was genuine. The best ‘acting’ you’ve done all day.”

“What’s going on?” I demanded.

“Nothing,” Minho said, glaring at Chan as he reached for my hand. “The collaboration required a song and we have a finished copy and a music video. I’ve done my part, so if you’ll kindly excuse my wife and I...”

Chan shook his head. “Do whatever you want, Minho. I don’t care anymore.... But the sad part in all of this is how much I was sincerely excited to work with you, despite your reputation.”

Minho seemed at a loss for words, glancing back and forth between me and Chan. “I can’t share your sentiment, Chan,” he finally said. “I think it’s best if we make this a one time thing.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Chan agreed with a disappointed sigh.

I could only helplessly stand aside as the two bickered, wondering if it was too late to formally retire.

Sunday was the only day of the week where I could actually enjoy myself without having to worry about the company or the never-ending demands of my clients, with the exception of my husband. “Y/N,” Minho slurred from next to me in our bed.

I made a vague noise of recognition, pulling the blankets closer to my chin because it was too cold in the apartment. “What?”

“Your phone is vibrating,” Minho said, and I managed to crane my head back just enough to realize that he was right.

I reached out my hand to feel for the stupid thing on the nightstand, pulling it close enough to read the message displayed across the screen:

From Mr. Kim: Mr. Park planned some sort of elaborate interview/performance for the new collaboration. Make sure Minho is at the company tomorrow by noon.

“Who is it?” Minho asked, using one arm to drag me closer to his welcoming heat.

“Mr. Kim,” I murmured in return.

“Why?” Minho growled.

“Apparently, you have an interview with 3racha tomorrow. Mr. Park wants a live performance for the debut of the collaboration.”

“I thought I was done with them,” Minho said with a tone that suggested he was anything but pleased with the news.

“It’s just one performance,” I argued. “And you promised me that you would finish all your responsibilities.”

“You keep adding more things,” Minho gruffed.

I smirked, rolling onto my side to face my husband. “I think it’s a great idea to let the fans hear it live on the same day it starts streaming.”

“Can’t they just play the recording of my parts?”

“It won’t be the same,” I said, leaning in closer to brush my lips across the seam of his pout. “I’ll be the loudest fan screaming your name from the back.”

He chuckled, allowing one hand to pull me in closer. “Aren’t you always my biggest fan?”

“Lee Know, will you sign my albums?”

“You’re a good negotiator, sweetheart,” he said, diving in for a passionate kiss that reminded me of when we first started dating and Minho was always eager to shower me with affection. 

“Minho,” I gasped, barely restraining a moan when he suddenly moved between my thighs.

“I’m sorry I’ve made things difficult,” he said, pressing sweet kisses to the skin around my calves. Tender moments like this reminded me of the person I fell in love with, slowly learning that there was more to Minho than his arrogant stage persona. 

“Please,” I whispered, helping him remove my sweatpants before weaving my fingers through his hair.

“Anything for you,” Minho said, breath hot against my sensitive skin. He stuck out his tongue, tasting the heat between my legs with languid strokes that promised the best wake-up call to start the day. Not that Minho and I did anything substantial on Sundays since we preferred to watch movies and indulge in the glorious high of junk food.

More often than not, we always ended up in this position with my husband doing his best to please me. And I had no room to complain because Minho was awfully talented with his tongue, and he had me writhing against the mattress like a complete mess. “You’re too good at this,” I complained halfheartedly.

His nails dug into my hips, holding me in place while he continued to drive me over the edge. “Are you going to cum for me?”

I always broke at his husky tone, lying spent in my post-orgasmic haze as Minho feathered light kisses across my legs. In moments like this, it was impossible to think about the negative aspects of working for the company, or the drama of the collaboration. Besides, it was only one more day and Minho never broke his promises.

I found a strange, but calming quality to pacing back and forth when I came across a problem that was incredibly difficult to solve. For example, arriving at the office early to prepare last minute forms while fully expecting my husband to show up to his scheduled interview and performance without my intervention. Yet, despite my expectations, I was currently backstage with Mr. Kim and his clients while we listened to a crowd of eager fans waiting to hear the new collaboration. Unfortunately, my husband was nowhere to be seen, and that meant our schedule was in jeopardy.

“Where’s Minho?” Mr. Kim nearly screeched, raking his hands through his balding hair while remaining heavily engrossed in his phone screen.

The performance was supposed to start ten minutes ago and the fans were clearly confused. A distinct murmuring of intermingled voices echoing throughout the soundless concert hall. “Y/N?”

I turned around, using every last ounce of strength I could muster to meet Chan’s gaze. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Is that so?” Chan asked, and the anger in his eyes was enough to nearly give me a premature heart attack.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, desperately ringing Minho’s number once again only to be met by the familiar greeting of his voicemail inbox.

“I knew that bastard would ruin this,” Changbin said. “He was determined from the start to see this fail.”

“It was one performance,” Jisung bemoaned, and I could only feel absolutely miserable listening to their shared complaints. But, in the words of my formidable boss, the show must go on and I couldn’t bear to disappoint the eager fans waiting to hear the song they loved.

Speaking of which, I reached out a hand to support myself against the wall when I saw Mr. Park walk backstage with his assistants. Our eyes met from across the room. “Mr. Park,” I managed, but my throat was suddenly dry despite the three empty bottles of water I had consumed.

“Y/N,” Mr. Park sighed, eliminating the distance between us. “Tell them to have 3racha perform without Minho. Our phone conversation today has certainly changed my mind about the viability of his collaboration.”

“You talked to him?” I growled, feeling nothing short of betrayed since my husband had repeatedly ignored my phone calls.

“We’ve reached an impasse,” Mr. Park explained solemnly. “Please tell Mr. Kim about the change.”

“But sir!” I tried to protest because I was extremely confused and had no idea what we needed to tell the fans.

However, Mr. Park was already focused on a new task and instead of delaying the inevitable, I found Mr. Kim talking urgently to a stage hand next to the curtain. “Introduce 3racha,” I said. “Tell them that Minho had an unexpected emergency.”

Mr. Kim, if it was even possible, grew even redder to the point where I hesitated to call for help backstage. “This is an outrage!” he finally growled, crowding me against the wall. “If this goes wrong, then I hope you know that it’s entirely your husband’s fault and his mistakes reflect poorly on your performance.

I bowed my head, because I knew that part of the blame rested on my shoulders as Minho’s manager, especially in regard to the mysterious phone call he shared with Mr. Park. In the meantime, I could hear the crowd cheer for the arrival of 3racha who performed to the best of their ability without my husband. Still, it broke my heart to know that he had somehow been excused from the performance after promising to complete the remainder of his responsibilities. 

But I still wanted to give Minho the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps something happened when I left for the company and he was forced to call Mr. Park? Still, my optimism didn’t stop my hands from shaking from my grip around the steering wheel, pulling into my usual parking spot with a heavy sigh. Before our marriage, there were plenty of times when Minho tested my patience. For example, on multiple occasions I had come very close to handing in my request to have him transferred to someone else because he was sometimes impossible to handle. However, each time I would threaten to leave, Minho always convinced me to stay, turning his entire attitude around and doing his best to make up for his mistakes. He was usually successful, but today’s mishap forced me to question whether or not he was capable of recovering from this unexpected slight. And it wouldn’t just jeopardize my relationship with him as his manager, but also the close intimacy I shared with him as his wife.

I paused at the door to our apartment, trying to listen for any sound of movement from inside. “He’ll have a good excuse,” I attempted to justify, unlocking the door before dragging my feet into the entryway. “Minho?” I called out, greeting nothing but silence before I walked downstairs to his studio where Minho often liked to escape when he wanted to be alone.

I was surprised to see him inside, working on his computer as if today was just another ordinary session. “Minho,” I snapped, opening the door without bothering to knock. “We need to talk.”

Minho sighed, glancing away from his computer screen. “I know Mr. Park cancelled my performance.”

“Yeah? And you don’t think that there’s something wrong!”

“Y/N, don’t worry about the interview,” he replied. “Park called me earlier and told me he would take care of everything.”

I slowly exhaled. “I know he called you, but I don’t understand why it happened.”

“He said it wouldn’t be the last time I was involved with marketing,” Minho continued. “I told him I was under the impression that today would be the last performance. We argued for a while and he told me that I shouldn’t bother showing up today if I wasn’t committed to the project.”

I blinked twice, trying to process his words. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, barely restraining the anger. “I called you several times before Mr. Park showed up backstage.”

“I knew you’d be disappointed,” Minho said with a vulnerable tone I could hardly tolerate. “It’s not a big deal. Park knows about everything, and tomorrow we can forget about the collaboration.”

He looked at me like he was expecting me to just agree with him, but I was beyond words. Instead, I turned my back to him and retreated upstairs to our bedroom. I had fought with my husband before, but this was an entirely new level of anger and frustration.

I could hear Minho following me, but I refused to acknowledge his attempts to gain my attention. “You’re an asshole sometimes,” I growled, storming around the bedroom to find a spare set of sheets in the closet. “Let me know when you’re done being the world’s biggest jerk.”

“What are you doing?” Minho asked, blocking my path to the doorway. “We’re not done talking about this if you’re upset.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m done and you don’t always get your way,” I snapped, pushing past my husband into the living room.

“Y/N,” Minho said, reaching for my arm despite my attempts to ignore him. “I’m sorry.”

“No you aren’t,” I said, spinning around on my heel to confront him. “If you were sorry, then you’d try to make things right, but your ego has grown to such a monumental size that you can’t even accept the added weight of another mistake.”

“What are you saying?”

“You can’t make this right,” I said, tears obscuring the vision of my husband. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Sweetheart,” he said, expression transforming completely when he realized I was truly on the verge of a breakdown. “You know I’m not mad at you! Park knows everything, he was the one who told me not to show up!”

“It doesn’t matter,” I cried. “I asked you to do something that’s surprisingly simple for most people. Not because I wanted to punish you, but because I saw an opportunity to help Lee Know! But after the stunt you pulled today, I don’t think I’d bother helping you anymore.”

The single tear that fell from Minho’s eye would have normally been enough for me to recognize his guilt, but I wasn’t in the mood to fall back into the tedious cycle of forgiving him only to deal with another mishap in the future. “Y/N,” he said softly. “Please don’t leave me.”

I shook my head. “I need some time to think about things.”

“What do you mean?” he asked with a desperate tone. “We should talk about this, I can make it better!”

“Just let me sleep,” I begged him and he broke even more, releasing my hand with an uncharacteristic whine.

I tossed my blanket onto the couch, attempting to find a comfortable position on the leather. It was a far cry from the mattress in our bedroom, but I desperately needed space away from Minho. For now, I didn’t want to deal with the reality of our situation, which is why I was more than willing to drown myself in the familiar darkness of sleep.

The smell of bacon was surprisingly overwhelming when I woke up the next morning with lower back pain. I groaned, attempting to sit up despite the near constant throbbing. Apparently, leather sofas were built for style instead of comfort.

I opened my eyes slowly, feeling my heart jump inside my chest when I saw Minho holding a plate in my direction. “Y/N, are you okay?”

I swiped a hand across my face, remembering my argument with Minho from the previous evening. “I’m fine.”

“You should eat,” he insisted so I accepted the plate from him, shaking my head when I realized the toast was burnt, but Minho had never been a great cook. “I want to talk about last night,” Minho said. “Because you’re obviously hurt and that’s the last thing I wanted.”

“What did you expect?” I asked. “You weren’t there for the performance, you ignored my calls, and then my boss tells me that one of his artists decided he was done promoting his new single?”

Minho winced at my tone. “It’s all my fault because I decided to take everything personally. He forced me to do the collaboration when I didn’t want to participate, and it felt like he was taunting me...like I had no control over my music and he could do whatever he wanted.”

“He can, Minho,” I said. “You signed a contract with the company.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I keep forgetting that part, and it’s really stupid how much I let it affect me, but I hate it when things are out of my control.”

“But that’s no reason to take it on the people who were only trying to do their job,” I snapped. “Or refuse to tell your own wife!”

“I understand,” Minho nodded. “I was too caught up in my problems to realize that everyone was suffering because of my decisions.”

“What are you going to do about it?” I asked, holding my breath because I was dreading his answer.

“I’ll apologize to them,” Minho said, hanging his head in shame. “I need you to know that I’m sorry for everything.”

My heart broke at the sorrowful expression he wore, completely uncharacteristic of my husband...as was his decision to apologize since I halfway expected Minho to threaten his leave from the company. However, I also sometimes forgot that Minho was more than the way he acted around other people, and his sincerity was perfectly evident for me to recognize. “I know you are, but sometimes you do things without thinking about the consequences.”

“I’m aware,” he chuckled. “And I usually don’t really care, but that’s selfish...especially when it hurts you.”

“It is selfish,” I agreed. “How do I know you won’t do this again in the future?”

“Because I’ll remind myself of this moment,” he said. “I’ll remember what happened last night and do whatever I can to prevent it from happening again.”

I was stunned by his determination. “Are you really going to apologize to everyone?”

“I am,” he nodded. “Of course, your forgiveness matters the most.”

I took a deep breath, processing his words and the steady way he continued to hold my gaze. “You know I forgive you.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly, leaning in to press a chaste kiss against my lips. “I need you more than anything else in the world.”

My heart warmed at his declaration. “I wonder what everyone at the company would think if they saw how cheesy you are.”

“Are you going to tell on me?”

“Not as long as you behave,” I returned, laughing at the way he held me tighter, feeling nothing short of safe and secure in his familiar embrace.

Mr. Kim was surprisingly calm when I requested a meeting between our clients. In fact, I was shocked that he even accommodated my request considering our bad relations. However, I recognized an opening, walking down the hallway next to Minho who was clearly nervous as he hugged the bottle of champagne we brought as an apology gift.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Mr. Kim greeted us upon our arrival, sparing Minho a grimace before inviting us inside the studio.

Chan and Jisung were sitting together on the couch, glancing up only when Minho paused in front of them. Meanwhile, Changbin stood against the wall, watching my husband with narrowed eyes. Minho held tightly to the bottle of champagne in his hands, glancing between the three men who all wore similar expressions of disdain. “I’m sorry for the interview,” he said. “It was really selfish and immature.”

Chan arched one eyebrow, glancing between me and Minho. “Really?”

I quietly offered Minho a small push against his lower back, encouraging him to continue. “I rehearsed this,” Minho chuckled, “but it’s hard to swallow my pride.”

“Take your time,” I whispered to him softly.

“Well, let me start by saying that I was wrong about the whole collaboration thing,” he said. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be and you guys did everything to help us succeed.”

Changbin scoffed. “You certainly made it more difficult.”

Jisung nodded furiously in agreement. “I don’t think I’ve ever had this much trouble with promotion.”

“I know,” Minho agreed. “I was just upset because I have this stupid thing with Park and he knows that I have...problems working with other people.”

“That’s an understatement,” Changbin said, glowering at my husband with obvious disapproval.

“Honestly,” Minho said, swallowing hard. “The song is one of my favorites. I wouldn’t mind collaborating again in the future.”

“Well-” Jising broke off, staring at Mino with something akin to shock. “Huh?”

Chan frowned. “You really made us look bad on stage.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” Minho sighed. “I was being an enormous jerk, trying to stick it to the man or something ridiculous and it played out better in my head.”

I reached out a comforting hand, squeezing Minho’s shoulder for support. “I think he knows his decision was wrong.”

Minho nodded. “You might be upset with me and I understand. I’m sorry for everything that happened, and if you decide I don’t deserve to be taken seriously, then I won’t blame you.”

Minho ended his speech with a nervous cough, thrusting out the bottle of champagne in Jisung’s direction who accepted the bottle hesitantly. “Minho,” Chan said, closing his laptop with a sigh. “I know about your history when it comes to working with other artists.”

“It’s not exactly a glowing resume,” Minho admitted.

“No, but that’s the only reason why I know that your apology was sincere,” Chan said. “If you’re really serious, then I think we can move past this.”

Changbin nodded his agreement. “Mr. Park also explained some of the...politics behind the interview fiasco.”

“I guess it’s hard for you,” Chan shrugged. “I’m glad you came here to make things right.”

“And the champagne is nice,” Jisung added quickly to which Minho managed a smile.

“I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you.”

“Well, if you were serious about collaborating again, we can start with line distributions,” Changbin said, leaning in with a smirk. “I want to sing next time.”

Minho laughed, nodding enthusiastically. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“In that case, we have cause for celebration,” Jisung cheered. “Mr. Kim, do we have spare glasses?”

In the meantime, I took a step back to allow the four men space to talk together, distributing several glasses of champagne before laughing at Jisung’s failed attempt not to spill anything on the carpet. It was certainly admirable, and I found myself simply watching Minho from across the room. This was nothing short of substantial progress, and I cherished the moment because it promised very good things for the future.

And at one point, Minho snuck away from his new collaborators to join me at the sound booth. “I love you,” he whispered. “I’m glad you’ve always been at my side.”

I reached out for his hand, watching Chan, Changbin, and Jisung hold up their champagne glasses in our direction. “You know? I’m really excited about your next project.”

Minho grinned, leaning his forehead against mine. “I think I could get used to this...as long as you’ll be there.”

I sighed happily, closing my eyes to remember this moment. “That will never change.”

[adinosaurnamedmittens]

Alright so I can’t stop thinking of RVB Zero and how much potential it has so I wanna rework it a bit to work better.

So first I’m gonna talk about the new characters and what I’d change before breaking down the individual episodes for critique and suggested rewrites. At this point, I’ve only seen up to episode 4, Encounter. So spoilers till that ep. 

West - Honestly great! He doesn’t have a ton of character, but what he has is solid. He works very well as the gruff, no-nonsense leader who’s a tiny bit of a dad.

Raymond - Also great! He’s the most classic RVB character, as he’s an underdog who’s not the best at fighting, but has a lot of heart. My fav new character, right next to Tiny.

One - I want to change her to 2nd in command and drop the whole “can’t work within a team” thing. Keep the confidence and slight rudeness, but drop all the lines referencing anti-teamwork. It hasn’t factored into the story so far, One has been successfully working as part of the team for all the episodes. This would make her dynamic with Axel more interesting, being in a higher position of power. Especially considering how her healthy relationship with her dad contrasts with East and West’s relationship. This would reinforce the tension with East, since One now has an actual position of power over her. Also, she should have the exact same powers as Zero, but maybe less powerful. This would help foreshadow that reveal, and help us understand how the enhancements work. While One is a bit of a shit, and thinks she knows best, she’s willing to take the fall when her ideas fail or get them in trouble.

Axel - Imma be honest: totally forgot he was One’s adopted dad until I rewatched the episodes prepping for this. You could drop it totally, as it gets a bit redundant with West and East’s relationship, but I think there’s more fun in working with it. Also, if One’s 2nd in command and Axel isn’t insecure about it at all? Instantly makes him a more likable guy. I also think he parallels to Wash very well (bit of a kid at heart, weapons guy, team dad, emotional heart) so we’re gonna expand on that too.

East - Her and One’s relationship is the driving force of conflict within the strike team. With the changes made to One, East can stay pretty much unchanged. Before they were too similar. Now, with One being abrasive but willing to work together, and East being more reserved and distant, they’re great foils for each other. Also she parallels early Carolina, which I love (speed is her ability, prefers working alone, competitive as hell, dad runs team)

Villains: On characterization, they’re all good! Villains are allowed to be a bit more shallow, and they all seem to have understandable motives for what they’re doing: Zero wants revenge and power, Phase wants revenge especially against West, and Diesel just seems like he’s having fun. I do want to change Zero’s power tho, with Phase already having a teleport with a cool gimmick, and Diesel having a strength/tank ability, Zero should have a unique ability. Maybe gravity because of the sword? It would allow him some cool movement tricks while still being visually distinct from Diesel and Phase’s abilities. Or something inspired by his “ghost” line from Duo.

EP 1: Viper

The Good: The introduction to the villains and their abilities was amazing. I love Phase’s knife and it’s honestly one of the coolest things I’ve seen in the show. And the intro to the Strike team? Hilarious. Great character work. You can tell that One and Axel are close, that Raymond is hesitant and new, East and One have a very competitive relationship, and West is the tough love dad.

The Bad: Don’t violate the 180 camera rule. The intro fight scene was cool, but the camera moved way too much and made it hard to keep track of everything happening. And with the new, shiny art style we need a bit more time to absorb what’s happening since the detail level went up. Also y’all healed Wash’s brain damage with a throwaway line, and then immediately fridged him? Not cool. I mean, if you wanted to show how tough the villains are, you already had them beat up Carolina.

Story Changes: - Zero gets name dropped this ep so we get a scene next ep where Axel recognizes his name. - Either replace Wash with a high ranking soldier and completely scrub him from the episode, or give a different reason why he can’t help, maybe exactly Carolina’s reason of “you’re recovering”. I’m not committing to totally removing Wash bc in Recovery Carolina’s line of “That I-that we thought was a medium risk asset” hints that Wash knew exactly what they were carrying and I’m excited to see where they take that. - Mainly I want scenes of Wash talking to Axel and expanding on his characterization as they are both Nice Boys Who Have Been Through It. - I also think a scene after we meet Strike where Axel asks Raymond “You like riding with East?” and Ray goes “You two stuck me with her on purpose!” and One goes “Yup!” all cheerfully. Just reinforce those team dynamics and friendships before it goes to shit!

EP 2: Recovery

The Good: The garage scene was perfect. Tiny is amazing, love her so much! And Axel got such great characterization during this ep. What a dork. West and Raymond also work super well together, their interactions are great.

The Bad:You know it’s a problem when the villains have a better dynamic than the heroes. The scene where Carolina explains all the strike member’s abilities and personalities? Bad. Also a little OOC for her. And redundant, since we also get Raymond asking West about East, and Axel’s explanation of the girls to Carolina.

Story Changes: - Have Axel, the emotional heart, waiting outside the recovery room for Carolina. Honestly, this isn’t that big, but I think it’d suit his character. - Carolina’s exposition is changed to solely history and abilities, no commenting on their personalities. Maybe East gets a little “has shown difficulty in working with others” but that’s it. The physical acting for these scenes really shines through, so let it stand alone. Even watching without sound, you can pick up that West is a no-nonsense leader, that Axel isn’t a flashy fighter but gets the job done, that East is fairly young and doesn’t take fighting seriously, and that One is willing to leave others behind if she thinks she can do it better. - For Carolina’s convo with One this ep about her “not willing to work on a team” either swap One with East or change it to “you need to listen to your team more. Don’t assume that you immediately now what’s best” - At the end of training, when Axel says “the guards were priority #1″ One should say “I knew you could handle it.” and Axel could respond with “Well, it’d be nice if you let me know that.” to show that One can work well as 2nd in command, but needs to communicate and stop assuming things. -Also should change Axel’s warning line about her enhancements to “Don’t push yourself. Remember what happened last time?” to enforce that this is a habit, and that while he cares about her, he’s not trying to boss her around as much. -Don’t reveal that East is West’s daughter until Raymond and West talk. That way, there’s a bit more emotional weight, and Ray’s line of “I was digging through the team files” makes more sense if Carolina doesn’t drop that info in the previous scene. - When Axel talks about the experiments East went through, he should mention that he was there for some of them. Dropping more foreshadowing for the Axel/Zero reveal! - Carolina drops Zero’s name in their convo, and we get a shot of Axel’s hand tightening on his weapon, showing the audience that the name means something to him, but we don’t know why.

EP 3: Duo

The Good: First 3rd of the ep? Really good. I love One being rude to Carolina, and then gaining a grudging respect. West and Raymond are, again, the best dynamic. How? I honestly have no idea. The car looks so stupid in the funniest way, I hate it but I love it. Also god yes Axel and Zero’s relationship is so wholesome and could be the best thing in this season. One’s warning call to the facility? The funniest shit. And Zero’s dialogue is hella cliched, but it works bc he’s obv such a dramatic bitch.

The Bad: HOLY HELL THE DIALOGUE. First, One and East’s fight? garbage. Very forced. Super hard to believe these two are real people. Carolina and West literally repeat the exact same line, less than 5 seconds apart. The dishwasher joke West makes does NOT at all work, it’s too tonally dissonant.

Story Changes: - Obv. need to change One and East’s convo. End it with “Without your power, you wouldn’t even be on this team!” East should storm off or almost attack One, requiring Axel to diffuse. - It’d also be really nice to get a line where One acknowledges that she went too far with that, but puts off apologizing to East. It’d be a nod that she’s good at reflecting and assessing, but too proud to actually take her words back. - I’d like to make Raymond more panicked when they find Wash. It’d help sell that he’s in bad shape and add more weight to “He’s got a heartbeat!” - Maybe re-work Phase and Zero’s conversation a bit. The dialogue is definitely not this season’s strong suit. - Pull Carolina’s “I’m just trying to help, East.” since it’s more impactful for East to storm off immediately and West says the line a couple seconds later. And change East’s dialogue to “You may be my CO, but don’t try to be my dad. Not after what you’ve done.” Or something similar. - For the dishwasher gag in the meeting, either pull it or double down. It’d work so much better if someone asks “Are you serious about this? Aren’t there more important things to discuss?” and West just deadpans. “This is of the upmost importance. If we can’t keep this base clean, how can we be expected to do anything else?!” and then Carolina clears her throat super loud and West goes “...Right. Rookie? Take it from here.” - Rework the “Carolina stay behind” dialogue. Even just a “Carolina. You’re still recovering. If you get hurt again, it’ll just be longer till you can take these bastards down. Keep an eye on Wash, will you?” I just couldn’t get behind the wording of “we need you here. With wash” It sounds like every cliched “woman must stay behind while the manly men save everyone!” Might be personal preference but just ew. - Add a scene where One notices Axel being a bit off (bc he’s worried about Zero being a part of the bad guy team) and she asks if he’s okay. He brushes her off, says its nothing. She goes “alright, i trust you.” - Maybe make the flashback a bit more apparent? There was a moment in the middle where I questioned whether or not it was a flashback. Again, could be a me problem.

EP 4: Encounter

The Good: The fight scenes continue to be absolute standouts. The varied environments, the movement, the dynamics on point. Wish we could’ve saw a bit more from Axel, but as is the scene worked well. The framing of the ep was good too, cutting between the mission and the fallout. And Ray, resident coward, immediately squaring up without a thought after West got injured? *chef’s kiss*. THAT is good character development. THAT is an amazing way to establish their relationship without telling us outright. Go feral, my boy! And Tiny and Raymond’s convo was so cute. I love how, despite what he says, Ray is there for his team and always willing to help. Carolina and One’s convo was also pretty decent. It got a bit long and over-explainy on Carolina’s end, but there were some pretty good moments.

The Bad: The fight after the mission failure was SO over-acted. Too much motion, to many camera angles. It changed what should have been tense arguments to hilarious melodrama. This has been a consistent problem, but it REALLY affects this scene in particular. And the second Axel enters the scene it just immediately goes downhill.

Story Changes: - Add a line from West in the beginning scene like “I’ll cut them off!” to explain why he isn’t in the car too. This also means it’s not as out-of-nowhere when West shows up to trash the car. - One should call out Axel instead of East. If she’s his daughter, she should be able to tell when he’s acting off. And she would have an easier time connecting the dots between Axel and Zero. - Instead of “I trusted you.” One should say “You lied to me.” 1) He’s her dad. One lie isn’t gonna break her total trust. 2) This would imply it’s the first time he’s lied to her, adding more weight to the whole situation 3) It’s way more accusatory and less cliched (if only a bit) - Add in a “One, wait!” bc I am a sucker for it and we could hear the guilt in his voice, rather than the weird scene where the girls make him spin around by bumping into him. - It’d also be nice if Ray stayed back for a bit before leaving, so we got a bit of his feelings on the matter. I mean, obviously he cares a lot about West, but does he blame Axel for not being there to help? It’d be nice to know!

TL;DR The best parts of the episodes are the fight scenes, and when they focus on the fun team dynamics. The worst parts are dialogue (mostly the serious bits) and over-animating, as this takes away from the drama.

I don’t mind the cheesy villains, but that may not be the case for everyone.

The best part of RVB has always been the rag-tag found family dynamics. While the fight scenes are cool, they have always been supplemental to the real meat of the show. The writers are trying something new with the whole “actual family” but you have got to focus on and develop these relationships if you want fans to care.

Mostly, I see a lot of potential in these characters, but there are GLARING issues in this season that are holding them back.

[theymakemegayer]

Reputation: Chapter 6

a/n: this was somehow long whew. I just kept on writing haha Please enjoy today’s update!

Reputation Chapter List (Chap 1-5)

======

 I was in my mass communication class - a class I had together with Poppy. I kept on re-reading the text Poppy sent me this morning.

  Enemy

 Don't think you're off the hook. I'll still ruin you.

  I don't know if I want to laugh or get annoyed. I glanced towards Poppy. Amusingly she was focused on Professor Roberta.

 "Bea!" I jerked when my name was mentioned. I looked at Professor Roberta. "Hello? I assume you heard the details of the assignment."

 I plastered a smile, "Of course Professor."

 She frowned before going back to the lecture. Yikes. I try not to let my mind wander again after that. Unfortunately my mind started to wander off. How did she even find my number? I hate how butterflies fluttered in my stomach because of that thought.

 "Earth to Bea!" 

 Ah Crap. I looked around and realized my classmates were starting to stand up and arrange themselves. 

 I looked at Professor Roberta, "Oh. I'm sorry."

 "Find you community service project partner please."  She said.

 I gathered my things and walked up on the aisle, gazing around the room. It seemed like everyone had a partner, except for that certain blonde who had been messing in my mind since morning. Our eyes met, and Poppy frowned at me. I stifled a laugh.

 "Perfect." I mumbled to myself. I smirked as I stride towards her seat. As I sat beside her she didn't look at me and kept using her phone.

 "Fancy meeting you again, enemy."

 Poppy looked up glaring at me. I smiled sweetly at her, "Sooo... we need to plan out this project."

 She groaned, "This is seriously criminal. The last thing I need right now is you tanking my GPA."

 I gasped, "Hey I'm offended." my hand clutched my chest, "I'm an excellent student Poppy. As excellent as my personality to be exact," I smirked.

 "Seriously Hughes?"

 I stifled my laugh, but nonetheless a chuckle escape my lips. She glared at me, "God I can't risk people thinking I'm being chummy with you."

 I smiled warmly at her, "Okay got it, less teasing slash flirting and more planning for the project."

 I bit my lips trying hard to suppress my laugh at her comical reaction. 

 "I... I told you, your mind games won't work on me." She stuttered, eyes avoiding mine and a blush creeping on her cheeks. 

 "Sure Pops." I smiled cheekily.

 She groaned, "Shut up."

 So I did, eyes glued at her -just appreciating her beauty this close. I noticed how the blush in her cheeks deepened as time passed. She started to get fidgety. 

 Tucking her hair behind her ear she started to speak, "I've already figured out what we'll do. We're doing an animal shelter commercial for our project."

 "A commercial? Is that even--"

 "It will be good for the shelter. Commercials are the definition of mass communication. Besides I can talk to daddy to lend us some crew and equipment."

 Resting my elbow on the table with my face on my palm, I smiled at her softly, "I knew you were brilliant before, but nothing beats seeing you in action."

 She crinkled her nose, "Why are you much more annoying today Farmsville?"

 I chuckled, "You secretly like this."

 "Oh my God!" She exclaimed startling me. She stared at her phone open-mouthed. Her grip on it tightened.

 "Hey are you o--"

 "I have to go. We can talk about this later. I'll text you." She snatched her belongings, shoving it on her quilted leather tote and made a beeline for the door.

 "Bye.... I guess?"

 On her way out, Poppy walked passed Zoey, making sure to bump her on the  shoulder. Zoey rolled her eyes, then grinned when she spot me.

 "Zoey Wade! I can't believe it! I was hoping to see you around campus, and here you are practically fallen into my lap." Professor Roberta suddenly spoke, a grin painting her lips.

 "Oh...? I was just here to grab Bea for lunch."

 The conversation flowed. Surprisingly it looked like Professor Roberta had a soft spot for Zoey which led for us to invite her during lunch. I almost want to hug Zoey inviting Professor Roberta meant I might also make a new and good impression towards her. 

 ***

 Later that afternoon Poppy had sent me a direction where we're supposed to meet. It led me to the middle of a forest somewhere still inside of the campus. 

 "Oh God. She won't kill me... won't she?" I can't help not to overthink as I continued to follow the direction. I push through a few more and once I push past the tress and into the clearing a clubhouse stood. 

 Once I slipped inside I spot Luis who welcomed me, "Yoooo Farmsville! Glad you can finally join us."

 My eyes scanned my surrounding - a stunning indoor pool built in the center caught my attention. "I wouldn't even know about this place if Poppy hadn't invited me for this project we're currently partners with. What is this place anyway?"

 Michael answered me, "This was built by the Alphas and the Zetas. A place we can study, hang out, party and hook up. Only a few people knows this place--"

 "People I only invited are welcome here." Poppy suddenly popped out of nowhere and interrupted Michael. She held my gaze then smirked, "This is my new boyfriend by the way. Isn't he gorgeous? Bea meet my new boyfriend--"

 "Bradley Denbrough? From the show Young Wulfe? My sister have a poster of you hanging around her room." I stared at him in shock, but an unusual feeling surfaced in my chest as I looked at him and Poppy. 

 "Nice to meet you." He smiled at me.

 Like something sunk at the pit of my stomach I watched as Poppy boasted about him. "Yes, Bradley's TV Heartthrob days are almost over. He's currently working on a film. Don't you, honey?"

 I swear I felt the corner of my lips twitched as I tried to keep myself smiling as I listened to them. "Yes. I'm actually really stoked to prove myself as a serious act--"

 Before Bradley can even finish, Poppy interrupted him, a frown already on her face, "Hold on. What is she doing here?"

 I turned and spot Chloe at the front door that seemed to be frozen on the spot when Poppy glared at her.

 "Oh, boys! If you would please?" Poppy spoke.

 Two of the Alpha boys walked on the front door blocking Chloe's path.

 Chloe frowned, "Hey! You just can't-- I have the right to be here!" Chloe exclaimed in frustration.

 Chloe tried to walk passed the two boys, but after some tries she failed. She huffed in frustration, "Fine I'll leave. I just want to talk to you Poppy." 

 Poppy scoffed, "There is nothing to talk about." 

 I saw the sad look in Chloe's eyes before she turned her back and leave.

 I looked at Poppy. Our eyes met and she raised an eyebrow. I began to talk, "What was that Poppy? I thought you two are supposed to be best friends?"

 "Surprisingly you're behind the news huh. Walk with me?" She said those in a neutral voice and face expression, but I saw her lips twitched a little - a sign of  a smile she was holding back.

 She shooed the boys away as we walk slowly around the perimeter of the pool our shoulders almost touching. The only sound was her heels clicking. 

 After a few a seconds she finally spoke, "Have you checked the student ranking today?"

 Puzzled, I took out my phone to look for it. A gasp escaped my lips, "Oh my God! Chloe is..."

 "Don't say it." She said curtly. She slipped off her heels and sat at the edge of the pool. I sat beside her.

 "I don't know what she did or who she slept with, but this won't last long. It was utter betrayal. That girl is dead to me." A frown was etched to her face, eyes looking at a distant.

 I pouted looking at her, "Have you tried to talk to her?"

 She turned at me so fast, her glare like daggers that shoot at me, "There is nothing to talk about with her."

 "Poppy," I said her name softly.

 Her gaze never left mine, "What?" 

 "Is Chloe your best friend?" 

 She clenched her jaws and started to avoid my eyes, trying to focus her gaze in front of her. I heard her sigh, "It doesn't matter now. She betrayed me."

 "I'll assume that was a yes then." 

 She looked at me then glared, "You're being annoying again."

 I chuckled, "Then try answering my question for real." 

 "Fine." She said curtly. A moment passed by of silence. I let her. My eyes started to drift with the remaining distance between us. A few inches apart, and her hand - one move from mine and I can hold her hand. I felt the urged to hold her hand. How would it feel to hold her hand? I gulped hard, burying the hundreds of emotions that surged on my chest. 

  "Indeed she is."  She finally spoke. I looked up watching her side profile once again. I started to wonder - how many people had the chance to be this close to her? How many of them even appreciated how beautiful she was. Suddenly with all my thoughts swarming in my mind I wasn't fast enough to look away when she looked at me catching me off guard. A million of emotions flashed in her eyes as she locked gaze with mine. I noticed the smile blooming on her lips.

 "Were you checking me out?" There was an undeniable amusement in her voice.

 Ignoring the warmth creeping on my cheeks, I grinned at her, "Can't help not to get caught with that beauty of yours."

 She huffed before chuckling. She really laugh...? Like a real genuine laugh? I felt a million butterflies fluttered in my stomach. It sounded soft almost angelic in my ears. 

 She shook her head as her laugh died down, but the smile in her lips never faltered. "We're definitely getting out of topic Hughes."

 I looked at her eyes hoping I can convey the genuine care blooming in my chest right now, "Will you consider talking to Chloe?"

 She sighed softly, "Why do you keep on insisting that? In fact I already have a plan to wreck her reputation. And I'm about to offer you a truce for the mean time you know."

 "Do you want to know what I think of you Poppy?" I suddenly asked her.

 "Okay that was completely out of nowhere, but alright. Tell me." She said her eyes on mine.

 "I think you're someone who is more than who meets the eye." 

 "That... is something new." She paused digesting the words I said, "Never heard of anyone telling me that." Her soft smile after she spoke tugged at my heartstrings.

 I sighed, propping my hands behind me and looking up at the ceiling, "I can't believe you're offering me a truce. I don't even treat you like an enemy."

 "Whatever. At least I am informing you." 

 I shook my head laughing, "I'm still hoping you'll talk to Chloe instead of doing something rush and wreck her reputation." 

 She glared at me, "Are you like a follower of her or something? Why do you kept on insisting I talk to her?"

 "Because Poppy I am only looking out for you. I think deep inside you were hurt by what happened. I also think Chloe treats you as her best friend, so before you regret anything try to talk to her first."

 Poppy groaned, "Why am I even talking to you." With that Poppy finally stood up and slipped her heels back. "Let's just meet this Saturday for the commercial. Noon time, in front of Animal Rescue on East 45th?"

 I grumbled, "Fine."

 She smirked, "Bye Hughes." She turned her back and started to sashay her way out. She was probably aware how my eyes were glued at her retrieving figure with the way she was swaying her hips. I internally groaned. What a tease.

 ***

 It was Saturday noon finally. I walked inside the Animal rescue shelter and cooed once in a while as my eyes darted from fur animal to another. One particular Puppy caught my eye making me cooed, "Oh my god. Look at this cutie."

 My loud musings were interrupted when I heard Poppy's voice. "...nice to see many additions. I guess that means a lot of these little guys are being adopted?"

 The shelter stuff guy answered her, "Yes Ms. Min-Sinclair. We have a ten percent higher adoption rate since last year."

 Poppy laughed. That laugh I heard from her a few days ago. My heart lurched at the softness of it. I rounded a corner and saw her talking with a shelter employee. She was carrying a bichon frise puppy in her arms and stroking its stomach softly.

 "I'm happy to hear that, Julian. Hopefully this commercial we'll be doing will get some good press for you, and we'll get that rate up to 20 percent rate this year?" Poppy said smiling. Julian spotted me over Poppy's shoulder before he can reply. That caught her attention. She turned around. She frowned once she spotted me.

 She marched towards me, frown still on her face. Once she was in front of me she spoke, "You're late." 

 "Sorry about that." A soft smile tugged on my lips, "But that scene... I knew there was something about you than what meets the eye, but witnessing that soft side of yours." I grinned. "Didn't know you can be more beautiful."

 I saw a blush crept on her cheeks as she stuttered next, "F-First, who doesn't like puppies?" She glared at me, but her eyes failed to hide the depth and softness in her right now. "And second, don't you dare mention this to anyone." She started walking towards the kennels. I tried matching her pace, but her stride was crazy long despite her height.

 "One thing I'm curios though. You sound close with the employees here." I spoke while we walked.

 "If you must know my parents bought me this animal shelter when I was eight."

 I gaped at her, "What?"

 She looked at me nonchalantly and raising her eyebrow, "I wanted a puppy, but my parents didn't want pets in the house, so decided to buy me this shelter instead. I guess they thought it was better to have many than one pet alone." She paused her eyes traveling towards the fur animals on our right, "Guess they didn't realize that the purpose of this shelter meant these animals won't stay here forever." A faint sadness flickered on those brown eyes. It was a cracked on her mask, a glimpse of who really was Poppy. My heart ached with her. I itched to shelter her in my embrace for a second before she spoke again willing me back to reality.

 "But whatever." She shrugged her shoulders. When she looked back at me her mask was there once again. Like an avalanche I felt my emotions crashing in my chest. My memories and emotions colliding, and fighting their way through me. I giggled a funny realization dawning on me. 

 "What are you laughing at?" She glared at me. 

 "I forgot sometimes that you're still a human." I smiled softly.

 "So?" She crossed her arms in front of her.

 "I want to tell you something Poppy." I exhaled my nerves were starting to act up. 

 The giggles and the pitter-patter echoed as two kids rounded up where we are. We both got distracted specially Poppy, our past conversation hanged in the air and forgotten. If I thought I was up for more surprises, well I wasn't prepared for this one. Poppy's eyes soften as one of the boys directly bumped into her legs.

 "Oof." The little boy tumbled on the floor, butt first.

 Poppy reached down and help the boy stood up. Her voice was gentle as she spoke," Are you alright?" A gentle smile painted in her lips.

 The little boy nodded, "Sorry."

 Poppy smiled, "It's alright. Be careful next time alright?" 

 The little boy nodded a sheepish smile on his lips. His playmate which I realized was his twin brother walked towards us. 

 "I'm sorry my brother can be real clumsy sometimes." He giggled as he wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders.

 "Are you guys here to adopt one of these fur animals?" Poppy crouched as she looked at them both. I felt like my heart was about to melt as the scene unfold in front of me.

 The one who bumped into Poppy nodded enthusiastically, "Yes! Our parents are just talking in their with that guy."

 "I'm sure your new pet is already happy to have a new home with you both" Poppy continued to talk with them the softness in her eyes never faltered.

 Their mother called out to them cutting the conversation between the three.

 "Mason! Mickey!"

 "Coming mom!" They both answered and run towards their mother. However, they halted and turned around smiling at Poppy.

 "Bye!" 

 "Bye pretty lady." They giggled before running towards their mother again.

 I chuckled, "I don't know what or who was more adorable those kids or you?"

 She looked at me. I'm almost surprised to see amusement dancing in her brown eyes, "I shall let those kids win then."

 I gasped, "Who are you and what have you done to Poppy?"

 She laughed. I swear I am still not used to hearing her laugh. "Maybe this is one of my secret Hughes." She winked, "You just got lucky to find it today." She turned around and was about to walk away, but I held her wrist stopping her.

 "I-" I still haven't forgotten what I was about to tell her before the boys interrupted us.

 She raised an eyebrow, "Spit it out Hughes."

 I let myself get lost on her brown eyes. My heart started drumming wildly in my chest. Warmth creeping fast on my cheeks as I tried to to voice out the words my heart was screaming,"I guess I just want you to know that I care for you." 

 Her breath hitched, "Bea..." 

 She finally said my name. She said it so softly. I wasn't prepared for it - the buzzing of my heart almost deafening me. My limbs were starting to turn into jelly. She was close enough to intoxicate my senses with her perfume. The urge to get a lot much closer to her surged my body. 

 I was still lost in her brown eyes, her perfume and the warmth of her in my grasp when someone called her, "Ms. Min-Sinclair?"

 It was Julian, if I remember correctly. Gently I let her wrist go. She looked at me for one final second before averting her eyes from mine and looked at Julian, "Yes."

 "Are you guys ready? The crew and producer are waiting for you both." He smiled.

 I stifled a sigh. Guess commercial first then feelings later? 

 During the commercial shoot I wasn't even surprise that Poppy only gave me a one sentence line - to say that line was something not pleasant at all. The shoot continued. I tried to not get distracted and think about it too much. I observed her. Despite that little moment we had earlier, Poppy remained professional and very her during the shoot. Once the commercial shoot was finished I scooped Beppy - the dog I decided to adopt on the spot while we were filming.

 Poppy walked towards me, "So you decided to call him Beppy?"

 I smiled mischievously, "Yeah something to commemorate this day too."

 "Huh?" She said clueless. "Does his name meant something?"

 I smirked, "I'll keep it simple. It's a result of our combined names." I laughed when she gaped at me.

 "You're kidding right?"

 "I guess you can also treat Beppy as yours you know, so even if you can't visit the shelter you'll have Beppy in Belvoire." I shrugged my shoulders.

 "Oh my God. I think you've just gone crazy or something." 

 I rolled my eyes, "Over dramatic are we?"

 "I am not. This is just shocking." She stared at me wide eyed.

 "Like what I said earlier inside, I still stand by it. This is partly my way of showing you that those words are sincere." I smiled gently.

 She smiled too, mischief flashed in her eyes, "Hmm. Fine. I guess I'll just focus on the fact that I'll get to bond with Beppy again."

 "And me!" I grinned enthusiastically.

 "Hush Hughes. Not your lucky day... yet," She smirked at me. "See you around at school Bea. Come on Champ." She turned and walked away with Champ following her.

 I stood there in awe, in shock, in stunned silence feeling my heart beating so loud and my mind attacked by whirlwind of thoughts with Poppy's name on it.

 ***

 Later that night I was helping Professor Kingsley grading papers - well I was definitely staring on this paper and not grading it because my mind was somewhere else. 

 "Bea focus! We need three more classes to grade." She suddenly spoke waking me up from spacing out.

 "Yes professor." I said as I willed myself to start again on grading these papers.

 A few minutes past, but eventually my mind slowly got lost again. I knew there was something more about Poppy and what I witness today just... proved that. I felt the flutter of my heart as my mind wandered on the memories of Poppy's laugh and smile.

 "Okay we're definitely not achieving anything productive right now." She slipped off her eyeglasses and folded her hands on the table as she looked across at me, "Tell me what's bothering you."

 I sighed as I put down the papers on the table, "I'm sorry if I can't focus Ina, but are you really sure you want to know?"

 She chuckled as she leaned back in her chair, "I know I'm your professor, but that doesn't mean I can't also be your friend."

 I frowned as I try to put into words all that was messing my mind, "Have you ever met someone where they were labelled as a bad person by people, but you tried to give them a benefit of the doubt? Then that benefit of the doubt you gave just pay through cause you had glimpses of the good side of this person?"

 "Hmm..." Ina tapped her fingers on the table as she think through my words. She crossed the room and opened a globe compartment which revealed a miniature bar. 

 I laughed in amusement, "Really? Drinking on a school night?"

 Ina grinned, "Don't act innocent you probably partied hard a night before your exam."

 I guffawed, "Guilty as charged Professor."

 She smirked handling me a shot glass, "Besides the situation seems to call for it."

 I groaned," I couldn't agree more." I gulped down the alcohol in one shot.

 She leaned at her table and faced me, "It seems like there is more to the story that you're not sharing Bea."

 I sighed heavily, "This bad person... I kinda had a crush on them since the start. My friend warned me about that person, to the point I promised my friend that I'll avoid catching feeling for this person." I chuckled dryly, "But well shit happened and now I think I'm really starting to like this person."

 "Why not just tell your friend the truth?"

 "I am not sure how my friend will react. And I'm starting to feel torn if I should try to erase these feelings or go for it." 

 "In the first place why would you try to move on if you haven't even tried to make a move on this person? I thought you see something good in them? Heck, Bea you saw this person's bad side and you still gave them a benefit of the doubt. So why will you let go now?"

 I bit my lips. Something about moving on and forgetting about my feelings for Poppy made my heart ache, "Because maybe I'm scared that this can be one sided."

 Ina sighed, "Look, I know in the end it will still be your decision, but if your friend is really a true friend then they'll eventually understand and accept the fact that you're having feelings for this person. And for that crush of yours, if you want to live a life having unanswered what ifs then fine let them go."

 I groaned, "I don't know if you're helping me or only messing with my mind more."

 Ina shook her head, "Bea you're being stubborn. That's what's happening. Now if you want to call it a night and go home it's alright."

 I sighed, "I'll stay and help you Ina. I need a distraction, plus I know you really need a helping hand right now."

 Ina smiled, "Thanks even though you're still stubborn."

 "Hey!" I exclaimed making her laugh.

 ***

 It was almost 2 am. I was still working on my Anthropology essay. My mind too energized to think of other thoughts like Poppy. Okay, nope. We're not thinking about her right now. Just then Beppy was being his usual self and bit my slippers.

 "Grrr," Beppy growled as he wriggled my slipper in his mouth.

 "Beppy, that's not a toy." 

 He put my slipper down and looked at me with those innocent and soft eyes. 

 I sighed and cooed, "How can I remain mad at you huh? Come here little rascal."

 He walked towards me and lay down as I scratch his belly. Not even a minute had passed when my phone lit up with a new notification.

 "Poppy texting me?" The rapid beating of my heart wasn't helping at all. "What does your other mom wants?" I gasped and lightly slapped my lips, "Ugh! Beppy why did I named you that again? This is torture."

 Beppy just looked at me with his gentle eyes which brought me comfort for some reason.

 I looked at my phone to read her text.

 Enemy

 Hey. You still awake? What do you say? Would you like to go with me when I talk to Chloe? 

You know I need someone to stop me from attacking that girl on the spot.

[nachohypno]

Nate and Dave Ch. 13

Didn’t take long for us to leave the shopping street. We did take a few pictures together, mostly for storing. Dave is pretty photogenic and looks great in all of them (He even wanted to take his tank top off for a few! But I assumed that would attract unwanted stares. Silly old Dave...)

We left our bags at the back seat and drove off towards Dave’s house. Something I always liked about living in a town: Everything is close, and yet, a car never seems a bad idea. Maybe my ass is just lazy, but I enjoy relaxing next to Dave as my werewolf boyfriend just drives us safely towards our destination.

“I forgot to ask… Are your parents home?” I like Mr. and Ms. Walker! I really do! But there’s so many things you can do when a couple of werewolves with heightened senses are in the house with you. I have a feeling that they can hear every single sound in the house.

And that’s not really fun. I don’t think it’s intentional though, but it’s pretty hard to have a heart-to-heart moment when you think everyone is listening to you.

“Nuh-uh.” Dave mumbled, as he parked outside his garage. “Pop’s working during the evening, comes back by the time we’d be out of school, so we have quite a few hours before our private time is over. Mom’s out with some of her friends I guess, she doesn’t like spending much time ‘locked away’.”

“So, you really want to have a pool day? We’re a month or so away from Winter, big guy.” Not intending to sound like a party pooper. The day was nice and you can survive without a jacket, but I don’t think I’ll be going into the pool. Catching a cold isn’t something I look forward to.

“I’m always up for some swimmin’, but get what ya mean, bruh.” He turned off the engine and looked at me. “You can relax by the pool, and if things get really cold we can just go to my room and warm ya up!”

We entered the house. I couldn’t hear a single sound inside, which was a comforting thing.

“Lose the clothes! Lose the clothes! Lose the clothes!” Dave started chanting, as he stripped in front of me as fast as he could, soon standing naked in the middle of the living room.

I always liked how easily he loses his clothes at every chance he gets. Maybe he likes having his built body at full display for others to admire? I mean, who wouldn’t admire him?

The meaty pecs are not too big, but not exactly small either. His 6-pack abs are perfectly aligned and seem ready to take a few punches, breaking your hand in the process.

His cock was hard, of course. His cock was always hard when he’s naked, like an automatic thing. 

He seems like a 15 years old with those levels of horniness, and yet he makes such a great job holding himself back instead of suggesting to have sex everyday. I don’t know if he jerks off though, maybe he’s just happy to see me.

“I… prefer to stay clothed?” Such a party pooper, I know, but I’d rather not worry my mom with getting sick because I want to seem cool for my boyfriend. I’ll get naked in the bedroom, but the pool seems out of the question right now.

Dave frowned. “Still worrying about gettin’ cold? Wait here and strip, I’ll get ya a solution, bruh.” He raced upstairs, our bags in hand. I loved how the locket dangled in between his pecs, such a cool detail.

I did as told though, not because he told me to but because I was curious. And a little part of me didn’t want to be lame. That train is gone now, though, right?

I waited for my puppy boy, as I started feeling the cold getting to me. It wasn’t bad, but not exactly the most pleasant thing in the world. I stayed in my boxers, because I wasn’t looking forward to the air invading my ass.

A minute later or so, the jock dashed down the stairs with his varsity jacket on one arm, and a pair of towels on the other. He was already wearing his speedo, but it failed to hide anything due to his hard on.

“Uhm… Could you go soft like… down there?” I asked, trying to sound as nice as possible. Perks of having a werewolf soulmate, apparently everything you say sounds always as nice as possible, Dave is just happy to comply with everything that I may want or need.

Including controlling his body functions, like how his dick just got soft all of a sudden and the speedo looked a bit less revealing. Still, it fitted him quite well.

“Not gonna swim, right?” Dave asked, giving me a finger gun. I shook my head, before laying a towel on the ground and just laying down. “A’ight, watch these moves then, bruh!”

He jumped in the pool with a cannonball, making a big splash, before giving me a thumbs up and smiling. I clapped a lot, to show him some enthusiasm before he sank back down and started doing laps. I rolled my eyes, and started scrolling through my phone.

--------

Dave pulled himself out of the pool after finishing another set of laps, and started drying himself off like a dog: Shaking it off.

I covered myself with his jacket, and I heard him chuckle. “Water’s so nice today, bruh. You should give it a try!”

“Are you really not cold? It’s okay if you are… We can do something else instead.” I knew he wasn’t but I was worried about him.

“Chill out, my body’s as warm as a lighted chimney.” He finished drying himself off with a towel and sat beside me on the stone floor. “Us werewolves can take some really cold temperatures, especially while wearing our fur, babe.”

Huh, that awakened my curiosity!

“So… everyone in your family is a werewolf?” I asked, reaching out for my phone. I had to write this down or otherwise I would forget about it! I had made a special text file for my research on Dave’s… wolfiness.

As soon as I get some juicy new information, I write it down to satisfy my inner nerd. Never thought I would be so invested in investigating a supernatural creature, but yet again, I never thought I’d have a werewolf as my soulmate!

“Uh… not quite?. Like, I think there’s a fifty percent chance if one of the two is a normal person, but we don’t really care about that. It’s not like it’s a super important thing to have a werewolf son.” He tried to explain, putting on his sunglasses again and sitting beside me. “It is pretty important for my pops but between you and me, he’s just kinda racist.”

My fingers tapped the screen as I heard everything Dave had to say. I mean, not the part about his dad, but the werewolves’ children having a fifty percent chance to inherit lycanthropy.

“But,” He resumed his explanation. “Most of my family is a werewolf, maybe there’s just one or two not werewolves out there? There are a lot of Walkers, that’s for sure. Not sayin’ we mate like bunnies but… I do have a lot o’ cousins.”

“Any siblings?” I asked, but he shook his head in denial.

“Nope. I’m an only son, bruh. I always thought it was because I’m an alpha, and dad says I got the jackpot with that rank. Heheh.” A smug look on his face, he flexed his arms while pointing to himself with his head high. The guy was trying to seem narcissistic or he was really proud of himself.

He looked cute anyway. The speedo was holding his now-soft cock perfectly, and you could see his shape through it. Muscles in all the right places… the guy looked like a really little hulk. Just… human-like, and not green.

I took my eyes off him for a few seconds to finish writing this line at my notepad. ‘Werewolves seem to mate and reproduce themselves quite frequently, but it varies on a subject vasis.’

“Hey nerd, drop the phone.” Dave said, in a commanding tone. I definitely wasn’t expecting it, but I looked at him again and he seemed a bit annoyed. Maybe because I wasn’t giving him much attention? He wasn’t flexing anymore, then he started walking closer.

I tapped my way to the ‘Save’ button before leaving my phone next to me. “Uh… sure thing? What’s with the attitude?”

The puppy boy didn’t stop to answer, but instead got next to me and grabbed my hips in a swift move. Supernatural speed or reflexes, whatever you want to call it, I loved it. “Just enjoy it, babe…” He mumbled, before leaning in for a kiss. I closed my eyes as I kissed him back, and could feel my body being lifted from the nice towel on the grass.

His warm skin against my naked chest, only protected by his varsity jacket. A few seconds afterward, the varsity jacket was off. The locket necklace was cold, but I didn’t mind. I just enjoyed the moment, just like he said.

Dave was walking, but the kiss distracted me. My mistake was closing my eyes, because I didn’t see his prank coming. 

“One… two…” He started to swing me towards the pool. I opened my eyes as soon as he started counting, but I only managed to say a surprised “Dave-!” before he interrupted me.

“Three!” SPLASH. I fell in the water. The cold water, but my body was quickly getting used to it. I stayed underwater for a few more seconds to fully embrace the cold temperature, I knew that I would shiver a bit less if I did that.

I had my eyes closed once again, because I never got used to my eyes touching water, but I did feel the water movement as Dave jumped right after me.

I swam back to the surface. I’m not a good swimmer, but this area of the pool wasn’t that deep so I could touch the bottom with my feet and keep myself up with small jumps.

“Hey, hey. I got’cha now…” Dave mumbled, catching me in his arms and keeping me from jumping. I hugged him as tightly as I could. His body was still warm, so it felt really good. Like some kind of underwater stove.

“T-Thanks, big guy…” I managed to say. I would have loved to avoid seeming a weakling, but even with Dave’s hot body, I still felt myself getting colder the longer I was in the pool.

Pulling me closer, he leaned in for a good make out session which I really appreciated. I wrapped my legs around his waist and we stayed like that for a good while.

...Until the coldness was too much for me, that is. There’s a little line between ‘being a party-pooper’ and ‘my body can’t hold this temperature anymore’. The wind wasn’t making it any easier, making me feel colder at every part that stood out of the water.

“D-D-Dave… Let’s head... back in, okay?” I managed to say, holding him close. The jock nodded, and swam over to the edge of the pool, making sure to keep me as close as possible.

Once we were out, I reached out for the towel I was laying on a while before. Dave was shaking the water off him like a puppy boy would do, so he was okay in that part. Then, I noticed him getting zoned out again as the fur on his body started to grow. 

‘Oh, geez, I love this part!’ I thought, noticing a tail appearing behind him and his muscles growing with the yellow-ish/brown fur on his skin.

His human head morphed into a humanoid wolf one, two little fangs sticking out of his dog snout with a little black spot appearing where his nose was. His hands grew paw pads and claws, before finishing the transformation with a howl after going out of his self-induced trance.

I kept drying myself with the towel, hoping to get warmer with that, but then the puppy boy tackled me. I managed to grab my phone from the ground as he said “Don’t ya worry, my love. Gonna take good care of you…” before picking me up and dashing inside. He was already warm before, but his fur was really comfortable and helping out with the cold.

A few minutes later, the big guy entered his room with me on his arms. I felt like those couples on tv, being carried by my big and strong boyfriend towards his bed. Dave gently left me on top of it and then laid down next to me. A tight hug afterwards, I could feel the coldness fading away as a very comfortable warm invaded my body.

-------

Dave’s POV

Nate fell asleep in my arms. His shivering stopped, and he was warm again. 

I sighed, such a dumb move I’ve made. But hey, gettin’ to werewolf form to warm him up was pretty smart, right?

Reluctantly, I pulled away from him and tried to get up from my bed. Any other day I would love to do this, he’s my soulmate! Weeks after noticing him, I still couldn’t believe it. I’m supposed to make him happy and safe, fuck.

I grabbed the bedsheets and made sure Nate was well-covered in them. ‘Only the best for my boyfriend’ I thought. I shivered the bit at the thought of having a ‘boyfriend’, but that’s what he is. A guy. THE guy, the one I love the most in the world.

Magic can be quite funny, huh. How a soulmate can turn my whole world upside down. I would be beatin’ the heck outta this guy if he ever implied that we’re meant to each other. And now I fell in love with a guy. Karma’s a bitch, some say.

The sight of Nate being so comfortable in his sleep, not shivering anymore, just happily dozed off, it pushed all the buttons for me. He had to be happy, I had to make sure of that. I want to be a good soulmate for the guy I love.

Looked down at my hands, I noticed I was still in werewolf form. Mom hates when we go werewolf while we’re at the house, because the fur gets all over the floor sometimes. She’s not home though, so I can do whatever I want.

Nate’s phone was firmly held by his owner. He had all that investigation thing in there, so I guess that’s why. I knew he wanted to know more about me and my lycanthropy, and I was honored to help him! He wanted to try and understand me more? He’s the best!

I rubbed my hairy wolf head, what to do now? Should I wait for him to wake up?

I mean, I’d love to spend time just cuddling with him, but I kinda feel guilty for pulling him into the pool like that. Gonna start listening to him if I want to stop fucking up.

Nate’s really nice to me, and never tells me I fuck up, but there’s always that little possibility I actually fuck up our dates quite often and he just never tells me, and I love him too much to hurt him in any way.

That’s also why I’ve been trying to control my strength, too! Our first days together, I almost crushed the guy down with my weight, but after some practice I managed to keep myself at bay to make sure he’s comfortable with me around!

I clenched my fist and threw a punch to the air. A little unfamiliar ‘cling cling’ sounded as I did so, the locket. Watching it filled me with joy and a warm feeling. It’s like I carry a little reminder that I’m Nate’s soulmate. 

A puppy boy, always ready to please my owner in any way possible.

My own words, the ones I wrote on the little note inside the locket, resonated through my mind. “My heart, body and mind belongs to my lovely soulmate Nate Hall.” Followed by my signature. It was cheesy, and maybe a try hard-ish thing for my taste, but it was the truth. Nate was my owner and I was his puppy boy.

I held the metal thing tightly in my hand, before letting it go and turning around, heading out of my room. Empty house, still plenty of time to have fun.

I had to walk in tiptoes, because my heavy footsteps may wake up my boyfriend. I could just change back into human form, but I felt stronger and faster while in werewolf form. Any excuse I have to use it will be great.

Out on the corridor, I looked for the attic trapdoor’s handle on the ceiling. The attic is a pretty dirty and dark place, we just use it as storage. So, I assumed mom and pops would store their family treasures or memories. Boxes filled with old books, photo albums, letters and other trash. 

Somewhere in those boxes had to be my old copy of the ‘Being a werewolf: How to keep the secret safe and live among the human society.’ book. (Sounds lame, but I ain’t making that up!).

So, time for a good search. I can’t search it by smell, because I would only smell dust and humidity.

My claws made it a bit more harder to search through the boxes without breaking stuff, but I managed to search through quite a few of them pretty quickly. No luck so far.

A box next to a small window had a little ‘Old stuff from Dave’ tag on it. Mom liked to organize stuff, I don’t know why I didn't look for this one to begin with.

I opened the top of the box and began searching through full notebooks filled with gibberish writing from when I didn’t know how to read or write. I was quite the slow learner, according to a few old teachers. Then, there it was.

A brown book, with a wolf doing a thumbs up to me, with silver letters that read ‘Being a werewolf: How to keep the secret safe and live among the human society.’ And a little seal of quality on the bottom of it that said ‘Approved by the supernatural council’. This would make a perfect gift for my nerdy boyfriend.

I decided to look a bit more around that box and other ones, just in case I found more stuff for him, but I’ve been up in the attic for quite some time, apparently.

“Uh… Dave?” A dazed Nate asked, still in my room. I could hear him perfectly, great part of the heightened hearing.

“Comin’ up!” I answered, trying to sound loud enough for him to hear me. Searching for treasures would have to wait, my soulmate needed me.

I left the attic and closed the trapdoor, before running into my room. Another rule, my mom doesn’t like us running in the house because we could break the furniture, but pops always gives me a free pass on that one.

“Need anythin’? I’m so sorry for pushing you in down there, bro…” I tried to apologize, but Nate didn’t seem mad at all. Nor disappointed, he just seemed… comfortable. “If you want me to do something to make it up for you, just say it and I’ll do it. Anything. Oh, wait, got you this book for your investigation...”

I sometimes think I can exaggerate when around Nate, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him. And that’s not poetry, I mean it quite literally.

There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.

I gave him the book and Nate examined it carefully. “Being a werewolf… Is there actually a whole guidebook about being a werewolf?” He asked, before leaving it on my night table. I nodded, wondering if he liked it or not.

“Thanks so much! And about before, don’t worry about it.” Nate said, breaking the few seconds of silence. “I mean, I’m not dead so… it was just a fun prank!” Huh, I thought he would actually be mad at me after that. “Hey, c’mere.”

I did as told, while he reached out for my wolf head. I started giving light kicks to the floor as he scratched the back of my ear. There’s no way I can describe the pleasure this gives me. It’s just… the best thing in the world, next to him.

“‘sides, you also brought me up here and warmed me up. I can’t be mad at you for being such a good puppy boy! Who’s a good puppy boy? Huh? Who’s a good puppy boy?”

An urge to answer overwhelmed me. “I am!” I said. “I am a good puppy boy! Woof!”

“Yes, you are! You’re the best puppy boy ever, aren’t you?” He continued, now scratching my neck. My kicks came out a bit stronger now, as the pleasure went up. My cock was already rock hard, this was amazing!

“Yeah! I am your puppy boy, bruh! Woof, woof!” My urge to bark wasn’t a new thing, either. It was like my animal instinct and my human mind were at a bit of a struggle right now. I didn’t care though, Nate’s happiness was the thing that mattered the most to me right now.

“Come up on the bed, we’re gonna have some puppy fun, right puppy boy?”

I nodded excitedly, before climbing my bed. I loved how small Nate looked when on my bed. Probably because I’m way bigger than him, and the bed was actually made to fit my werewolf form on it.

“Also… could you just… zone out for a bit? You know, like we’ve practiced, puppy boy.”

No time to think, though. Had to obey.

If Nate was the center of my world before, then he just became the center of my universe as my mind emptied from every thought that didn’t involve obeying him.

Nate was my soulmate, my owner, the most important person in my life without a doubt. And I was just a simple puppy boy jock.

“My heart, body and mind belongs to my lovely soulmate Nate Hall.” Those words resonated again in my mind, this time stronger, as Nate pulled his wet underwear off. “Take off your speedo, puppy boy.” He ordered.

I was smiling, and my tongue was lolling out. I obeyed his order without a single doubt in my mind. Pure bliss by just obeying my soulmate was a great thing. Nate moved me like a ragdoll, having one of my hands wrapped around his cock and the other around mine. “Now, start jerking us off.”

It was an honor for me. My owner wanted me to jerk him off! I couldn’t disappoint him!

I did my best, trying to control my strength well enough so he could enjoy it without pain. I replicated my own moves on my cock, pleasuring myself as well. Nate was just laying there, eyes closed and arms behind his back. He moaned from time to time.

While we already went through the ‘fucking’ stage, I never knew if Nate enjoyed it as much as I did. We never did it again, so it’s hard to know.

But hey, any moment with my soulmate is an amazing one! 

I kept stroking him for quite a while, not minding anything but focusing on bringing him pleasure. My own pleasure was another thing, but he included it in his order so I had to pleasure myself too!

Then, he pushed my hand off and grabbed me by the locket. “That’s enough for now, let’s just cuddle together, all right?”

My answer was a bit of panting, as I did as he suggested and wrapped him in my arms. I hoped my fur warmed him a lot more, after the shitty move I pulled before.

“I love you, puppy boy. You’re the best and only puppy boy in the world for me...” A little yawn as he laid on my pecs.

I smiled, feeling myself blush a bit but it would have been not distinguishable at all due to the fur in my face. This was one of the few times that I had to fight against the influence of being ‘zoned out’, not for a bad reason, but because I wanted to answer him.

“I… love you… too, my love…” I managed to say, quite happy but still a bit unemotional. Eh, did my best there, and Nate seemed happier, since he hugged me tighter.

“Let’s just nap for a while… Okay?” I don’t know if that was an order, but I almost immediately dozed off.

-------

Chapter 14 is already available in my Patreon!  And by pledging you also get access to other stories before they go public!

[scoundrels-in-love]

5 and 13! x

@clockworkswans Super late, so a tag in case you miss the response! Thank you so much for asking!

5. : K-Drama OTP(s)?

This is kind of funny because if I think about it, I love kdramas, but I don’t think I am person who typically gets all crazy about couple themselves, isolated from the story, or just... IDK, it’s hard to explain. But that aside, I do have an OTP!

Gang Doo and Moon Soo from Just Between Lovers. Will never not love them. My sweet, sweet traumatized babies that grew so much, together and individually. They nailed that sweet, sweet spot of ‘sort of enemies to friends to lovers’, starting from the kind of wrong foot and then discovering each other - and themselves - layer by layer. Brb I am getting emotional and need to clutch my chest for 5 minutes.

Some other couples I enjoyed.

Both couples in Goblin. While my feelings about some aspects of it all have gotten a lot more ambivalent over the years, I do have to be honest to the part of myself that loves them still rather unconditionally. There was something tragic and beautiful and trying to do right by each other, in the end, that really stuck with me.

Both couples of Run On. Seun Gyeom and Mi Joo make me feel all warm and happy and honestly, I don’t know if I want to date either of them or be either of them, so that’s that.

Although I am prepared to be let down by resolution of Dan Ah’s sexuality storyline resolution, I am still absolutely invested in everything that she and Yeong Hwa got going on. The tension, the redefining of dynamics and power balance, the way he makes her smile and she sees to the heart of his paintings, the way he just wants to get pegged so bad but won’t let her walk all over him as a person and an artist... Sexy.

Dan Oh and Haru from Extraordinary You. It’s not any sort of life-consuming love for them as a romantic couple, but it’s hard to not to root for them as they face so much together and come through kinder, stronger and more in love. I only want what’s best for them and, really, who wouldn’t?

Bok Joo and Joon Hyung from Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo. Although I don’t think Joon Hyung is precious bean that can’t do any wrong (there were moments he was kind of a dick, even if it worked in comedic way), their relationship overall developed sweetly and endearingly and I definitely genuinely rooted for them and found them adorable. Also, it was my first kdrama, so they get shoutout for that. If they didn’t sell me on kdramas and kdrama romance, I wouldn’t be here in the first place.

+ Bonus

Not a kdrama, but Kurodachi from Cherry Magic is definitely got me more emotionally invested than most kdrama couples than I’ve seen. They had their messups, but overall, they were earnest and sweet, and so absolutely adorable and there wasn’t one moment where I would feel like I couldn’t absolutely root for them as individuals and as a couple.

++ Bonus 2: electric boogaloo Se Ra and Gong Myung from Into the Ring could very well end up here when I have watched more than 3 eps and skipped ahead a bit, because one single post credit scene made me feel more mushy feelings about their budding romance than many epic couples or famous dramas. Also, I adore their ‘I hate your guts’ to ‘I can respect that’ to ‘I would literally do the impossible for you’ journey for I am a simple bitch.

13: Top five K-Dramas?

*groans* It’s such a hard question. I hate ranking things. So I will only rank my favorite and the rest will be a random ass mess and I don’t know if I will stop at 5. This is my blog, I alter the rules as I please. *distressed noises*

1. Just Between Lovers. I’ve not been shy about loving this drama. I could ramble and ramble about it, but to preserve everyone involved, I will just say it’s, to me, the perfect ensemble story of gradual healing and overcoming trauma as found family. It hits like a freight train, but somehow you are put back together better than before. It’s sweet, it’s tragic, it’s funny in places and it’s comforting in this one big package. It’s embedded itself in part of my heart, a promise and understanding all at once. ‘Maybe it’s not the time, yet, but you will heal. I believe in you.’ And it makes me want to believe it, too.

It’s Okay, That’s Love. I don’t know how this would hold up, if I watched it now, and I am not saying it was perfect every step along the way, but in the end, it made me cry and it made me hopeful all at once, it comforted me in times when I really needed those exact words spoken to me and there was something so lovely about this found family.

Run On is tentatively on the list, because they might still absolutely tank it in the last 6 episodes, but I really want to believe they won’t, despite my previously mentioned lack of faith in quality wrap-up of a storyline. But even so, what it has already given to me, won’t lose its meaning if that happens. (Hah, do you get that convoluted reference?) And what it has given me is comforting, soft, character-driven story with cast full with compelling characters, many different friendships and a world that feels alive with many tiny details, yet not bloated. It’s story of healing and communication, a glimpse into profession I used to dream about, it makes me want to think about who I want to be as a person and believe just a little I could become them.

Goblin. Again, more ambivalent about it these days, but I can’t deny the power it had on me back when I watched it, from cinematography to use of OSTs which still remain some of my all time favorites, to the relationships between the four leads and the found family of it all. (Are we sensing a pattern here?)

To. Jenny It revealed the meaning of comfort show to me. It’s short and sweet and, in some ways, absolute musical nonsense. It injects seratonin directly into my brain and I have rewatched it like 4 or 5 times which is genuinely a record for me.

+ Bonus Cherry Magic. Sort of same as with To. Jenny, this is probably be going to be my comfort show if I ever get over the cringe of my failed fanfic attempt that haunts me three weeks later like some kind of disfigured ghoul. The show itself just makes me feel things which isn’t that easy to do.

Send me a kdrama ask?<3

[bow-woahh]

She-Ra season 5 thoughts

A chaotic summary of my feelings/ reactions of each episode! Spoilers. Obviously. 

Episode 1 — Horde Prime

- First of...Adora stop throwing yourself into battle challenge - "You're not She-Ra anymore" — TELL HER SIS - The way Catra was so smug but Glimmer was not having any of it "You're just as alone as I am" if that ain't the truth idk what is - Catra wanting the climb up the ranks? Sis I don't think so let's see how long that lasts - The DINNER pissed me the fuck OFF - Oh yeah here's my obligatory SW FUCK OFF CHALLENGE - Micah, King, glare at her!! Yes!! - The way Scorpia said "Catra thought my singing was annoying" honey - That clone was SO annoying stfu about Prime being omniscient and omnipresent and shit like ugH idC - Bow and Adora are the BROTP - Scorpia stinging Adora to keep her safe - and that's on friendship - The way Prime INSTANTLY called Catra out "Adora means something to you" listen I hate the gay but damn he's smart. He saw right through her act. - "Adora chose her side and I chose mine" that doesn't mean you don't still care Catraaa - Also that was REALLL quick lmaoo the way five seconds she was like "imma climb up the ranks" then in about two secs HP was like "sis I have no use for you" - "What are you going to do to me?" IM CRYING - Adora and those weird flashback PTSD things -- are u okay sis?? - This was the first episode and I already want to cry so....wow

Episode 2 — Launch

- Adora omg she's so fatigued girl S L E E P - Bow getting pissed at everyone for not letting her rest...what a king - Catra disobeying HP and talking back to that clone but then HP took its form...fuck man that shit scary - STOP CALLING HER  LITTLE SISTER CHALLENGE JESUS FUCK - Everyone hates Entrapta wow ouch - Literally Entrapta being horny over robots is hilarious lmaoo - Mermista is a great leader and they worked so well together ahhh! I'm loving Scorpia and Frosta's friendship - Entrapta got the signal!! I'm proud -  Adora stop following holograms and illusions challenge -  Adora being all like "I don't know my destiny anymore but I know I need to save my friend." LIKE YES HONEY -  Glimmer is sO volatile like honey,, did you need to break HP's crystal ball thingy?? DID U?? -  also she knows her dad is alive now and that H U R T S ++ I bet she doesn't know the sword is broken so fuckkl -  Micah as She-Ra?? something I never knew I needed -  SW not being in this episode at all? love that for us - "I reinstate my horray" I LOVE YOU SCORPIA - "Can you stay?" MY FUCKING HEART GLITRA FRIENDSHIP HERE WE COME

Every episode I just feel immense f E AR

Episode 3 — Corridors

- THIS STARTS W BABY CATRA AND ADORA?? NOELLE WHY ARE TRYNA KILL US?? - Catra and Glimmer talking about sleepovers and Adora...damn my heart - Adora and her stupid ponytail 💀 - "I'll never say sorry!" - THE WAY YOUNG CATRA WAS SO JEALOUS EYE— - "There's no one in the entire universe who cares about me." - "Im sorry! For everything." IM SO UPSET WTF -  CATRA IS FUCKED BUT SHE SAVED GLIMMER -  HP GTFO CHALLENGE -  I'm so proud of my baby tho wow... -  What the fuck we gone do now? -  so much happened in this episode so this is a lot shorter because my brain is numb. Catra is gonna get brainwashed?? isn't she?? -  "I want to do that one good thing in my life." IM CRYING Y'ALL

Episode 4 —Stranded

- Adora is like "Catra, Catra?? saved you?? wtaf?” Lmaoo - Bow and Glimmer fighting is hurting my HEART - KYLE HAS A CRUSH ON ROGELIO?? SCORPIA DONE EXPOSED IT AHHH - Swifty tryna contact Adora?? kinda cute - him impersonating everyone was onbrand and kinda funny ngl - The way Adora is like "it's complicated" lmaoo girl everything is w you - I live the star siblings omg yeS - "I have to save someone. Someone I—" omFG ADORA - Adora is S T R O N K - she GLOWED OMFG SHE RA?? IS THAT U?? - BOW AND GLIMMER BEING OKAY?? MAYBE - Etherians really are wilding out here - YESSS THEY JOINING THE REBELLION - "Maybe we'll never be friends like we used to be."  Glimmer...I love her sm - "I can't just leave her there. I have to try." Adora actually cares so much about her!! and I love Glimmer being supportive wow we love a queen! - THE BEST FRIEND SQUAD IS BACK TOGETHER!! LETS GOO - "She-Ra is back." Swift Wind is annoying but thank you. thank you for saying that horse.

I literally threw my hoodie across the room and forgot that I did that wow lmao

Episode 5 — Save the Cat

- My friend who's ahead me said wait for episode 5 now I'm fucking S H OO K - this episode name has me shook I can't - its WRITTEN BY NOELLE?? WE'RE FUCKED - I love Wrong Hordak SM what an idiot - Catradora really is gonna be canon wow - WTAF IS THAT SHE IS NOT MY CATRA SHE IS A CLONE her hair tho?? kinda nice - the way HP said "your Catra." like low-key he said gay rights - "You broke my heart. And he has made me whole again." - "We both know I don't matter"  and "you're and idiot" "I know" THESE TWO ARE MADE FOR EACH OTHER - SHE JUMPED OFF A CLIFF FOR HER - the way she's holding her?? so soft - SHE RA IS LOOKING FLY -- and is she taller?? - "You miscalculated" YES QUEEN I LOVE HER. THAT WHOLE FIGHT SCENE WAS AMAZING - FuCK HORDEP PRIME - Darla is the best Light Hope SUX - the "Hey, Adora" was SO SOFT IM SO HAPPY

That episode really hiT different Catradora is DEFINITELY canon EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU NOELLE

Episode 6 - Taking Control

- Adora. Chill. - Catra's trauma...wow - honestly I have SO MUCH TO SAY and so little at all. - The ending w Catra joining was so cute and all the Catradora interactions are SENDING ME this is the development I need - "Adora. Stay." MY HEART - thank fuck that chip is gone YAY - Entrapta and Catra making up? Catra saying "Thank you and I'm sorry" her least favourite words -- characters DEVELOPMENT - The way Catra blushed when Adora transformed GIRL YOURE GAY - SHERAS POWER IS TOO MUCH SLAY GIRL - Horde Prime FucK off challenge I hate him - Micah tryna be a father figure? cute - the endING FUCK WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT SPINNERALLA??? POOR NETOSSA

okay but where tf is DT, KYLE, LONNIE AND ROGELIO??

my mum is so tired of me screaming lmaoo

Episode 7 — Perils Of Peekabloo

- Catra just SAT on Adora's lap the PDA is unmatched - We love a filler wow - we literally can't trust anyone this shit sucks - SCORFUMA STANS STAY WINNING - Mermista and Seahawk kinda cute tho (the  heart eyes) - DT I KNEW IT   - CASH KITTEN? EYE—JUST SAY SUGAR MOMMA AND GO - NETOSSA DOESN'T DESERVE THIS - MERMISTA TO - EVERYONE is chipped WTF - DT is a theatre gay through and through   - THEY'RE FUCKED WE'RE FUCKED - NOOOO SCORPIA 😭😭😭 - "I'm the muscle, remember?" - SCORPIA'S POWER, HER REACH, IT'S AMAZING - everything is going downhill FAST - "Happy Anniversary" EYE—😭😭😭😭😭

well that sucked What the fuck we gone do now?

Episode 8 - Shot in the Dark

- The soft smile Catra gave Adora while teasing? love that - loving this new squad - the wAY HER TAIL FLUFFED UP SHES SO SCARED MAN - Wrong Hordak is my main g - the LAUGHING!! THE BLUSHING!! EVERYONE CAN SMELL THE GAY TENSION - omg Catra being the brains of the operation?? yes please - "Catra's first mission" THEY'RE SO OBNOXIOUS I LOVE THEM - "I'm going to kill your friends." "Please don't." we are ASCENDING - Casta? Strike her down anyway please 🙏 - Adora is SO WHIPPED the way she blushed at Catra making the door - "It's such a cute sneeze" BOW KNOWS IT CATRA IS CUTE AND THATS THE TEA - literallyyyy I hate SW GTFO CHALLENGE get OFF my screen 😡 - CATRA WHY DID YOU LUNGE AT THAT THING?? - OMFG MAGICAT?? (Nope dumb bitch) - "I'm coming!" "Hurry." - "I'm sorry. I got angry. It's something I'm working on" ADORA GLOWED AND SAID "You are?" WE LOVE SELF GROWTH AHH - It was Catra's hand OMFG IN THE TRAILER - Adora and cat thing being magic? we love it - MELOG IS SO CUTE and Catra can talk to it?? wowow - they love taking strays lmao - Wrong Hordak's character arc is the best one in the show - CATRA HAS AN IDEA?? YES - Preach Casta shut Weaver up - "That about sums it up, yes." I love them as a team - the hand holding? so cutee Catra don't pretend you're not whipped - oml Glimmer kissing Catra before Adora? EYE— Glitra shippers gonna be so happy at that one moment lmaoo - THEY'RE HOMEEEE

ahhh we're getting close to the end nooo

Episode 9 —An ill Wind

- oh god oh god - Catra is so badass with Melog i LOVE HER EMOTIONAL SUPPORT ANIMAL  - having to fight your own wife? that shit sucks - Erelandia? it's free - omg HP is angry asfff - FROSTA CHILL SHE PUNCHED HER HARD - Adora and Catra are soft 🥺 that's all I have to say

Episode 10 — Return to the Fright Zone

- omg are we gonna see Kyle?? Lonnie? Rogelio?? (also nope, stupid hoe) - okay but Netossa getting screentime? YES PLEASE - I love the intro sm ahhhh - also her knowing everyone's weakness? love that shit - ouch Perfuma ouch didn’t have to go so hard on Catra and YET - omg I forgot Bow's dads existed - "Mostly bad memories" 😔😔😔 - competitive gfs for the win - Catra FLEW tho WOW Scorpia is STRONK - the dad jokes are immaculate - "I'm working is being a better friend. That has to count for something right?" - "We don't throw tanks at our friends" sis you don't give flowers to your them at this current time either - "why did I get stuck with the water Princess?" Catra...baby I love you - omg there's a fail safe THANK FUCK I was legit speechless - "There's real power in love and friendship" preACH IT GIRLIE - SCORPIA FIGHT IT YESSS - legit forgot Spinny and Netossa were fighting lmao oof - FINALLY ANGST OVER THE WIVES ARE BACK - omg THE PAN TO ADORA ABOUT BEING VULNERABLE AHHHH - Perfuma is Catra's therapist that's my headcanon - OMFG I FORGOT ABOUT SW FUCK SHIT CATRA BABY IM SORRY

damn I'm stressed out

Episode 11 — Failsafe

- Weaver STFU challenge - them taking about their abuse? we love to see - "We— I could really use your help" KILL ME NOW THEY'RE TOO MUCH - "Not because I like you" she says SMILING - Melog is Catra's affectionate side prove me wrong - Stan Entrapta for clear skin - SW doesn't deserve rights (as per usual) - DONT TOUCH HER BITCH LITERALLYYYY WHYYY - and now She Ra is glitching?? fuck - Catra is so jumpy eye— "Trust Me" MY HEART SBSBDB - Weaver really called her a DISTURBANCE STFU 💀💀💀 - Entrapta and bird horse ftw what a tag team - OMG NO BE CAREFUL - "Did you just jump in fire to save me?" SHE WAS SO SMUG - can SW burn like... now? - "It's none of your business" LITERALLY BUTT OUT  - "Catra, she distracts you, confuses you." WEAVER I FUCKING HATE YOU SM I FUCKING I WILL PUNCH MY SCREEN - Entrapdak being a thing? I do not know how to feel - "Your imperfections are beautiful."  I am.... conflicted - SW doesn't deserve screen time - Catra is an i no cap (I genuinely have no clue what I meant so sorry about that) - i think the fuck not - this episode is so stressful - Catra saving Adora >>>>>>>>> - what an awful reunion for Glimmer damn - "It doesn't always have to be you!" IKR IT SHOULD BE WEAVER - fuck dark magic fuck it all - Catra's upset?? no my baby 🥺 - this whole episode is just traumatising - Adora's heart do be glowing - Catra's LEAVING?? why?? - "What do you want Adora?" - MY HEART BEEN BROKE SO MANY TIMES I DONT KNOW WHAT TO BELIEVE 😭😭 - omg this time instead of Adora leaving it's Catra (you are a dumbass DUH) - that H U R T S - ADORA TELL HER YEs QUEEN

omg HEART NEXT???

Episode 12 — Heart Part 1

- I am not prepared for this - Adora...baby I'm so sorry - Glimbow moment with a banjo?? that was cute - Adora really is a party popper - "Adora doesn't want me. Not like I want her." AND THAT'S ON LESBIANISM BUT ALSO FUCKING OUCH  - but really Catra...do you really think Adora doesn't want you? girl are youb B L I N D?? - Wrong Hordak is MY GUY - Stan the rebellion for clear skin - NOOO WHAT THE FUCK MY HEART DON'TPLAY WITH ME LIKE THAT THEY NEARLY KISSED AND IT WAS A FUCKING SIMULATION - real Catra be CAREFUL - "We have to warn Adora" YES SIS WARN YOUR GF  - "I thought I could make my own destiny" U STILL CAN SIS - I'm scared I'm fucking scared - my HEART IS BEATINGG FASTT - I really hate Horde Prime uhhhhhhhgg - for once in your sorry life do something good Weaver jfc - "I can't leave her behind again" - BEST FRIEND SQUAD + MELOG YES - "Bow, I love you." GLIMBOW IS BACK ON AHHH - BUT AT WHAT COST??? (literally what am I saying??) - "You deserve love too." AND THAT'S ON PERIODT - Glimmer coming in clutch!! - Mermista and Seahawk do be cute tho - Micah is actually the worst rn wow - "Goodbye, my oldest enemy" CATRA COME QUICK AHH

the last episode....I'm not ready to say goodbye

Episode 13 — Heart Part 2

- ofc this is written by Noelle - "Hey, Adora" MY HEART - "I'll catch up okay? Get to the heart." - SW ACTUALLY DIED?? THANK YOU MY GIRLS CAN HEAL NOW

andd that's as far as I got before freaking the fuck out with everything that was happening onscreen but THE CATRADORA KISS WAS EVERYTHING and the ending was perfect 🥺💖

—

Thank you Crew-Ra, Noelle for making such a beautiful and heartwarming show, this will be remembered for years to come because what this show did was incredible and unlike anything I've ever watched.

[goodnightallwhites]

Daugherty's Daughter By BlackingPacking

Daugherty's Daughter 

By BlackingPacking 

Submitted: November 30, 2019 Updated: November 30, 2019 

Slutty white wife and mother, Charlotte Daugherty, cuckolds her husband Dan. He takes out his impotent sexual frustration on their daughter, who soon too becomes a slut for BBC 

Contains: NTR/Cuckolding, Interracial (Blacked/BBC), father-daughter incest, SPH, dubcon, very extreme 

Provided by Hentai Foundry.  

Chapter 1 - Cuckold's Frustrations 2 

Chapter 2 - Charlotte Gets What She Wants 11 

1 - Cuckold's Frustrations 

Dan Daugherty always got his wife everything she wanted. He worked for a large finance company, so he could definitely afford it. He and said wife, Charlotte, lived comfortably in their two story house with their beautiful young daughter, Phoebe. Charlotte was now nearing 40, the decade she often teased her scrawny, brown-haired husband, who was a few years older than her, for being. Still, she kept up with herself. She hadn’t worked for well over a decade, since Phoebe was born, and always spent her days at spas, salons, or get-togethers with her girlfriends. Sometimes for days on end. Dan payed for it all, of course. He was used to paying for women. 

It wasn’t only his wife. In his company, Dan was a middle ranking employee, with enough power to manage promotions that could get people higher, but he was never good enough at his job to manage much more. This meant that sometimes, timid little Dan got over his head, socially. 

This came in the form of a hot blonde girl with big dreams, big tits, a big ass, and a tiny waist. She had straight, strawberry blonde hair, and a little nametag saying Kara on her sweater. She’d work with Dan and saw how, whenever he had to talk to his wife, he never looked at ease. She took advantage of this, and eventually got him to let her suck him off. 

Under his desk, Kara put on her reddest lipstick she had on her fat, dick-sucking lips. Excited, she pulled down his pants to see... to see... 

Well, it sure was a penis. A short, needle-like one at that, nestled in some curly brown hair on his crotch, but none on his body or legs. Still, Kara wanted that raise. So she sucked him in between her lips, and not very far past, until he came in about a minute and a half. 

“What an adorable little penis,” she told him, “I’m sure your wife doesn’t give that cute dick of yours the attention it deserves. Only I see how great it is.” She’s tell him things like that all the time, making him think she was in love, until she got promoted and forgot all about him. Now Kara was his boss, and made sure to always strut in her office skirt around him. She pinched his ass and called him ‘pin dick’ at the coffee machine. She was dating some black male model now, which she never failed to flaunt. “Ever hear of BBC?” She’d ask the young office girls like she was a fucking missionary. She knew she hated missionary. “The rumors are true,” she said. He’d heard one of the office girls got a tramp stamp larger than her hand about wanting to fuck black guys. He hated Kara now, but at least he was happy with his wife. 

One weekend though, Charlotte left the house on friday and didn’t respond to her husband 

until she strutted through the front door in a new white dress with gold jewelry and her blonde hair curled beautifully. In her cream-white stilettos she was at least Dan’s height, and he wasn’t physically imposing at all either way. Besides, her little hubby couldn’t stop staring at how her bouncy tits and impossibly sexy ass looked in that dress. How could he deny her. 

The next weekend, the same thing happened. That sunday evening she returned, she wore a sky blue dress, much shorter this time, and even bigger gold jewelry. It was so short that when she walked up the stairs, he could see right between her legs and her asscrack. He stared at them like a pervy little boy. 

When he tried to fuck her that night, she said she was too tired. Still, he hadn’t got to stick Danny Jr. inside any part of Charlotte since his birthday. He had to excuse himself to the bathroom, sitting his unremarkable body on the toilet and jerking his 4 inch dick off to his own wife a few meters away until he came into the bowl. 

She promised him she’d call the next weekend. They spoke exactly once, during her lunch on Sunday, when she said she’d be coming home. 

That night, in bed, she said she wasn’t horny again. He tried to touch her pussy, but she easily swatted away his thin-wristed arms. Still, he could’ve sworn he felt her wetness. That’s when he began to think she was cheating on him. 

He wasn’t willing to confront her, of course. He hoped it was something else. That Wednesday, Charlotte brought home a shopping bag. In it was a sex toy. She said she wanted to ‘spice up’ the bedroom. That meant that she got to fuck herself with that 8 inch blue silicone bullet, while he wrapped one small hand around his cock and jerked off on his half of the bed. He thought about her cheating on him with a guy that big. A guy twice his size. Unlike last week, he came buckets. 

She felt generous then, and actually let him fuck her on Thursday. She spread her full, curvy legs for him. Her lace panties dangled from one ankle. Thrilled at finally being allowed to have sex with his own wife, he grabbed onto her, buried his face in her big, soft jugs, and fucked her as hard as he could. It lasted all of two minutes. The rest of the night, she fucked herself with the dildo again. Friday was the same. She went out, bought some new makeup, ate at some overpriced hippie cafe, and fucked herself with her new dildo that night as her hubby curled up beside her. 

Charlotte was cheating on him, of course. She met up with a black young entrepreneur, Purcell, who owned one of the African fusion restaurants she frequented. He always talked about African culture, revitalizing black youth. He had posters of Black Panther and Creed on his loft bedroom walls. Charlotte often saw them when she was riding his 12+ inch monster of a dick. She couldn’t see them so well when her back was pushed into the mattress as he drilled her deep. She always squirted on those perfect abs of his. He made her a screamer. 

The loudest she screamed though was when he put it in her asshole. For the first few times, on her nights out before that first weekend, it would hurt when he’d simply fuck her pussy. He was 3 times bigger than the dick she was used to having, after all. But soon she got stretched out and used to it. A few weekends in, that was why she bought the dildo. Dan would definitely know something was up if he tried to fuck her before. She was being generous by getting a dildo halfway between the two men in her life’s size. When Dan felt stretching, he assumed it was the toy. 

Her birthday was coming up though. The big 4 0. Purcell had promised his busty, leggy girlfriend the time of her life that weekend. But Dan also wanted to give her a real treat too. Charlotte has to do the right thing. The Friday before her birthday, she was outside Purcell’s apartment complex around 6pm right when Dan was getting home from work. She wore jean hot pants and a tight crop top t-shirt that said ‘you aren’t big enough for these.’ What a total slut. She called her husband. 

“Hey Dan, it’s Lotte,” she said boredly as he picked up. 

“Oh- um, hey baby, how’s it going? Gonna be home soon?” 

“About that, honey...” she trailed off. 

“What? Hey, I know things have been a little rough between us, but-“ 

“What? I think we haven’t been happier in years, Danny.” 

“Oh-“ he paused. 

“Do you think I’m cheating on you?” She said curtly. 

“I- buh- duh- what? No, of course I don’t think you’re cheating on me. Why would I think that. I mean, sure... my mind wandered a little wondering why you’ve been spending weekends away, but-“ he didn’t finish his thought, just running his thin fingers through his pale brown side-parted hair. God, he was dense. 

“I have been." 

“I trust you enough tha- wait, what?!” He jumped 

“I’ve been cheating on you for a month and a half now. I love you, and I want the best for our daughter, but- I also met this guy. His names Purcell, and he’s black, and he owns a restaurant, and he’s huge- well, I already said he’s black,” she giggled. Dan was speechless. “But the point is... I love him too, and I really want his birthday gift for me. Not 

that I don’t want yours but... his dick makes me feel better than your little one ever has. You just can’t make me cum, you haven’t once since college... but I promise things’ll be as wonderful as they once were if you let me do this. And I know about Kara.” She paused for effect, “so- can I?” 

“I-I-I-“ he breathed, unable to make a sound. “Yes babe, of course.” He muttered. His default response when his wife asked for something. 

“Great! Love you hun, I’ll send you pics!” She hung up just like that. 

Dan wanted to throw a hissy fit. How could he be so weak willed? How could he let his wife walk right over him like that? How long had she known about Kara? Had that been why she had to leave him- cuckold him- with a black guy? He ran into his walk in closet, expecting to cry but instead jerking off. 

He shot his load onto the carpet, and kept stroking his little dick, imagining a huge black dick pile driving his wife’s pussy. He remembered her talking about her parties in high school, how she’d always let guys fuck her before she mellowed out her senior year. Was she like this even then? How many guys in her hometown were black? 

Suddenly, Phoebe walked in, wearing short shorts and a teal tank top. “Yeah, I don’t think dad’s home. Better that way, since my door doesn’t lock, and the water’s shut off to the other upstairs bathroom.” She was on the phone. “No, I don’t wanna do it downstairs! It’s.. weird if I do it in the guest bathroom. Especially if I’m thinking about my dad!” 

What was she talking about? “You’re lucky. You got to finger yourself to your dad with your door locked.” Fingering?! “You’ve done it downstairs- wait, but I always complain that Uncle Bryce’s downstairs didn’t lock. You fucking perv!” 

Bryce... that was Charlotte's brother! You knew that Phoebe was close to her cousin Martha, but was that who was on the phone? We’re they talking about- fingering, though? And what was that about dads... 

“Yeah, talk later Martha,” that confirmed it, “have fun flicking your bean in the guest toilet to your own fuckin dad like some weirdo. I’m gonna masturbate using my dads soap and shower head, like a normal girl.” He totally ignored how much trouble he should be putting his daughter in. Dan’s little dick was hard. “Oh shut up, you jilled off to your dad first. Well I think MY dad’s hotter. Whatever, Martha. Bye, have fun!” She hung up and turned the shower on. Dan, behind her, stepped out of the closet onto the marble tiled floor of their expensive bathroom. 

“Wha- DAD?!?” Phoebe jumped, terrified as she realized what she’d been caught saying. She already had her shirt and bra off, revealing her flat, underdeveloped tits. She didn’t look 

like she would inherit her mother’s tits or ass. She looked like a girl who wasn’t old enough to be masturbating, or shouldn’t be. Her height didn’t help either. 

“D-dad,” she spoke with fear and embarrassment. He reached out and turned off the loud shower. “I-I- this-“ 

“What were you saying about me?” Asked Dan. He was ecstatic- he lost his wife, but he’d been gifted his own daughter! Phoebe was often neglected. Charlotte, that materialist bitch, preceded to hire the maid to care for her daughter. But now, Dan has a chance to prove himself as the real patriarch of this family, not some- some- some nigger who Charlotte’s big tits here were wrapped around right now... 

The thought made Dan seethe. But now, he could take out all his impotent rage on his whorish wifes own daughter. Her tiny frame would easily be overwhelmed by even his small cock. It might not have even been incest. Phoebe probably wasn’t even his. He was going to make her his though, and Charlotte would regret messing with him. 

Finally, she answered. “I- I’m turned on by you, dad... when I see mom kiss you and when you tap her ass... I wanted that too and... I’ve been thinking about it for a while... I’ve really wanted you to fuck me,” she looked up at him, suddenly terrified again, “-a-as a fantasy though! Not as an actual thing I was planning on, I swear, daddy!” 

“Oh, but,” he growled, trying and failing to sound aggressive, “I want you too,” he grabbed her thin waist and pulled her close, making her jump a little. Her flat chest barely shook. 

She looked up at him with green, pretty eyes. His were hazel. He blamed his stupid slut wife. 

“Really?” Asked Phoebe, reaching out to touch his nonexistent pectoral. 

“Yes, Phoebe baby. Your mom and I..” he grit his teeth.. “aren’t doing too well. I think I need you to make me feel better. Can you do that?” He took his hand, walking backwards towards his room. 

Daddy’s little girl, Phoebe Daugherty nodded. “Y-yes daddy. I’ll make you feel good. I’ve never done anything with a boy but I’ve seen porn. I’ll try my best.” 

“Good girl,” he said, feeling more dominant than he ever did with Charlotte. He walked out onto the carpet of the master bedroom and sat down on the large chair on the left of the bathroom doorway. Dan pushed the footrest out of the way and had his daughter kneel there instead. His rage at his own impotence and his hatred for how Charlotte was cuckolding him right now made him forget that this was even his baby girl. 

Charlotte, as Dan undid his pants again, was miles away in the stylish, urbane, gray loft 

owned by Purcell. She strutted in happily, swaying her fat white ass in the shorts that barely covered it. Purcell was on the couch in front of a table of African artifacts. He got up and welcomed her with a deep, tonguey kiss and a slap on the ass. 

“Wanna give me my present now, babe?” She breathed hotly into his wide lips. He smiled and led her into his room, where she was shocked by the presence of three more black guys. Like him, they were all over 6 feet tall and muscular. They all wore some variation of a t short and running shorts that did nothing to hide their bulges, just like Charlotte’s tiny t-shirt did nothing to hide her cleavage, or her under boob, or her hard nipples. 

“Oh- oh, my!” Charlotte’s cock-needy lips and pretty blue eyes went wide seeing the display. While her friends had introduced her to BBC porn a full year ago, she had only ever actually slept with Purcell. Now she was getting 3 new hung black guys. 

“You like my friends babe?” He asked. She nodded, pulling up her red bikini bottoms she wore under her shorts. “Glad to hear,” she bit her lip. She was getting wet just by hearing him speak. “Ever had guys run train on you?” 

“I-“ she had been in a gangbang once, as a senior in high school. Those boys were all white though, and she wasn’t the only girl there. “No,” she decided that a half dozen white guys humping her legs until their little pink dicks turned purple and shot a load like she was a Barbie doll they got to undress didn’t count. “I’ve never. But I’d love too.” 

“Hear that, boys?” Purcell slapped Charlotte on her as. Charlotte took it with a smile. They smiled back as they took off their shirts, showing the kinds of muscles that were the reason Dan never took her to the beach. She took off her wedding ring and fell into their big, strong arms, letting them kiss her and grope her. She had to look straight up to make out with the tallest one, while the one made out with her neck and another literally tore her shirt off of the swinging spheres of her tits. She liked that shitt. But she liked how they pressed their huge bulges into her sides much more. 

Meanwhile, Dan was struggling to overpower his own tiny daughter, desperate to fuck her silly. His destroyed ego demanded that Phoebe fuck him, and, although she was planning to masturbate to that very thought before he grabbed her, she was resisting. 

“Daddy- unf~ Daddy!” she pushed his arm off her nonexistent tit, while his other one was down his pants, grabbing at his dick. “This is wrong! We shouldn’t do this!” she insisted 

“Phoebe! Phoebe, please!” He yelled. He had never yelled at his daughter. His hair and eyes made him look like a mess. “D-don’t you wanna make me feel good?” 

Phoebe did want to make her dad feel good... and cum... but she wasn’t sure. Sure, he was deciding for her basically, but he never acted like this around her. He was always very 

passive, never making her do anything. Now... this? With the drip of her pussy in those short shorts she was this close to taking off, she knew she wanted it too. 

“Okay Daddy...” she breathed, hoping to not make him angry, “I’ll make you feel good.” 

“Good girl,” breathed Dan. Instead of taking his dick out though, he felt up her chest again. She was still flat as a board, but whenever he thought of his ideal tit size, all he could think of was how Charlotte probably had a huge black rod between hers. She did. He just kept massaging his daughter. Those soft, sensitive, unmanly hands of his felt her sides, her hips, and, when he bent down so far that his face was in her neck, he felt the doughy softness of her asscheeks. She turned crimson. 

He breathed heavily, overcome with perverse lust. “D-daddy’s gonna bring out his cock now, sweetie,” he told her. She simply sat on her knees with her hands on her silky thighs. He fumbled on his pant’s buttons, desperately wanting them out. Eventually he got it, and in one swift movement, he pulled his pants down to his ankles. 

Phoebe, the incestous little slut, was face-to face with her father’s own tiny, white cock. Her eyes widened, and her pussy immediately dried up. 

“W-what is that?” she asked him. 

“My dick,” said Dan, sounding nothing like her father, even though she barely knew her father. He pushed the skinny thing towards her, “Suck it.” 

“B-but why is it so small?” Phoebe really wanted to pleasure her dad, to suck him off until he shot a huge load in her face. But... this? How could she love a cock that was barely larger, in any way, than her finger? If she made a fist, it was more than twice the size of his balls. 

To her shock, the then hit her face. Not hard, he wasn’t man enough to do that. But still, a slap was a slap. 

“What did you say?” he asked her, suddenly only seeing her mother in the beautiful young girl. 

“Y-your penis isn’t that big, daddy- I-I’ve seen much bigger in porn, I’m sorry-” 

He raised his hand again, “You’ve been watching porn?!” He knew that when his wife began masturbating by herself, it was all over for him. He couldn’t believe the same was happening to his daughter. 

“N-no! I- I meant good! Your dick is sooo good, daddy! Look-” almost crying, she began to suck it. It tasted strange- plain, not at all sexy. Once, she sucked her own virgin pussy juices, 

and that got her hotter than ever before. This did one of that, even when his precum started leaking, it just tasted like water. She sucked and sucked as well as she could. Phoebe had no idea how to suck a dick, but, at the very least, her dad’s was so small that it fit right in between her little lips. He didn’t have to worry about scraping on her teeth or choking her. 

She wrapped her tongue around the quivering little white pin she desperately tried to satisfy. Dan felt great by this. He leaned his head back, and finally relaxed, as if it wasn’t clear to everyone now that he was just a pathetic, creepy white guy. His own daughter wiggled her tongue around his pencil shaft. He wasn’t even into incest, but, the quickshot that he was, once her saliva-coated tongue finsihed licking the tip of his dick inside her mouth, he started cumming. 

His orgasm was drawn out, with thin ropes of cum spraying into his daughter’s mouth slowly. It had no power or force, nothing sexy at all. She would never masturbate to her dad ever again. Instead, she just spit his cum out on his hairless thigh. 

“You’re supposed to swallow!” he yelled. Not that Charlotte had ever swallowed his cum, since he usually popped his teeny top before he even shoved it in her mouth. Phoebe just looked grossed out. His dick, as much as she wanted to love it, was now an ugly, throbbing purple. It looked like it would pop, and it wasn’t big enough to look like it should be throbbing. She said nothing 

Back in the loft, Charlotte was getting absolutely rammed. She was on the red futon, getting to experience how it really felt for BBC to run train on her. A black guy was under her, slamming his dick deep in her babymaker with his balls slapping her taint. Two more were in front of her, making her stretch her cheeks out like a chipmunk to suck both of them off at once. She was terrified of what would happen when their monster dicks, big enough to dwarf rulers, would blast their cum in her gullet. It felt so good. 

Best of all, on top of her, with hands on her shoulders and arms on the armrest, Purcell was fucking her ass, raw. No matter what the others did to her, Purcell had stayed in her asshole the entire gangbang. His 40th birthday present was a 12 and a half inches (Charlotte liked to say 13) deep of rough anal sex. His cum had been churning deep in her guts, and his thrusts now had been picking it up and making it froth out like runny butter. She felt her whole asscrack, taint, and pussy feel covered in melted fluids. If it ever got too messy, she’d just lick it up herself. She loved it. 

Her husband, meanwhile, had grabbed their little daughter and bent her over the bed, facedown, ass up, despite her protests. Without even seeing his wife lover fuck her with his massive dark fuckmeat, BBC had already totally mindbroken the timid white man. Here he was, forcing his crying daughter’s face into his and his wife’s bed’s comfoters. He spread her legs apart, staring at her beautiful, but dry pussy. 

With his pinkish red dick standing as hard as a needle, he lowered his skinny torso into her slim thighs, taking his daughter for himself. He molested her with whiny grunts, the kind that Charlotte was absolutely done with. Frustration was something that Dan had been faced with all his life, and now he was letting it all out on Phoebe. The frustration he had since the first time he first found a porno mag with huge dicks when he was fourteen, all the girls he jerked off too but wouldn’t date him, to all the porn he watched when internet porn first got big in college, even when he was dating Charlotte. All of it, all directed in his pathetic thrusts into the tiny girl. 

As he raped his virgin daughter, she felt every twitch of his dick like only a girl her size could. Even though it felt far bigger in her than her mother would’ve felt it, she didn’t enjoy it one bit. He joylessly came in her pussy, shooting his white load into her just deep enough so that its small contents couldn’t even drip out of her. He told her to get out of his room, and he slept. 

Meanwhile, Purcell had finally taken his painfully hard cock, having cum in her anus 5 or 6 times, out from between her thick asscheeks, letting her suck the soaking member clean. He and his friends gathered around Charlotte as she kneeled on the floor. They jerked off and let her jerk them off and suck them off until she looked like a bukkakke porn star. Once they all came, she was exhausted, but they wanted more. They tossed her back on the futon and had their way with her. 

Purcell came deep in her pussy enough times with enough force to not only make her squirt hotly, but to get her pregnant too. 

She would be furious with Dan when she got home, but she didn’t know that yet. Even her daughter hated Dan's small, perverted white cock more than anything. For now though, Charlotte was blissfully having the best fucking sex of her entire life. 

To be continued... 

2 - Charlotte Gets What She Wants 

“You did WHAT to her?!” screamed Charlotte. Her big slutty tits swung with every word. 

Dan, emasculates and afraid, shrunk down onto the cushions of the light gray, modern style couch. On the other side of the coffee table, Phoebe was curled up. She looked at her father with nothing but hatred. 

“YOU SICK FUCKING FUCK,” Charlotte kept screaming, “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOUR STUPID PUSSY ASS DO TO OUR DAUGHTER? What the FUCK did you do?” 

“I-I-“ he backed up, scared of his adulterous wife. Dan was in a t-shirt and boxer underwear, while Charlotte was in a pink sundress, and Phoebe was in a tank top and volleyball shorts. 

“You AGREED I was going to have a FUCKING MARVELOUS weekend- and it’s all ruined this morning by a call from my FUCKING DAUGHTER about her IMPOTENT BITCH OF A DAD FUCKING RAPING HER WITH HIS STUPID TINY COCK! Am I WRONG?” She slammed her fist against the couch with every word. 

Dan was, as always, too wimpy to disagree. 

“Mom- wha- what’s going on?” Asked Phoebe. 

Charlotte turned to her beloved white daughter. She walked over and knelt in front of her, saying, “Oh, sweetie, it’s mommy’s business. Grown up stuff, nothing you’d understand.” 

“Mom,” said the girl who, even though she was babies, was still old enough to regularly watch porn and masturbate her smooth little cunt. 

“What? Yes, baby, mommy’s here,” Charlotte calmed her down, “mommy’s just, um, got a new boyfriend that’s all. And sometimes mommy goes and sees him. That’s okay, right?” 

“Mom,” grumbled Phoebe, “I’m not fucking 6. I know you cheated on him!” 

Charlotte looked back. She paused. “Alright, yes- mommy cheated on daddy. I’m a fucking whore, a total fucking SLUT cockwhore bitch. But you saw him! You saw that your dad is a sick, perverted, useless, weird piece of trash, right?” 

Phoebe nodded. “He’s so gross! I’ll never think the same way of him again! I mean, I guess it’s the same for you, mom, but at least you’ve got a reason. I... I’d wanna get f-fucked by a real man too! And he’s... hes just-” 

“A little fucking L O S E R?” her mom volunteered. Phoebe nodded along. 

“H-hey,” stuttered Dan. The scrawny white man crawled up from his fetal position, “S-she was on the phone, talking about sexual things with her cousin! About having sex with me and your brother! A-and she watches porn too!” 

“Didn’t I tell you to SHUT THE FUCK UP!?” screeched Charlotte. Her cuck hubby was soon put in his place. “So what? She’s young and stupid. We were too, remember? The difference is, when I had kinky fantasies, you were always too pathetic to do them! You’d fucking cum in a minute and then roll over and go to fucking sleep! If you wanted to rape someone, rape me ten years ago! Then I wouldn’t have become a fucking anal fuckslut! This is your fault!” 

With shaking arms, she turned to her daughter, “And of course I wouldn’t judge you for watching porn! That’d be such fucking hypocrisy! After all, I’m the one who had a train run on her with four fucking black cocks last night! The only problem Phoebe and her cousin has is they still think white BITCHBOYS can do it!” 

“F-four?” Dan sounded like he was tearing up. 

“Oh fuck yeah honey. My REAL man Purcell and three of his friends.” The room went quiet. “What? Oh, yeah, stay quiet. Because there’s nothing you can say about how I’m a fucking whore for biiiig, blaaack COCKS! I fucking fit four huge fucking black dicks up this asshole,” she pulled her dress up and showed her gaping anus to her husband and daughter, “They fucking shot their fucking cum all the way up my dirty fucking asshole. And it’s fucking thick too, unlike yours! I bet you fucking wish you could do that, huh? With that fucking little stupid 4 inch peice of shit! Do you wanna know how big my lovers were?” 

“H-how big?” asked Dan weakly as he was slumped on the couch. 

Charlotte noticed a tiny tent on her loser husband’s boxers. She wrinkled her nose at it, but then lunged at him. She grabbed at his underpants. Her boobs swung in his face. She easily overpowered him, throwing hus underwear on the floor. 

Exposed to his ruined family was Dan’s four inch skinny little white boy cocklet. It stood up straight and hard in the thin, soft bush that was his excuse for body hair. 

“Fucking fuck. Look at that pathetic LITTLE thing. My BULLS were fucking three times that big! The smallest was 10 inches, the biggest was fucking 13! THIRTEEN! How could your little fucking dick compare, huh? HUH?” 

She turned around. Phoebe was staring at his penis with disdain. Though neither girl thought penis was the best word. 

“Is that it, sweetie? That’s the thing that defiled you, right?” asked Charlotte. 

Phoebe nodded. “Yes, mom... it’s fucking gross. I can’t believe I had a fucking incest fetish...” 

“It’s alright baby- it’s alright. Look. Hey, BITCH!” She yelled at her husband, “I’m gonna get our fucking daughter some good porn with some good dicks so she can forget about your little loser thing, 

alright? And never touch her again, you- you- you fucking sick fucking fuck!” She punctuated her scolding with a few sharp kicks to his tiny, shaking balls. 

“AAAh! OW OW OW! H-HONEY- m- my-” 

“Your what? Your fucking little cuck balls? The ones that can’t produce enough fucking sperm to make a girl feel even fucking halfway filled! Look! Look...” she walked over to Phoebe. “Take your pants off, baby. I wanna show him how different cum can be. And how, even if this shitbag who owns our house took your virginity, your sex life can still be a fucking blast, alright baby?” She asked her daughter. Phoebe nodded and slipped off her leggings. Charlotte hiked her skirt all the way up. 

Both were smooth pussied, but Charlotte’s was shaved, with looser, darker lips, while Phoebe’s was natural. A pretty pink tight pussy. She might has well have been a virgin. 

“Now spread your legs,” instructed Charlotte. Phoebe obeyed. “Now look at the cum left over from last night.” The house’s matriarch fingered her daughter, eventually coaxing out a flow of sticky liquid which dripped onto her hand. Charlotte grabbed a china plate from the coffee table and smeared Dan’s cum on it. 

“Look at that,” whispered Charlotte mockingly, “look how thin it looks!” she was right. Dan’s shrivelled balls had given them watery, impotent cum of either a boy much younger or a man much older than him. It only even looked white when it was clumped together. 

“And now,” she said while standing up and spreading open her asscheeks right over the fancy plate, “mommy’s black boyfriend’s cum.” she pushed hard and stretched her asshole out with two fingers until eventually a big steady stream of smooth, thick, rich, creamy cum came out. All of it was plump and healthy. It landed with a splogsh and made a big, opaque puddle on the plate. It was almost yellowish it was so creamy. And it totally eclipsed Dan’s tiny load. 

“See who’s superior?” asked Charlotte. 

“T-that’s a wedding gift...” was all he could whimper about the show on the expensive plate. 

“Oh boo fucking hoo, I squirted black cum out of my ass onto our shitty wedding present,” she grabbed a matching china cup and brandished it, “What if I fucking pissed in this one and made you fucking drank it? How would you feel about that, huh?” she waved the cup around under her pale white crotch, “if you’re lucky maybe you’d fucking get to drink some of their delicious cum with my piss. How about fucking that? You should fucking respect what I do for you and listen to what I fucking say! Ungrateful little pervert piece of shit! Apologize!” 

“Yes,” he curled up again, this time closer to the edge of the couch. “I’m sorry Charlotte... I’m sorry Phoebe... for being a perverted POS.” 

“Good. Now I have an errand to run. Don’t you even dare fucking move. And don’t even FUCKING LOOK at Phoebe!” she pulled her skirt down, grabbed a coat and her purse, slipped back on her slutty high heels, and strutted out the door. 

Once she was gone, Phoebe got up. She sniffled a little. Even though her pussy’s wetness said that, like her mother, she got off on being a snowbunny dom, she was still upset at what happened to her family. 

“I hope you’re happy with mom only fucking black guys now. And never you, ever again,” she said as she took out her phone and opened it up. 

Dan sniffled too, sounding more like a bitching little dog than a man. He wasn’t the man of this house anymore. He hadn’t ever been, since Charlotte discovered black cock, but now he knew it. His head was buried in between his smooth, effeminate legs, and he was sitting on his scrawny ass and feet, with his tiny little balls poking out from his crotch. It looked like a pale hackeysack covered in thin straw. Wasn’t much bigger than one either. Over it hung the soft, impotent little worm that was his cock. Keyword was. Now it was a useless little twig of flesh. 

Dan pissed himself. His little dicklet perked up, and out of it came a steady, pale flow of piss from the organ which now was only for that. It tinkled all over his little balls. The hair got wet, but looked no thicker. Some got on his thighs, covering his pointless manhood in his cowardice. He was like a dying animal, emptying his bladder all over himself when he felt it was all over. It was, in a way, for him. He cried as he soaked the couch cushion. 

Phoebe walked over to the front entryway, on the side of which was a cushioned, round area to the left of the front door, bordered by windows. She sat down in it to talk on her phone. She’d already gone to contacts, and scrolled to the number for Kevin. 

Kevin Gold was a young white kid and a school friend of Phoebe’s. He was around her height, with light blonde hair with a touch of strawberry, smooth skin and a youthful face. He was average in body, but still rather attractive, and was madly in love with Phoebe Daugherty. Little did he know, she had a crush on him too. 

When he picked up the phone though, he answered as her best friend. 

“Hey, Phoebe. What’s up?” 

She sniffled, “I don’t know, Kev. My parents are fighting, and... I don’t know how to feel. My dad’s a piece of shit, but my mom’s... so different about it. I think I got it. But I think I’ll be fine. I just need someone to talk to. Can we talk? Not about me. About... about something else. Okay?” 

Kevin, of course, agreed. They talked for a bit, and Phoebe felt better. Kevin told her to just trust in herself. With some soul searching, Phoebe realized how different she felt. How her slutty black cock loving mom awakened something in her. Just then, Phoebe had to hang up, because her mom was back. 

She walked back into the living room. Her dad was still sitting on the couch, but not crying anymore. 

Charlotte burst through the door. Shopping bags were in her ams and a strange smile was on her face. It was a look she hadn’t had all day. From the moment she walked in and said, “Alright, my happy little white family, let’s see what the real world has for us,” both new something was up. 

Phoebe was getting excited. She was proud to be this woman’s daughter. While she had very quickly grown to despise her father, she replaced all of that with how, sexually, she admired her mom so much more. Her mother looked like a million bucks- she put some makeup on, maybe did her hair a little, but that wasn’t the point. If her hair was a rat’s nest she’d still be the same. Her sexy body filled out that lilac dress perfectly, and the way she carried herself made her tits and thighs ooze with sex appeal. She was a woman who knew and got what she wanted. Fuck whatever her disgusting, cuckold husband had to say about it. 

Charlotte looked down at Dan and saw how red his eyes were, and how the couch under him had a soaked puddle. 

She exploded. “WHAT THE FUCK, YOU PATHETIC LITTLE PEICE OF SHIT? DID YOU FUCKING PISS YOURSELF LIKE SOME FUCKING LITTLE BRAT? YOU PISSED YOURSELF AND ITS ALL OVER YOUR USELESS, UGLY LITTLE STUPID IMPOTENT DICKLET, UGH AND YOUR BALLS AND MOST IMPORTANTLY MY FUCKING COUCH? YOU’D BETTER CLEAN THAT UP!” 

Dan squeaked and got up, running to the kitchen to get paper towels and spray. 

“Good,” she hissed, “like a good little dog,” she turned to their daughter, “So, how are you feeling now?” 

Just as her mom was honest, Phoebe was too. “I like what you’re doing. Dad’s always been... a little weird. But now I realize it wasn’t the kind of weird that, um... gets me wet. But what you do, like, like, the way you take control? I like that. I wanna be like you. And this talk of black guys?” Charlotte grinned. “You like thinking of that. Those massive, throbbing, lengthy, hot black dongs? You ever seen porn with black guys?” Phoebe quickly turned beet red. Charlotte smiled, “It’s good if you have. I’m so fucking jealous that you’re already exposed to porn at your age. I didn’t even have the chance to get online porn until I was almost 20! And there wasn’t anywhere near as much Blacked stuff then.” 

Phoebe worked up the nerve to nod ‘yes’ to her mother. 

Another smile. “I’m so proud of you!” she beamed, like momma like daughter, Phoebe had more than enough for the seed of a braindead snowbunny slut to grow in her underdeveloped white little body. She might not have been as busty or curvy as her mother, but Phoebe promised there and then to be twice the alpha girl slut. 

And poor little Dan, having cleaned up his mess, tried to stand up to speak to his wife, but was soon knocked down. “NO! Me and my black bulls own this house now, not you! If you wanted to be a man, you shouldn’t have been so weak, or whiny like a baby. You should’ve been able to make me cum! But now I’ve got better men for that. And speaking of...” She took out her phone, turned on apple TV, and showed off her photo gallery. 432 pictures and videos were taken last night. A cache of amateur pornography featuring one Charlotte Daugherty and 4 black studs. 

She started playing the videos. First was one with her kissing the camera sluttily, then walking back to pose with Purcell in a wide variety of ways. The next video showed her pointing out the bulge in his 

pants, then taking his shirt off to make out with him and lick his hot black abs. He flexed a bit for the camera before going to the next vid. He took it out in that one, and Charlotte’s whole family got to see how it was as long as her arm. 

In the room, while a video of the other three guys unsheathing their meats played behind her, Charlotte stripped her dress of. Her perfectly smooth pussy and her bouncing tits were great, and she didn’t wear underwear, of course. She sung ‘happy birthday to me’, as the TV had her giving Dan the middle finger. 

“Come on!” Said today’s Charlotte, “let’s get some fun group stuff going. Family porn night! Starring mommy!” She grinned evily as she sat down next to Phoebe. She encouraged her daughter to strip. Her pants already had a dark stain. 

Dan and Phoebe began masturbating across the room to the TV showing Charlotte lick all around the heads of all their cocks. The lady of the house ran off upstairs to get her dildo. When she came back, Phoebe was lounging back, butt naked, and confidently flicking her little bean to her mom gasping at the huge loads of cum that were now getting dumped on her face. Meanwhile Dan was hunched over pathetically. He tugged his little cock hard. It’s tininess, along with his boring hairstyle and skinny bday, made him look like a child compared to his daughter. And forget his wife. 

“Oo, look at him!” Laughed Charlotte, tapping Phoebe’s shoulder to get her to look over, “little losers trying to tug that tiny thing! Isn’t that fucking pathetic? Can’t you see why I need this?” she laughed, pulling the thick dildo out of her. Phoebe laughed too. 

“But mom, you take a bigger one in the vid,” she pointed at her screen with her free hand. 

“True- this toys just to tide me over. Better than hubby, you know?” She thrusted it into her gaping pussy a few more times. Her nasty juices flew across the room with a loud shlicking sound. Phoebe’s only trickled down her taint and onto her little pink pucker butthole. Charlotte took out the plastic cock and handed it to her daughter, “wanna go?” 

Phoebe shook her head, “I can’t take that.” 

Her mom smiled, “You’d better learn soon baby girl, if you wanna get blacked.” 

She stared at the size of the thing. “Never seen one up close but... it’s scary,” she chuckled, “I’d rather just watch.” 

“Then you’ll get tons of live shows.” 

“Mmmm. I’m already loving this. Just as good as the pro stuff I watch.” Phoebe was referring to Charlotte getting her ass pounded and her blonde hair painted white by those black hunks. 

“Thats cuz they’re black,” giggled Charlotte, “white guys in porn always wear fake dicks, that shoot fake cum and all that. Interracial’s real though. No faked orgasms there.” Charlotte put her leg up on the coffee table and aggressively rubbed her clit, “and I’ll never have to again.” 

They kept watching as Charlotte deepthroated every black cock. Every vid ended with them cumming their manly loads into her throat. They led her to the bedroom, with the camera on her swaying ass, where she had a train run on each and every hole. She was made airtight, first by their huge cocks and then by their thick cum. 

They just kept going. Dan usually got petered out after he came once after a few minutes, then rolled over and slept as Charlotte uncomfortably masturbated until she fell asleep. These guys seemed to have infinitely full balls . After they made the bed dirty with spilling loads, they tossed the tired white whore onto the floor, jacking off over her. They set the foundation for a full body coat of thick black cum. 

With a pathetic groan and three fingers wrapped around his dick, Dan started cumming. Instead of shooting anything out of his needle-like pink dick, it just dribbled onto the floor. 

“Ch-Charlotte,” he groaned. 

“Shut the fuck up! Your daughter and I are trying to masturbate to PURCELL’s friends running train on me. Purcell could cum like 9 times last night without a problem. Can your stupid balls only muster one fucking load? Try and at least be man enough to make another load!” She shut him up. 

Then there were the ones on her face. Tons of cum was unloaded onto her cheeks, in her eyes, on her cleavage and hair. It just kept going, until she was barely even fucking them any more, and just being jacked off too. Soon, every inch of skin above her knees hand some sort of man juice on it. Mostly her pussy, under her ass, her tits, and her unrecognizable face. She got to the point where their fat loads of cum landing on her weak white skin made her cum. Every single time. 

“See Phoebe? That’s what real men do. Not like your dad over there, cumming into his hand.” 

Phoebe looked over. Her dad was leaking out thin white juices onto his scrawny fingers. “How’d you even get pregnant?” She asked her mom. She paused. “Is he really my dad?” 

Charlotte looked away from her husband as he collapsed exhausted on the ruined couch. “Well, I’m shocked he managed to get me pregnant even once. But you’re his alright. I’d never cheat with another white boy. But hey. You got my beautiful eyes.” 

“I kinda wish guys like, unf, unf, that,” she pointed to the TV, “were my dad.” 

To clean off, they dragged Charlotte to the shower, where she could barely stand. Instead she pumped their cocks, worshiped their balls, and even rimmed their assholes. All their cum newly clogged the drain. After, they made her dry them off, and then lick up their cum off the floor. 

At around 2 AM according to when the video was taken, she passed out when she was halfway done, facefirst into a puddle of cum. 

Phoebe came. 

“Aaah!” She yelled, thrusting her hips over the armrest of the white cushioned couch. Her orgasm squirted all over dad’s men’s health magazines that he never read. “They really did that, mom?” 

She nodded. “It’s weird telling you, sweetie, but yeah. Mommy’s a fucking abuse slut for big black cock.” 

“It’s hotter than weirder. God, that was the best I’ve ever cum.” 

“Well, that’s black guys. And now” she kept swiping through her phone, showing them photos of the bulls taking advantage of Charlotte’s unconscious body on the tv. Weird things were stuffed in her asshole, and she was fucked in multiple uncomfortable positions like a rag doll. 

“Fuck,” Charlotte bit her lip, “I didn’t know they did- did- did... did that!” Her pussy exploded with a waterfall of orgasm, even wetting the TV screen a little. 

“There it is!” She sat back and sighed, “it’s like every time I cum to black guys it’s better.” 

A bit after, she saw Dan getting up. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” She asked, less angry now. 

“C-cleaning up my mess?” 

She laughed, “your widdle loads? Barley a mess. And don’t do it with clothes on. Strip.” 

“I-“ 

“Did I fucking stutter?” 

He frowned and stripped. He prided himself on looking youthful, but honestly he just looked pathetic. Thin, featureless white skin, and a fitting tiny, soft little penis, barely poking out of his crotch. 

She smiled as she walked over to pick up her bag, “good, baby. We’re not going to pretend you’re not pathetic and inferior anymore in this house, alright sweetie?” 

“Yes, dear,” he got on all fours to wipe up god cum. She ran her foot up and down his effeminate asscrack possesively. 

“And we won’t be bringing what you did to Phoebe to the authorities because you’re going to admit that you’re a pathetic little cuckold, and us ladies are gonna be enjoying all the black cock we want now.” 

“W-what?” 

“Yes babe. Did you think I was gonna stop cheating on you? After realizing what a freak you are, I can barely stomach you now. But I might forgive you if you let me fuck all the black guys I want, when I want, where I want, and how I want. Not for some reward, but out of the goodness of your heart. Sound good?” 

He looked down at his flaccid manhood. It was as wimpy as he was. He nodded in agreement to her terms. 

“Great! That makes me so happy Dan, you don’t even know!” She dishes through her bag and got a box out. The back was legal fine print and faced Dan, “can you say it?” She asked. 

“I- I’m a white cuckold... I’m small...” 

“And?” 

“And pathetic, and I barely cum and can’t make my wife cum.” 

“And?” 

“And I’m a perv who r-raped his own daughter because... because I’m a white loser who was so insecure,...” 

“But now...?” 

“N-now I’m happy to let you f-fuck,” he started tearing up, “all the black c-c- guys you want.” 

“Good boy. Did you enjoy your orgasm?” 

“Yeah,” sniffled her submissive hubby. 

“Good,” she turned the box around, “because it’s the last you’ll have in a while.” The box had a picture of plastic in the shape of a small penis, titled ‘THE LOCK HIM UP CHASTITY CAGE- size small.’ 

“W-what?” 

“What what? I said I’d forgive you, but you have to make it up for me. So like a good little white cuckold, you’re going to be locked away in this little chastity cage. I’ll keep the key, and you can only cum when I say so. Agreed?” 

He nodded. Totally impotent. 

“Good,” she took it out, read the instructions, and started to put it on. Phoebe came over to watch. She slipped the cock ring over his tiny worm, then putting the cage over it, screwing it on, and finally locking it all together with a little gold padlock. 

Both Phoebe and Charlotte laughed at his baby dick all locked away in his new cuckold cage. It was a clear plastic tinted pink, fitting for the little bitch it was on. It was a little heavy, and pulled down his crotch a little. 

“And this thing scared me?” Laughed Phoebe, flicking it and watching it wiggle and twitch. 

“To think I married that thing,” replied Charlotte. Dan was still speechless. 

“Let’s sample our new life, how about that?” 

“Sample?” Asked Phoebe and Dan in unison. 

“That’s right,” smiled Charlotte, showing them both her phone. On it were recent texts from contacts Darnel, Jamie, Kyan, and Purcell. “I invited the guys over. We’re having another gangbang here, in one hour.” 

[racheljchen]

story vomit

-hong kong runaway idea reality in mental hospital? mr robot perfect blue -blue hour love "i wanna be scary" heart break shaves eyebrows red lipstick black panther for asians space? dreamjng of home story about learning to let go and putting yourself first story about choosing happiness, prolonged misery JYN AND CASSIAN IMMORTALS her fingers ruffled through soft locks of his hair, and her heart swelled. it was too little and too much all at once, after all the years apart, how could she have ever doubted wanting to be by his side again? Now that he was in her arms the certainty seemed to settle into an unshakable truth, that she and he were meant to return to each other, circling each other, standing by the other's side no matter the circumstances of the rest of the foolish world. the girl from before, who only knew of solitude, of running, looking over shoulder at every turned would have thought this new certainty unthinkable. it might have terrified her or disgusted her, but the Jyn of now was a different woman. his eyes caught her transfixed gaze and crinkled with a smile she knew better than her own. no words needed to break the cozy silence for the understanding to pass between them. there was nothing she wanted more than to crush his body to hers, to hold him gently and never let go again but the feeling overwhelmed her and she could only continue to cradle his head in her lap, stroking a finger down the jawline she loved. mine. mine. her heart said, touching a body that was not her own, this skin which would pierce me to be bruised, these bones which would shatter her to be broken. hours later, after many hushed words had passed between them, describing in few short words the many hard years that had passed for each of them, as the sky began to flush lilac with the rising  sun, they broke apart with much hesitance. after several failed attempts on cassian's part to urge her to the fresher for a much needed shower, she finally relented breaking the connecting touch betwen them. jyn couldnt contain the tiniest childish pout. how could she miss holding him within seconds of relinquishing the contact? annoyed at feeling like a childish teenager but still petulant to let go. "go!" urged cassian, his eyes crinkling with a grin, and then, of course how she resist grabbing his smiling face again and kissing those grinning lips. cassians arms could not help but to circle around her waist but of course he was the one with the greater self restraint and he withdrew them after a few moments, pushing her gently towards the fresher door. under the hot satisfying spray Jyn allower herself the luxury of a quick moment to just enjoy the comforts of a life not based on the next meal, next job, and the overhanging urgency of survival, before she got to work scrubbing off the unholy layers of grime on her body. as she lathered suds into her hair, the fresher door clicked open with a soft hiss, and she peered through the fogged shower door at cassian, who of course smiled at her again, and she marveled at the ease of his surrending unlimited smiles for her when he was a man of few smiles for the rest of the universe. and with that her traitorous heart was off again, squeezing with the overwhelming painful joy of having him by her side again. cassian rinsed his toothbrush, finished with brushing his teeth. with a mischievous grin he peeled of his under shirt and dropped his trousers to the floor. steam poured out of the fresher as he slipped in beside her, putting his rough hands on the soft slick skin of her waist. jyn hooked her arms around his neck and tiptoed up to kiss him, soft sweet and slow, and they stood under the spray, feeling each other up like teenagers until suddenly Jyn shrieked. "Ah! Sorry, sorry, the boiler tank is small, I've been wanting to install a bigger one-" Jyn laughed despite the freezing spray erasing her comfortable warmth by the second. "get out you horn dog i still have to rinse out my hair" one of them gets executed but comes back to life cassian? comes back to find jyn and their child // cassian as a fire breathing bar tender modern au where they're divorced drug cartel AU krennic and galen in the cia/dea jyn smuggles or deals arms or something cassian is an undercover DEA agent cassian riding a horse, wearing a cowboy hat, smoking patron notices cassian is into jyn and 'gives' her to him "you're a lucky guy" thats just a nice way to say i want to fuck your girl jyn if you do this i can't protect you ive known these guys my whole life and you think you can get into this game for a couple months and i need you to protect me from them i dont mean from them cassian joserra jerome antonio anglés andrez after they settle down: oh where did you guys meet jyn: tinder // divorced soulmates when they meet jyn can tell its something special. she's been around the block enough to know that this one wasn't for messing around, that they meant too much to each other. cassian tamed her and she brought him to life and his friends were all supportive of course, relieved he had found some joy at last, that he finally had a reason to leave the office without putting in overtime more days of the week than not, a reason for brief smiles to stsrt escaping his serious outward demeanor. all they saw was cassian hiding a smile in a tumblr of mezcal st the bar with them, watching jyn dance with han and kes, twirling around them with smooth confidence as they tried not to trip on their own feet. how could it be anything but good? jyn knows cassian would never hurt her on purpose so she lets herself fall too easily, then slowly her life revolved around him. he occupied her throughts, her space, and she became nothing more than a part of cassian, his wife, as honoured and respectable as the role was she became suffocated with being introduced as his wife, people telling her what a great man her husband was, and she became defined by him, strangers assuming insight of her. when she leaves she finds herself all alone, realising all the friends she had were gifted to her by cassian, and the thought infuriates her. not at cassian, never at cassian, but at her past self for allowing this to happen, blind to painfully learned lessons to always have an escape route in sight, to rely on herself first and foremost. when she leaves, the pain is unbearable. she cries and she cries herself to sleep, and when she wakes up she's temporarily soothed her mind betraying her with the false sense that all the pain was just a bad dream and she would roll over and see cassian there, soft and warm and comforting and ready to hold her close and kiss the nightmare away. but the realisation came quick and she would be sobbing again. in the end it was only her stubborn pride that saved her the indignity of crawling back to him on her knees begging. or maybe it was the stone pit on her stomach that said you did this. you hurt him like this, and for what? how can you deserve to try and salvage what was perfectly good before you picked it up and smashed it on the ground just to see how the splinters would fall? when the fog of misery starts to fade though, she is relieved. even as she sits in her crappy, hole in the wall apartment, eating left over pizza for a undignified amount of times in a month, she is so relieved to be free. even if the AC keeps crapping out and she's sweating in February and bodhi has been the only other person to visit her apartment she is so relieved. her thoughts were her own again and she was so happy she could cry "jyn you will always be my family. you know that right?" she doesn't deserve it cassian walking barefoot in the shore wash at blue hour this pain wasn't unbearable but it was a unique brand of torturous. knowing exactly what she wanted was right in front of her, seeing it, touching it in soft polite embraces that lingered just on the dangerous end of perfunctory hellos and goodbyes. she's already had a taste of exactly everything she wants (not needs, not anymore, and that made the pain tolerable but a new unique brand of torturous), and she couldn't have it. she threw it all away. no regrets could be had, she would have never made it here without giving it up, but it certainly didnt help when they sat on the opposite ends of the friends spanning a bar counter and her attention still strayed from whatever kes was talking about to start at his lips, soft  from worrying at the glass tumbler in his hand, hearing the memory of the laugh she only watched escape from him in real life as it was lost in the din of the bar. "i forgave you for literally tearing my heart apart the first time, but as much of a masochist as i am, I can't give you permission to do it again. so what is it jyn?" "come on jyn. it doesn't take an idiot to see how much we still care about each other" their scars are the only soft and tender part on them, new and innocent skin next to hard won calluses cassian's ex wife meet first time when cassian gets backup for his mission huge sexual tension competence porn celebrating successful mission, cassian shoots his shot she reveals she used to be in intelligence "understand this captain andor. i have a lot of respect for what you do. it's horrid work but it needs to be done. matter of fact i started in intelligence. but the one thing i know, is the kind of person that can stand that line of work, the kind of person i was back then, thats not the kind of people i want to break bread with" she pulls rank on him despite him being older and more experienced. "in my branch you get promoted fast because you die fast" cassian was being pessimistic/realist sbout expected bad outcome but young recruit is horrified more massive sexual tension at a bar or something, she goes outside to make out with some rando guy, cassian follows her and chases him off and kisses her. not nice and tender, hatefuck in an alleyway but it's so hot doesn't see each other again fuck in a tent, fuck in the showers start to bond, see each other's honour and kindess. after a bad mission she's doubting herself, unable to sleep, cassian takes her to a secret vantage point. "sometimes i think i'm a dispicable person" "not to me" he kisses her "what, really here?" where they're in constant threat of being walked in on "no." they just make out and its tender snd loving and it scares her off and she avoids him for a while cassian gets captured and held in solitary confinement for months, mentally tortured, starved. tries to escape, gets punished. gets fucked up in the head. draven and elkie are the only one pushing to find him and break him out.  after cassian is found and returns to base he's a shell of himself, spooked, makes intense eye contact with elkie as he passes her but no aknowledgement of their signifigance to each other. after medical checks he's left alone and starts to panic, but before he freaks out fully, she comes into his room with shaving kit and a peach. she cuts a few slices for him to enjoy because hes not really allowed fruit, talks to him and shaves him as he heals she arranges for him to be put in a room with a chatty old soldier who keeps telling him old war stories, and visits him whenever she back on base. after a particularly bad mission. she crawls into his hospital bed in the middle of the night. after he's discharged, she sleeps with him whenever she can, calming him down after nightmares. one night he knows she's sleep deprived and needing to wake up early for important things the next day and tells her to stop sacrificing her sleep to help him. she's quiet before she asks if he is making her leave. he says no, so she just snuggles up to him. he realizes she prefers being woken up all night to sleeping without him. one say when cassian's feeling like he cant stand being amongst the people on the base in the mess hall, she brings him back to the vantage point to have lunch. they fuck but it's making love. something in between she gets captured and tortured. breaks leg. cassian rescues her. cassian cares for her in the immediate aftermath, she wakes up to him asleep in the hospital chair after he comes back from his own mission back on base, superiors want to send her off base to recuperate and get better PT, she really doesn't want to go, she knows she might never make it back and lose her nerve and her mind. their sleeping in cassian's bed and she admits this. he says there's desk work she can do on base. "married officers get first choice of postings" she's stunned by the insinuation "i need to know you arent whoring yourself out out of some misplaced need to take care of me. just because you slept with me a couple times doesn't mean i'm your responsibility." "i need to know you aren't... offering... out of convenience. just a loophole to help me out" "i'm not. i can't live without you anymore" they get married, she takes his name. captain andor and captain andor she drops off the grid for an extended period of time, she sees him in a crowd and he thinks she's a hostile, tries to take her down but she takes off her mask and goggles she dies in his arms CASSIAN'S LITTLE SISTER/DAUGHTER cassian's 16 she's 8, he saves her and has to babysit her for a while around rogue one she's 18 starting to do field work as an agent cassian as fulcrum is not nice or friendly but mentors her and takes care of her she just starts acting like a friend even though she has no reason to treat him like one bonds with jyn they go to each other when they're concerned about cassian, jyn tells her about a miscarriage, she tells jyn about PTSD she doesn't want to admit to cassian later as peace becomes more viable and cassian less cold and jaded, he starts to act like her family and at first it scares her off a bit she's hostile, says you don't have any right treating me like a child considering how you treated me in the past CASSIAN JYN F1 bodhi jyn both trained by legendary race strategist galen erso (betrays imperial team and orson krennic?) bodhi was trained to to compete and be great, jyn was thrown in and not expected by others to be a real competitor jyn joins f1 with saw gerrera's partisans, low midfield team, strapped for cash bodhi drives with his brain jyn drives with her gut bodhi tells her she can be truly great when she masters melding the thinking and control with her raw talent jyn podiums once and is over the moon but cassian isnt happy for her and she doesnt understand cassian says she doesnt understand racing yet, put herself on the line for revenge, had no way of knowing she was gonna survive her dirty trick and she only won when almost half the field retired calls her hotheaded and not ready cassian was an excellent ruthless driver, would drive dirty to make the win very good (champion?) gets into bad crash (jyn saves him?) and retires, join rebellion as race strategist cassian suggests jyn as new driver leia backs him up jyn helps cassian with his PT and tells him he doesn't have to put on a mask for her and he allows himself to show that he's in pain jyn falls asleep in cassian's hotel room and when he tucks her in she grabs him and they fall asleep together at a party after a good win jyn's tipsy and grabs cassian and starts singing and dancing in his face and cassian is laughing and loving every moment jyn's championship title comes down to the last race she gets a rough bump that physically takes a toll on her she has a good lead but she blows a tire and limps home (krennic gets on the radio somehow to try and break her confidence?) cassian: "do your best, bring her home. i'm right here jyn, I'm with you to the end. I'm not going anywhere" jyn wins a championship and retires she's proved herself after no one thought she would, defeated vader for a season she knows she doesn't have a strong chance of doing it again and wants to make room for luke and han so they don't join imperial F1 STORY young hotshot female driver gets put into falling from glory ferrari with him he used to be eyed as the next great talent but in a shit car he doesn't have any accomplishments to show and is starting to lose the hype and his drive to win she idolizes him, after a race where she does very well for a rookie and he delivers good but not great results, she goes into his driver's room and congratulates him on a good drive out of a need to assert control he fucks her he's trying to massage his own shoulder, she says here let me help, get close, talking, he turns to catch her eye and realises how close they are and kisses her fucks her on the desk, hot and dirty after their lustful scramble he comes back yo his senses and is a bit ashamed of what he's done kisses her on the forehead and leaves, saying see you tomorrow they keep hooking up throughout her rookie season, and spending time together in the public eye, her sweet genuine humorous personality tempers his steely cold and focussed persona and media and fans eat it up, everyone loves them as old gruff dude and young hotshot jokester duo two seasons like that as they grow closer there's a picture of him as a f1 rookie giving 14yo her a trophy forehead kisses become a meme she tells him what he already knows, he needs to jump ship from the team he loves in order to win he signs with a top three team as she continues to get more experience at their old team throughout the season they continue hooking up and hanging out in winter break they spend a lot of time with each other, to the point it seems like they're dating but theyve never discussed it he wins a world championship, realises the only person he wants to celebrate with is her she gets signed to a title contender team next time they hook up he's being a tender and says something commitment related she freezes up "what did you think this is" "yeah of course anyone would jump at the chance to fuck their idols, that doesn't mean their idols would be a good person to settle down with" "did u think i would fall in love with you just because i look up to you? im not some groupie. as if you weren't just taking advantage of me the first time, cheating on your girlfriend. im smart enough to know I'm not special, if you did it to her you certainly have it in you to do it to me" "i think we should stop doing this" breakup, theyre both heartbroken he feels betrayed, thinking the girl he's in love with just used him she doesn't want to admit she really did fall for him he gets signed to the same team as her the whole world is super excited to see their chemistry again but they're super cold, barely together, barely acknowledge each other press conference she blows off the question of whether she's excited to be teammates again he gets into tabloids rumored to be dating hot celebs they have a bad rivalry on the track fighting for positions gets double retirement and other bad things eventually he realises she only pushed him away out of self preservation and she mist have loved him to have done so much and cared for him the way she did he apologizes and asks her to give them a chance she's shocked but she agrees, but she says they shouldnt be together until the season is over cue sexual tension she misses him too much and he comes into her hotel room to get a fright shes in his bed and they cuddle she wins the championship after 5 years of being together and racing, he retires proposes to her, to the shock of the world

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

prompt: “pilot.”  for the weeklong #ProjectTheresa fanfiction challenge!

this one ran away from me and got super long so I’m throwing it under a cut

“Douglas, if you could, would you mind checking on G-ERTI? I’ve got to see about these blasted NOTAMs...something about thunderheads over Dresden…”

“Certainly, Martin. No rush.”

Douglas closed the door. Walking down the ramp, he muscled a luridly-yellow safety vest over his shoulders. As he headed for the hangars, he absentmindedly ran the thin mesh between his fingers.

This, admittedly, ranked high in the listing of Strange Arrangements. Martin, though finally able to fly for a living, still considered aviation as a hobby—thus, the Arrangement. On the off chance that Swiss Air wasn’t busy sending him off on tours to the corners of God’s green earth, Martin would wheedle a jumpseat to England from a colleague, bring his royal girlfriend along, and fly with OJS to give Herc some semblance of time off. 

Douglas frowned a little as he passed by the first set of hangars. Speaking of...where was Theresa, anyhow?

He shook his head. She’d slipped away with a safety vest, expressing a desire to wander around the airfield. Douglas and Martin, meanwhile, had devoted themselves to filling out paperwork for the day’s flight—just like old days.

Passing the last hangar, Douglas looked both ways before crossing onto the apron. G-ERTI was on stand outside their hangar, gleaming in the morning light. Before, Douglas had definitely been the type of pilot to joke that he didn’t care so much about the plane’s exterior aesthetics since he spent most of his time inside of it, but now he had to admit: something as simple as a new paint job really did wonders. The old bird was nearly unrecognizable, looking half its age. Flying like it, too, if anyone was asking Douglas.

He crossed around to the fore of the aircraft, to start his inspection at the radome. As he went to face G-ERTI head-on, he noticed another figure in a safety-yellow vest, examining their number two engine.

Douglas peered intently at the figure before abandoning his walk-around and stepping closer. “Your Highness. Grüezi.”

Theresa whirled around and blushed a little. “Oh! Hello, Douglas.”

“You were interested in the engine?” Douglas indicated it with a jerk of his head.

Theresa nodded, looking back at it. She seemed a little embarrassed—or at least uneasy. The two of them hadn’t talked in person much since those terrible days when they’d thought that it was all over. And of course, he couldn’t forget the first time they’d spoken—over the phone at this very airfield—when he’d had a bit of a laugh at her expense.

But he also remembered that she—barely hours after they’d first met face-to-face—had covered for them when they were burning off fuel. She’d been there for the auction, gamely climbed into the back of Arthur’s van, and was currently here for Martin.

He sought to make her feel a bit more comfortable. “Martin’s told you about how we got this engine, yes?”

Her eyes lit up. “St Petersburg? Of course. Many times.”

Douglas stifled the urge to laugh a little. “I can imagine.”

“He also loves to talk about you. How you tricked...erm. Carolyn’s ex-husband.”

“Oh. Yes.” Douglas chose not to analyze too deeply, and managed a noncommittal shake of his head. “Well, I. You’ve seen it. I do have some tricks up my sleeve for such occasions.”

She smiled and turned her attention back to the engine. “You seem to have plenty of tricks up your sleeve for all occasions. Such is...such is what Martin tells me.”

Silence fell between them again. He focused on a Gulfstream taxiing to the runway.

“Er, Douglas…”

“Yes.” He pulled his gaze away from the plane and looked back at the princess.

“Is it okay if I touch it?”

“Touch what.”

“The...er. The blades?”

“You want to see if they spin?”

She blushed again, and this time the embarrassment was evident. “Yes.”

“Go on ahead.”

She reached up and pushed against one of the blades, startling a little when the fan began to spin slowly. 

“Didn’t expect that?” Douglas smiled at her surprise. 

“No, I didn’t. It’s that easy?”

“Yep. Now imagine it spinning at God-knows-how-many-revolutions-per-second at thirty-five thousand feet.”

She must have taken the command literally, because after a few long seconds, her eyes widened. “Wow.”

“Exactly.”

“Do you think of that...when you fly?” Theresa turned back to him curiously. 

“Want to find out?” Douglas shot back. She looked a little confused, so he clarified. “Want to learn how to fly?”

Her eyes lit up again. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m sure I’ve got enough knowledge to indoctrinate—of course, I mean educate—someone who wants to learn.” 

“Really?” She turned up the voltage in her eyes. “I’d love to!”

“Well, but I can’t start now…” Douglas tried to bring her back down to earth. Enthusiasm. That was what she and Martin seemed to have in common when it came to aviation. No wonder, then, that they’d become close. “For starters, I’m not an instructor yet. A few classes, and I think I’ll be able to add the qualification to my license.”

Theresa nodded, looking a little chastened. “Of course.”

“And—well, there’s the arrangement,” he pointed out. “You’re not going to get a very consistent education, seeing as you and Martin only come here every so often.”

“Yes. That’s right.” She looked down.

“Oh, don’t look like that!” He hadn’t meant to discourage her, and he attempted now to rectify his mistake. “We can figure something out. There’s multiple ways to get a transport license, assuming that’s what you want. You could go about it in a modular fashion—no need to come into a classroom a set number of days per week or anything like that. In any case, you’d be smashing as a pilot. You’ve got Martin, first of all—I think he’d be happy to coach you through revising for theoretical examinations, so you’re basically set on that front.”

She nodded, fidgeting with the hem of her vest.

“We’ll figure it out.” Suddenly, Douglas remembered the task Martin had delegated him. “Actually, we could even start now, if you’d like. Have you ever been on a walk-around?”

—

Some months later, Martin and Theresa were back in England. By this time, Douglas had a flight instructor rating, a night instructor qualification, and  a multi-engine piston instructor qualification added to his transport pilot’s license and a fuel tester in his pocket.

They met in the main lobby of Fitton Airfield, fluorescent lights gleaming off the glass counter where logbooks and charts were sold. As Douglas warmed his hands with a styrofoam cup of coffee, Theresa picked out a black logbook with green pages. After bidding farewell to Martin, she followed Douglas out to one of the Cessna 152s the airfield kept for instruction.

“It looks so small up close,” she observed as they approached the plane. “So light.”

“That’s why we tie the wings down,” Douglas gestured. “The plane could, quite literally, fly away in a wind.” Noticing her shocked look, he smiled. “Yeah. The wings work, even on the ground. It’s not that noticeable in a bigger plane, like G-ERTI, and even more for the biggest planes. But the wings are working all the time.”

He walked her around the plane and explained what he was looking for, similarly to their last meeting. She pulled off the pitot cover as he explained to her that if the pitot was not adequately protected, the airspeed indicator could fail. Douglas pulled out the fuel tester and drew out some liquid from the bottom of the tank. He held it to the sky and called Theresa over to look for water with him, cautioning her against allowing water into the fuel tank. She nodded, eyes wide.

Finally, he opened the plane’s door. “Watch your head.”

Theresa climbed in eagerly, and Douglas set about untying the wings before following her inside. Until that point, everything had gone smoothly, but he somehow had a more difficult time squeezing himself into the small plane than usual.

“It’s not exactly G-ERTI,” he excused himself as he tried to find the room to place his legs without bumping into the yoke. Whoever had used this plane before was, evidently, either a hobbit or an instructor much shorter than he.

Theresa stifled a laugh, sliding on a pair of sunglasses.

Once he’d finally gotten settled, he got on his headset, handed the other to Theresa, and quizzed her on the instruments. Evidently, Martin had prepared her well—or she’d been waiting for this moment for most of her life.

They whipped through a checklist and had the engine started in no time, and Douglas decided it was about time to get into the air. “Let’s check the brakes. Push forward a little.”

“The throttle? I can touch that?”

“Go ahead.”

Theresa reached down for the throttle and gave the plane a little bit of power.

“Rolling forward. Good. Now take the power back. Brakes.”

Theresa did as she was told. “Good,” Douglas complimented her, and she smiled. “I’ll check the brakes on my side.”

They went over how to transfer control to each other, and at last, Douglas directed her to get the power up and turn onto the main taxiway.

Her hand instinctively went to her yoke.

“Rudder. Use the rudder,” Douglas advised gently.

“Oh. Yes, right.” She took her hand off.

“Good. Stay on the center.” He slung his left arm over the back of her seat and directed her.

“Okay.”

They taxied around the airfield until Theresa could comfortably turn and stay on the centerline without confusing the rudder pedals and yoke. “It’s not like driving,” he advised at one point. “The yoke looks a little too much like a steering wheel, granted, but that’s something you’ve got to overcome. Rudder pedal. You turn with the rudder.”

“So yoke for roll, rudder for yaw?”

“Precisely.”

Finally, Douglas directed Theresa toward the main runway, got in touch with Carl, and asked for clearance to take off.

Carl granted it with the bare minimum of dallying, and Douglas grinned. “Okay, Theresa, we’re going up. Follow the yellow line.”

“What! Already?” Her eyebrows climbed up her forehead as she looked at him.

“Yes. You’re doing wonderfully. I’ll help you. Keep following the yellow line.”

They checked that the horizon was lined up, and Douglas directed her to push the throttle forward. “Full power. Keep looking outside. Stay on the center line.”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

Their speed climbed. Forty knots, fifty knots…

“Sixty, sixty-five—Pull back. Pull the controls back. Gently. Go on.”

Theresa pulled back on the yoke, and the ground peeled away from beneath them.

“We’re off!” In Douglas’s headset, he heard a distant cheer from Carl in ATC—and, from the sound of it, Martin.

“I’m doing it!” Theresa’s exclamation sounded not unlike one Martin would make, and he suppressed a grin. He could feel them rolling a little, but before Douglas could tell Theresa to do so, she was correcting it.

“Good. Now adjust your pitch angle. We’re a little too steep and might stall. And as interested as I am in seeing how you handle your first, I’m not keen on doing it so low and so close to the airfield. Not to mention this is your first lesson.”

“Okay.” She lowered the nose.

“Perfect.”

They climbed to a thousand feet and went through the climb checklist. Douglas put his hands on his own yoke and adjusted for her. “Don’t forget to fly the plane, Theresa.”

“Oh, yes, right. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just keep flying. Our goal now is to get this plane stable enough so that you could take your hands off the yoke, and the plane would just keep going on its own. They’re designed to be stable.”

They climbed further to about fifteen thousand feet, and after a good round of coaching, Theresa managed to keep the plane stable enough to take her hands off. After congratulating her, Douglas had her turn a few times, climb twice, and descend twice before taking control and bringing them back to Fitton to land.

Martin was there to meet them at stand, smiling in his luridly-yellow vest. “How’d it go?” he asked as soon as Douglas and Theresa had finished shutdown and piled out of the plane.

“The landing was smooth,” Douglas lazily passed the pitot cover to Theresa.

“You landed,” Theresa retorted, grabbing it out of his hand. Douglas laughed a little.

“Really, though,” he stopped her before they all went back to the portakabin. “You did well.”

She smiled.

—

Over their next productive (albeit sporadic) meetings, Douglas managed to help Theresa master slow flight. Though she was not what others might call a “natural” at flying, she could certainly absorb information better than most. After their sixth or so flight, Theresa could talk to Carl, work the trim wheel, manage a stall, recover from a spin without too much difficulty, and land visually.

Douglas, overall, was quite pleased with Theresa’s progress, especially for someone who was mostly restricted to ground schooling. 

He’d told her that she could very well find an instructor in Switzerland that could help her better—one who could teach her in German and be more regular with flight lessons—but she’d insisted on staying under his tutelage for the time being, which slightly flattered Douglas.  

And—more importantly—over the past few months, they’d gotten to talking between teaching moments, and by this point Douglas could, with certainty, call her a friend. 

They were going up today, in slightly poorer weather than usual, to review some of the concepts they’d covered thus far in less ideal conditions. As far as Douglas was concerned, and based on the relative ease with which Theresa had been able to manage previous challenges, this was going to be a simple review flight.

“Golf Mike Bravo,” Carl told Theresa from ATC, “Piper Cub three miles on final approach. Cleared for immediate take-off.”

Theresa flicked the transmit button. “Cleared for immediate take-off, Golf Mike Bravo.”

“Good,” Douglas rubbed his hands together as Carl signed off. “Right, Theresa. Let’s get ourselves out of here before that Piper comes in.”

“Okay.”

In no time at all, they were in the air—but today, Theresa seemed to have a little trouble getting the Cessna into stable flight. 

“Trim back,” Douglas advised her. “The plane wants to go up; notice how you’re trying to fight to keep the nose down? Remember, we can’t get any higher and enter Bravo airspace.”

“I know that. I’m sorry.”

“You’re porpoising,” he said gently a few minutes later, noticing how the nose kept rising and dipping. Theresa was probably still fighting the aeroplane. “Now you’ve got to trim forward.”

“Right! Right. Got it. Sorry.” Her tone had grown a little more prickly, and he noticed that the hand that reached back for the trim wheel was shaking slightly.

“It’s okay,” he tried to soothe, “relax, just correct yourself and keep on flying.”

He had her climb, descend, and turn for a while, then had her complete a checklist while he kept a hand lightly on the yoke. 

“Theresa, we’re rolling a little. Watch your attitude indicator. I didn’t ask you to bank.”

Theresa nodded, but kept going through the checklist.

“Theresa. You need to scan.”

“Right, I’m going to.”

“One of your wings is higher than the other.”

“What?” Her hand flew to the yoke, and she corrected the plane.

“You need to scan,” Douglas admonished. “Remember the T.” He pointed to the instruments he’d drilled her on months ago, forming a T on the controls. 

“Right, okay, I’m going to.” The prickle was back, and Douglas tried to stand down.

“Okay,” he directed in what he hoped was a calm tone. “I’ll have you do one last climbing turn, and then we’ll go and find a field we can practice spin recovery over.”

He’d thought it would be easy enough—she’d certainly done plenty of them before. But for some reason, today was different.

“Theresa! Your climb angle is too high. You need to scan!” he turned fully towards her in alarm as a stall warning began to blare.

Evidently startled by both his outcry and the stall warning, Theresa abruptly let go of the controls and screamed.

The plane, being a Cessna 152 and therefore the epitome of stalwart reliability, corrected itself and carried on happily scuttling across the English sky as if nothing had ever happened. Douglas was left to stare at Theresa, who’d buried her face in her hands, completely ignoring the panel in front of her.

He stared at her for what felt like thirty nautical miles before he cleared his throat, something like disappointment curdling in his chest.

“My controls. We’re going back to Fitton.”

“What?” She looked up at him, her eyes wide with shock.

“We’re going back to Fitton. I have control.”

And without waiting for her to confirm the handover, Douglas took hold of his yoke, dialed up the Fitton beacon, and began navigating back to the airfield.

—

“Hey, Martin.” Douglas opened the portakabin door, poked his head inside, and knocked on the wall—all while blocking Theresa from entering. 

“Douglas, what—” she yelped from behind, bumping into him. 

Martin took off his headphones and looked up from his charts, face brightening. “Douglas! You’re back? Where’s Theresa?” His face took on a confused expression. “Everything all right? That was rather quick.”

“Martin, get me my jacket.”

“What?” Martin stared, mouth agape. 

“Douglas, let me in!” Theresa tried to squeeze past him. Finding that difficult as he’d wedged himself between the door and the doorway, she thumped him on his back. “I’m not a child.”

“Theresa?” Martin called out. “What’s happened?”

“I’m going to borrow your girlfriend, Martin,” Douglas said calmly. “Get me my jacket.”

“What!”

“Borrow me—Douglas, let me in—”

“Douglas! What do you mean, what do you want—”

Douglas sighed heavily. “I need my jacket.”

“You’ve said that already, something like three times. Will someone please tell me what is going on? And did you just say you wanted to borrow my girlfriend?”

“I’m going to debrief the flight.”

“What do you mean? You can do it in here.”

“I mean, Martin,” Douglas burst out, suddenly losing patience, “something happened up there today, and we need to talk about it like adults, so I am going to bring Theresa somewhere nice and relaxing to have something to eat and drink and then we’ll talk it out.” He held out a hand. “Won’t take more than an hour. Now please. I need my keys. Get me my jacket, will you?”

Theresa stopped trying to worm past Douglas, and Martin’s expression changed into one of stunned shock. He rose, grabbed Douglas’ jacket off a hook, and handed it to him.

“Thank you, Martin. Theresa,” he turned to the princess. With a single shocked glance at Martin, she followed him down the ramp. 

“What exactly are we doing?” she dared to ask as he walked over to his Lexus.

“Exactly what I’ve just said to Martin. We’re going somewhere nice to have something to eat and drink and then we’ll talk about what happened today.” As he unlocked his car he realized that he was commanding a Princess; the humorous irony of this moment, however, would have to wait for another time. “Have a seat.”

“You realize this looks a lot like you’re kidnapping the princess of Liechtenstein.” She gaped at him over the roof of the sedan.

“You’re the one walking into the car, not me,” Douglas pointed out. “I am, in fact, very courteously unlocking the door and opening it for you as you gracefully sit in my car. Now come on. We should go. We have much to talk about.”

A former colleague from Air England had set up a coffeehouse a town over that sold food and drink at a reasonable price, having been declared unfit to fly by his GP due to worsening astigmatism. 

Which was where he was heading now.

As he turned into the car park, he remembered that he was not in an aeroplane and wrenched off his tie, tossing it into the back seat. “Let’s go,” he said without looking at Theresa.

“Okay.”

They silently crossed the car park and Douglas opened the front door for Theresa.

“Douglas! Haven’t seen you in ages.” The man was drying a mug behind the counter and waved eagerly as they walked in.

“Morning, Jeremy. Just dropping in.”

“Sure. Who’s this?” Jeremy indicated Theresa with a tilt of his head.

“A student.” Douglas kept his replies short. “I’m debriefing our flight.”

“Gracious, you’re teaching now?”

“On a limited basis.” Douglas offered a chair to Theresa in the back corner. “If you don’t mind…”

“No problem.” Jeremy turned away.

Theresa nodded distractedly and sat across from Douglas.

“I’ll get you something. What would you like?” Douglas turned to Theresa. “Something to drink, something to eat…”

She twisted around a bit to look at the display case of various baked goods. “I think...erm. An éclair?”

“Nothing to drink?”

Strangely, Theresa paled a little. “Just water.”

“You’re sure?”

“Just...water,” she glared lightly, and Douglas was vaguely reminded of her barking, “I am Theresa Gustava Bonaventura, Countess of Sponheim and Protector Extraordinary of the Cantons of Nimes!” into G-ERTI’s satcom. 

“Okay. Okay, sorry.” He put his hands up in a gesture of deference and headed to Jeremy’s post to get some food.

Some minutes later, he sat back in front of Theresa and handed her the éclair and water she’d requested. Jeremy went to talk to another customer in order to give them some semblance of privacy.

“Thank you.”

Douglas waited until they were both about halfway through their respective coffee/pastry before he started speaking.

“So. Let’s unpack what happened up there today,” he kept his tone low and calm. In front of him, Theresa clammed up a little, but he forged on. “Can you tell me, in your own words…”

“Who else’s words would I use?” Theresa interjected, then her ears turned red. “Well…” She thought for a second, then continued. “I didn’t have a problem getting off the ground, but I was having trouble...I was having trouble getting the plane trimmed to...to equilibrium. Then I did some climbing and turning, and that was okay, but then you asked me to do a checklist…”

“Right, and what happened then?”

“I wasn’t watching the plane, and it came out of its equilibrium.”

“That’s correct. And then?”

“You asked me to do a climbing turn, and I did, but I made a stall warning because I wasn’t scanning, and then…”

She trailed off.

“Right. That’s all true.” Douglas took a sip of his coffee. “Now. I know you knew how to do everything I asked you to. This was supposed to be a review flight, remember? I wouldn’t have let you go up in today’s conditions if you didn’t know how to do what I asked  you to—the bit of cloud and all. So.” He put his cup down. “What’s going on that you don’t want to tell me about?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what was on your mind? Has anything happened between...has anything happened between you and Martin?” He dreaded to hear the answer. 

“What? No. No, we’re fine! Everything’s fine with us.” Her tone had abruptly grown defensive.

“Okay, okay.” Douglas tamped down the relief. “What I’m saying is, something’s probably set you off...Theresa. It’s like driving.” A thought occurred to him. “Wait, do you know...do you know how to drive?”

“For emergencies, yes. I was taught the basics a long time ago.”

“Well, you know how you wouldn’t—you shouldn’t drive when you’re unwell? Not just physically. Emotionally, too? Mentally?”

She nodded.

“Same with flying. You shouldn’t be flying if you’re not well. You shouldn’t have been up in the air at all today on that logic. Which begs the question.” He leaned forward. “You seem physically well. You’re mentally sound. Theresa...what’s wrong?”

Suddenly, she couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Come on, Theresa,” he urged. “We’re friends—at least,” he tacked on hastily, seeing the look that passed across her face, “a friend of Martin’s is a friend of mine, and you’ve—you’ve really been here for us, on quite a few occasions…” He sensed that he wasn’t getting his point across. “What I’m trying to say is…” He took a breath, reached across the table, and grasped her hand, which was lying limply next to her éclair. Her gaze whipped to him. “You can trust me. You can trust us. What’s happened?”

“Oh. Oh...I...Scheisse.” Theresa ripped her hand away and covered her face again. Douglas sat back and bit his lip, letting her talk when she wanted to.

Finally, she gulped, sat on her hands, and looked at Douglas. “Douglas. I…”

“Take your time. It’s okay.”

“Douglas...I think...I’m not saying, but I just think...I might be...Martin and I...well. I...might be pregnant.”

His jaw dropped. When the realization kicked in, he gasped and then grinned. The thought of a mini-Martin or a mini-Theresa was, frankly, incredibly endearing. “Oh my God! Congratulations—”

“No!” She shook her head rapidly. “Wait, no, I meant, not that I don’t want the congratulations, I mean no, it is not good, this is not good. Even though I’m only thinking I might...oh, it’s just bad! It’s really, really bad!” With shaking hands, she clutched at her curling hair like she was about to pull it out and looked at him, her hazel eyes desperate.

“What? How?” 

“We’re...Martin and I aren’t married! If we’re having a child, right now, it’s going to be regarded as an illegitimate child since we’re not married! And my family’s already angry enough at me—”

“Why would they be upset with you, for God’s sake? You’re running a microstate in your teenage brother’s stead, I’d say that’s more remarkable than a given person of your age—”

“Let me finish!” Theresa hissed. Douglas knew her frustration wasn’t directed at him, but his interruption wasn’t exactly helping. He fell silent with an apologetic, deferential nod. “Sorry. Yes, I know I run the country, but I’m just waiting for Maxie to finish his education and take it over—there was a constitutional crisis just to allow me to become his regent—they were going to give the state to a ten-year-old! I couldn’t possibly let them do that—but there are older...more...more conservative members of the royal family that...that don’t like that I’m doing this. And...I’ve never actually wanted to be...listen, I just don’t want to be…I don’t like politics. I never have, and you know I wanted to be a pilot. But I do...what I do! Because I have to…” 

Shakily, she picked up her paper table napkin and began to fidget with it. “And what’s worse...Swiss Air...Martin tells me they’re debating expanding to a hub in London, and...I want him to apply to be domiciled there. There’s a good chance they’ll let him, since he’s—he’s English, no matter how many times he reassures me that he’ll try to gain Liechtenstein citizenship…”

“Hold on. Citizenship?”

“Another problem. We talked to the archbishop of Vaduz. Martin’s not Liechtensteiner or royal, so one of those has got to give if we’re going to marry—and if any of our children are going to have any sort of claim to the throne. It’s not like I care about that last part, but the family’s going to make us suffer for it…”

“Wait, why would you want Martin to be domiciled here if Swiss Air opens a hub?”

“Because...I think it might be better for him. He’d be close to family, away from the worst of my relatives...not to mention close to you all.”

“And what about you?” Douglas stared across the table at her.

She sighed. “I...I would want to come with him if that happens. I've had...I have plans set up but I’ve never told anyone about them, not even Martin…I haven’t told anyone except Martin about me possibly being pregnant...”

“Again. Theresa. You can trust me.”

She gazed at him, openmouthed, then gave a “might-as-well-get-it-over-with” sort of shrug and continued. “Well, my next sister—she’s only a few years younger than me—she actually wants political life, she’s actually interested in running a country. She’d be overjoyed if I passed the regency to her. But after instating a constitutional crisis, I’d be expected to see the regency through, and that wouldn’t happen for...a few years yet. My God, it’s all so complicated, and I’m making no sense at all…”

By this point, the paper napkin was worried to bits on the table. 

Douglas sat there for a while, trying to figure out how to respond. 

“Theresa,” he began at last. 

“Yes?”

“Whatever happens...whatever you choose to do, and whatever you and Martin choose to do. You...you have a home here. Both of you. Really.” It wasn’t about flying now, this conversation. It wasn’t about mistakes, it wasn’t about pilot licenses or anything of the sort. This was different. This was family. “And if certain family members are being horrible...who cares about them? We’ll be your family. You have a—you have a refuge with us. You’ll be fine. You and Martin both.”

She looked dubious, for just a second, and then she looked relieved.

“That’s better,” Douglas soothed. “You’ll be fine. You will be.”

“Thank...thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do.” He stretched across the table and grasped his friend’s hand again—and this time she didn’t pull away. 

They smiled. 

A week or so later, after Theresa and Martin had returned to Zurich, he received a message.

I’m not pregnant. I’m okay, turns out it was a scare after all. I am truly sorry for the dramatics that day. Theresa

I’m glad to hear you’re okay. You are fine. You can always talk if you need it. Douglas

Thank you. Theresa

—

“She’ll be fine.” 

As Douglas scanned the horizon on the day of Theresa’s first solo flight, Carolyn elbowed him lightly in the side. “Hello, Captain Richardson? Do you happen to be in? She’ll be fine.”

He looked at Carolyn, who had endeavored to put on a reassuring look. “You’ve taught her well. She’ll be fine.”

“If I can say,” Herc interjected from Carolyn’s other side, “she’s done well for someone whose flying education has been so sporadic.”

“Yes. Loosen up, Douglas,” Carolyn admonished. “She'll be okay.” 

Douglas had let her take him up around Fitton twice before leaving her in the training Cessna to complete her first solo around the traffic pattern. In the distance, he saw her talking to Martin through the open door of the aircraft. 

Since their conversation a month or so previously, Theresa had made the decision to maintain her regency until Maxie’s coming of age. She and Martin were still discussing the idea of the domicile and marriage, but Douglas had faith that they would make the decision that was best for them. 

But that wasn’t important now, not when Martin had leaned inside and kissed Theresa, his vest stirred by the breeze, before he closed the plane’s door and walked over to meet the rest of the group, standing on the apron in front of the main lobby.

The setting was ideal—commanding a view of both the apron and the main runway.

“How is she?” Douglas asked a Martin anxiously.

“Relaxed, mostly.” Martin had his hands shoved into his pockets as he came to stand next to him. Douglas resisted the urge to laugh—Martin’s face was still a vibrant shade of crimson. “I suppose...mo-more relaxed than me.” He laughed nervously.

Arthur came trotting over as best he could with a plastic bucket in his grip. Water sloshed over the rim. 

“Arthur, dear heart—pray tell me why you’ve got that,” Carolyn turned and pointed at the bucket of water. 

“Ah. Well...I may have told Arthur of the tradition of a pilot’s first solo,” Herc replied a bit sheepishly. “The Americans cut off the shirt-tail—but we douse the pilot in water.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, really?” Carolyn rolled her eyes. “And she’s got on a uniform for the first time too.”

“It’s a rite of passage.”

It was Martin—of course—that had suggested Theresa get a uniform for the occasion, citing his own experience going through flight school. Initially, Douglas hadn’t even considered it—until that point he’d just let her show up in whatever she wanted to wear. However, he and Herc had agreed with Martin, and they’d pulled together to surprise Theresa with a uniform much like the ones the three of them used for flights with OJS. Martin had had the honor of fastening Theresa’s epaulettes for her—one stripe for now.

Douglas knew he would not be surprised if that one stripe would grow to three or even four. 

“She’s starting up her roll,” Martin announced, ever the observant aviator. 

Douglas watched her initiate her checklist before pulling forward and taxiing towards the runway. 

Theresa paused at the mouth of the runway, and if Douglas squinted, he could see her take a deep breath before applying power. 

The Cessna rolled down the runway, leaving the piano keys behind, quickly gaining speed. 

“Rotate,” Douglas murmured under his breath. 

The front wheel lifted from the ground, and the little aeroplane rose into the sky. 

“Good start,” Herc assessed. Douglas saw him hold up his finger to form an angle with the ground. “Good angle.” Seeing Douglas watching, Herc looked over and sent him a grin. “You did well.”

“Hurrah!” Arthur jumped up and down excitedly. “That was brilliant!”

“Yes, well,” Martin said. “She’s got to come back down.”

Douglas nodded. The relief he’d felt upon watching Theresa take off was quickly replaced by a heavy feeling in his throat. Martin was right. For a novice pilot, taking off was easy enough—landing, not so much. 

They craned their heads upward. The little Cessna was following the standard traffic pattern for Fitton, turning and coming back to land. 

Theresa descended from the sky and approached the runway as Douglas had taught her. He envisioned her as he’d seen her so many times, as they practiced touch-and-go after touch-and-go after touch-and-go: correcting the side-to-side alignment, watching the PAPI lights on the sides of the runway, aiming for the touchdown zone...

“Flare,” Martin called out as Theresa tipped the nose up to increase the angle of attack. 

“Come on,” Douglas muttered to himself, watching her intently. “Power through the ground effect, don’t use up the runway—!”

Finally, the main wheels touched the runway, followed by the front wheel, and he knew Theresa was pushing the rudder pedals as hard as she could to get the plane slowed down.

Martin and Douglas cheered at the same time, and Douglas felt Martin cling to him and jump up and down. 

“She did it! She did it!” he chorused excitedly. 

“Well done to you too, Douglas,” Herc said warmly, thumping him on the back. 

“I must admit, that was exhilarating,” Carolyn added, a hint of pride in her tone. 

“Douglas, here!”

He turned to Arthur, who shoved the bucket of water at him. Some of it slipped over the edges and wet Douglas’s shoes. “You should have the bucket since you taught her! I’ll help you if you need it.”

“Arthur, dearest, I should think one is enough for that!”

Almost as if in a daze, Douglas accepted the bucket. Theresa had done it. Of course, there was a long way to go in terms of licensing, but the truth still stood—she’d defied everything that had stood in her way. 

She was a pilot now. 

Finally, she pulled in to stand and, after completing shutdown checks, left the aircraft to slip on the pitot cover and tie down the wings. 

Martin broke from the group and ran to her, and they followed. Douglas came last of all, heaving the bucket with him. 

Theresa came to meet them, accepting congratulations from Herc and Carolyn, laughing as Arthur tackled her into a soul-crushing hug, and kissing Martin on the cheek. 

Finally, she turned to Douglas with a brilliantly relieved grin, and he smiled mischievously at her. Luckily, she had her gaze concentrated on his face, and not the bucket he was trying to hide behind him. 

“You’ve done well, Theresa. And now, since you’ve shown proficiency as a pilot...I’ve got something for you…”

Splash!

“Agh!! Douglas!! It’s cold!!!”

[vanderlindeandco]

Hey I was wondering if i could get a one shot of Marcus x reader, where the reader is super shy and really likes Marcus but is too scared too tell him and the guys (cole, Baird, and dom) end up telling Marcus how the reader feels and ends up getting mad at them but thanks them because magic feels the same.

HELL yeah brother

“All right, then you’re going to slide this piece right here.“ Marcus’s fingers, fast for their size, pressed the last piece of the transmitter into place. “Got it?”

You nodded, taking the device from his hands when he handed it to you. “Thank you.”

“Get to work, Private.” He walked away, and you felt the floor quake just a little under his steady steps.

You really liked your new squad. Dom was kind and welcoming and you already saw him as something of a big brother, even though it had only been a couple months since you’d been transferred to Delta. Cole was fearless and never failed to put a smile on your face, whether by words or conduct. Baird could be cantankerous, and it had taken you awhile to figure out his sense of humor, but once you had, you came to value his ingenuity and edginess, and even to tolerate his whining. Sam was brave and funny and snarky, and you admired her confidence and how she flourished and excelled even in such a testosterone-filled environment.

But Marcus, well… Marcus was distracting. And for being the least talkative of the lot, that made no sense, you knew. But it wasn’t intentional on his part. It was in the gravel of his voice, a sound that sent goosebumps down your spine when he whispered an order in your ear on a covert operation. It was in his confidence, how he took charge in whatever situation cropped up, and even in the way he barked orders. It was the way he looked out for his squad, protecting them and doing everything he could to ensure their well-being. It was his devotion to his cause, the idealism that you could see even through years of mistakes, loss, and wear and tear. His fierce blue eyes helped too, and you appreciated the way his armor hugged his tank-like body, and the strong arms that emerged from under the metal.

You had it bad, and you knew it would be best to forget it. Even if something were to come of it, it would essentially lock you in your current rank of private since any promotions you received would automatically be suspect - the gap between your ranks was just too big. And you hated the way you got awkward around him, how your fingers fumbled on simple tasks, and your words seemed to trip over themselves. You didn’t quite feel like yourself around him.

You were patrolling one night with Dom and Cole, making rounds of the borders of the remote base Delta had temporarily been stationed at, when Dom asked, “So. When are you going to tell him?”

“Tell who?” you said.

“You’re supposed to ask what too, if you really don’t know,” Cole said, tapping the side of his nose confidentially.

“It’s that obvious?” you said sheepishly.

“A little,” Dom said.

“Well, you go from a very competent soldier to a schoolgirl around him” Cole said.

“So this is where you tell me it’s not going to work and not to get my hopes up,” you said. “I know, believe me.”

“Actually,” Dom said, “I think we were going to tell you to go for it.” You looked at him incredulously. “Back me up, Cole.”

“Marcus knows what you’re all about,” Cole said. “You might not be the highest-ranking, but you got a rep. Trustworthy, adventurous, funny - and I know you’re a hell of a good shot.”

“So what are you saying?” you asked, not wanting to risk drawing conclusions they weren’t trying to make.

“You’re his type, genius,” Baird’s voice crackled through Cole’s radio.

“That’s on?!” you asked, your cheeks immediately growing hot.

“Oops,” Cole said.

“Hey, I’m good at girl talk too,” Baird said.

You shot a resentful glance at Cole, who shrugged apologetically. Baird was friend, but he would not have been your top pick of who to confide your feelings in. “What’s happening?” Baird asked. “Can you still hear me? Come in, Delta.” He began to sing, his voice painfully out of tune. “If you fell in love with Marcus, clap your hands,” clap clap, “If you-”

“Okay, I hear you!” you said. You had wanted to say something considerably different - something that involved quite a few more four-letter words, but you hadn’t known Baird long enough to justify cussing out someone who outranked you by that much.

“Look, I’m just saying, say he does feel the same way - that probably means it’ll be twice as hard for me to get a promotion because everyone will think it’s just because I’m involved with him,” you said.

“You think Marcus would let that stand?” Cole said. “Hell no. He’d bang heads together until it worked.”

“I guess.” His words raised your hopes, but you knew it was smartest not to get too optimistic.

“Just nut up and tell him!” Baird said. There came some muffled noise through the radio, and a faint but familiar voice, and then Baird saying “Oh, hey, Sarge. Been here long?”

“Shit,” you muttered, and the radio cut out.

“He’s, uh… not the best about keeping secrets,” Dom said.

“Yeah,” you said, a little bitterly.

“It’ll be fine,” Cole said.

“Yep.” You scanned the quiet desert.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dom said. “Baird puts his foot in his mouth all the time. He’ll take care of it.”

“Good,” you said.

It was nearly midnight, the end of the guard shift, and you took a last circuit with Dom and Cole around the base before entering again through the gates. The base was quiet at night, so you were surprised to see two soldiers crossing the open courtyard toward you, and your heart sunk when even in the dim moonlight you spotted the familiar bandana on the head of the taller of the two.

“Private,” he said, his voice resounding in the courtyard even though he wasn’t speaking loudly.

“Uh, yes sir?” your voice had come out weak. Fuck, why was it so hard to talk around him?

“Baird tells me you have something to say.”

There was no way he had told him… was there? Your tongue felt heavy and clumsy as you tried to shape words. “I, uh-” your panicked eyes darted to Baird, who had a confident smirk on his face. “I-I wanted to thank you for…” for what? You groped around your mind for something to say. “-for teaching me, uh, earlier.”

“No problem,” Marcus said. “That’s it?”

“Yes, sir.” You knew your cheeks were bright red and you were grateful for the cover of night.

Baird looked a little let down, and you scowled at him as soon as Marcus’s attention shifted to Dom. “Everything clear on the patrol?” Marcus asked.

“All good,” Dom said.

“Good,” Marcus said. “Get some rest, all of you. Good work.”

As soon as you were out of earshot of Marcus and Baird, the words you’d been holding back burst from your lips. “That son of a bitch! I sounded like a total idiot.” You mocked your own voice, “‘Thanks for teaching me.’ Fuck!”

“Yeah, he overstepped a little there,” Dom said. “But I think he just wanted to help you make a move.”

“Yeah well, that should be up to me,” you said.

“Do try and do it before you get old and die an old widow,” Cole teased.

You sighed. Maybe he had a point. “I’ll think about it.”

*****

The next morning when you came into the mess hall, you found the men of Delta huddled around the isolated end of one long table. Dom was saying something, an earnest expression on his face, but you couldn’t hear the words. You grabbed a tray, accepting the normal morning rations before approaching the squad. The conversation stopped as you neared, all four soldiers suddenly seeming a little too interested in the mostly flavorless powdered eggs that comprised the main part of the meal. “Morning,” you said as you sat down next to Dom.

“Morning!” Cole said with a sunny smile.

“Marcus?” Baird asked, but when Marcus didn’t speak, he shook his head, lamenting toward the ceiling, “Do I have to do every-fucking-thing for you two?” You didn’t have time to figure out the implication of his words before he turned to you, asking, “You got a dress or something here?”

“No, why?” you asked.

“Cause you got a date tonight.”

“A… date? What did you say?” This seemed like it was probably about to go terribly wrong. There was Baird, out of line, again, but it wasn’t just him this time. You’d give them all a talking-to later. Your eyes darted to Marcus, whose gaze was still trained on his breakfast. You couldn’t read his expression at first - it seemed closed, tense, before you realized with a shock of tenderness that he was in fact bashful.

“Damn, is it hard to breathe in here or is it just all the sexual tension?” Baird asked.

Marcus scowled at him but then he turned to you and his face softened.“You know there’s not much to do around here. I, uh, thought we could go for a drive and maybe eat off-base.”

“I don’t think the word ‘picnic’ is in his vocabulary, but that’s what he’s getting at,” Baird said. “My idea, of course. He thought you should go to the range together. Cause there’s nothing as romantic as shooting paper to shit on your first date.”

“I…” Marcus looked up at the start of your sentence, and the intensity of his gaze made you pause. “Yes.”

There was silence for a moment and then Cole cheered as Baird clapped Marcus on the back. “There we go,” Dom said.

“You can thank me later,” Baird said. “We’re out of here.” The other three members of the squad rose, leaving you alone sitting across from Marcus.

You cleared your throat. “I like your idea better.”

He chuckled, his weathered face relaxing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He stuffed the last bite of toast in his mouth, chewing it thoroughly before rising, tray in hand. “I’ll meet you at the range at 1900 hours.”

You smiled, and for once that funny feeling you got in the pit of your stomach when you were around him wasn’t a bad one. “Yes, sir.”

***

You had martial arts training with Dom that afternoon, and when you walked into the training room with a smile on your face, he asked, “Still mad at us?”

“No,” you said, a little grudgingly.

“Anything else you want to say?” he asked, a playful smile in his eyes.

“Yeah... Thank you.”

He nodded. “He likes you. Have fun tonight. Use protection!”

You rolled your eyes, fastening the velcro on your gloves. “Get your guard up.”

[dallanebbia]

blooming (1/6);

fandom: bnha pairing: kacchako; bakugou katsuki x uraraka ochako word count: 3129 warnings: mentions of violence inspiration: [link] synopsis: 

Ochako doesn’t understand much about the world outside the limits of her village, but she does know this: She loves her family, and at the end of the day, she’ll do anything to keep them safe – even if it means sacrificing herself to do it.

When she runs away to join the army in her father’s place, the only thing she leaves behind is an untouched cup of tea, and a whispered apology nobody is awake to hear.

(or, in which an attempt is made to write a kacchako mulan au)

parts: [1] [2] [3] || AO3: [link]

“娘は壊れ物.” – Japanese proverb (transl. "Daughters are fragile.")

__

Ochako doesn’t understand much about the world outside the limits of her village, but there are some things she does know, even as she pretends to be oblivious.

She knows that the butcher lowers his prices for the richest families, in exchange for a monthly barrel of wine that he hides from his wife. She knows that the elderly lady who begs in the market isn’t actually homeless, but dresses like she is and lives in the next village over, rubbing dirt on her cheeks every morning. She knows that her mother hasn’t given up on trying to find her a husband, even after three different matchmakers deem her hopeless.

Ochako knows that the shogun needs men to full the ranks of his army, to fight in a war against a madman. She understands that a daughter is supposed to bring her family honor through marriage, while a son is meant to earn his in battle. And she knows, as her father tries and fails to run through long-forgotten katas with his nodachi, that if her father goes to war, he isn't coming back.

She’s never wanted to be a hero like her father, left old and broken from defending the shogun and his country – but while Ochako doesn’t understand much about the world, she does know this.

She loves her family. She wants more than anything to see them happy and healthy, and at the end of the day, she’ll do anything to keep them safe – even if it means sacrificing herself to do it.

Ochako steals the conscription papers from the bedside table. She binds her breasts and cuts her hair and takes her father’s swords, running away to join the army, and the only thing she leaves behind is an untouched cup of tea with a whispered apology nobody is awake to hear.  

__ 

 When Ochako arrives at the training grounds, one thing is abundantly clear – this place isn’t meant to produce soldiers. The men she sees as she settles into the camp are boisterous and cheerful and carefree, the types of people who see battle as a game and not a fight for survival, and it’s very clear that whoever is in charge is being set up to fail.

By the look on Captain Bakugou’s face on their first day of training, he’s in complete agreement.

He’s also the most physically stunning man she’s ever seen in her life, and it takes everything in her to pretend like her face isn’t on fire when he carelessly sheds his shirt to expose carved muscles and sharp hipbones and miles of smooth, golden skin.

She keeps her eyes on his face and tries to ignore how her ears are burning.

It helps that his personality has all the charm and charisma of a dead rat. The man is crude and impatient, a permanent scowl fixed on his face as he has each recruit spar with him one on one. There’s no mercy as he knocks each and every one of his opponents out of the ring with bruises and injuries of various degrees, a mocking sneer twisting across his mouth as he goes.

Ochako is shaking in her boots when her name is called up.

Bakugou looks decidedly unimpressed at the way she nearly trips over her own feet and falls on her face before stepping into the marked boundary of the sparring ring. His eyes are drifting to run over the remaining recruits that are waiting their turns, and she’s angry and embarrassed that he’s writing her off so easily.

“Hey!” she yells, and Bakugou’s gaze snaps back towards her, “don’t look away from me!”

She grits her teeth at his answering sneer. “Why the fuck would I pay attention to a waste of space?”

Something hot burns in her chest at his words – it feels an awful lot like rage.

Family, honor and duty. The words echo in her head as she runs over the past twenty-odd fights, short as they were. She slides a foot back, settling into a low crouch as determination coils in her stomach.  

“Hajime!”

Ochako doesn’t give him the time to think, springing forward, and she can see the way his eyes widen at the initiative. She has the bare bones of a plan in her head, half-formed and relying on chance more than skill, but maybe it’s enough.

When she’s within range, Bakugou leads with his fist, body thrown into the movement with full commitment, and her heart leaps as she smoothly dodges the punch, ducking to the side and sliding into his space to try and sweep his legs out from under him and strike at the underside of his jaw. She catches him in the cheek, a rabbit-quick punch that doesn’t seem to do much damage, but she’s too slow to react to the kick to her leg, her knee crumpling beneath her as she hits the dirt with a gasp.

It’s only by luck that Ochako sees the boot hurtling towards her face, and she scrambles away just before Bakugou’s foot comes down in what would have been a nasty curb stomp.

She gapes at the cloud of dust that rises from the impact, scrambling to her feet and putting distance between them as narrowed red eyes turn to meet her gaze. It’s just as violent as some of the other attacks he’d made during other spars, and it’s obvious that he wasn’t expecting it to actually land, but as he turns to her again, there’s a marked difference in his expression and stance.

Now, his sneer is tinged with a curious edge, red eyes flashing in interest. He doesn’t look even a little winded, but Ochako is panting hard from a mix of pure willpower and adrenaline.

“Tch.” Bakugou flexes his jaw, testing the movement. “You actually hit me.”

She grits her teeth. “There’s more where that came from!”

He scoffs, but his focus is entirely on her now as he rushes in first. He’s leading with his fists again, but this time, when he goes for the punch Ochako tightens her core and lets it land, wheezing as pain explodes in her stomach. Her feet skid back, bracing against the force, and she pushes through the pain, using his outstretched arm to pull him towards the elbow she aims at his nose.

The hit is deflected with a palm strike that sends her off balance, a kick to her back sending her to the ground. As Bakugou closes the short distance between them, the fine, loose texture of the earth below her palms gives her an idea.

It's playing dirty, but Ochako doesn’t really care as she flips over and tosses two handfuls of dirt into Bakugou’s face.

“Motherfucker, you bi – !” The fine particles give her precious few seconds as Bakugou scrubs at his eyes, and she tries to dart in close to land a hit. Unfortunately, it takes her too long; by the time she manages to land a sweeping kick that knocks him down, he’s already recovered enough to lunge at her in an all-out tackle that ends with her wrists twisted behind her and his weight bearing down on her back.

“Tch, that was almost halfway decent.” The rough growl does nothing to hide the smirk in his voice, and when she tries wiggling out of his hold, he only puts more pressure on her wrists. “Tap out, or I’m gonna start breaking shit.”

Ochako grits her teeth, stubbornness holding out for a moment before she slumps. “… I yield.”

She gasps in relief as her arms are released, the weight on her back disappearing. Her arms flop at her sides into the dirt, exhaustion finally hitting her, and all she wants to do is not move for the foreseeable future.

“Oi. Round face.” She flinches as a foot nudges into her side roughly. “Get the fuck up, I’ve got other extras to beat to the ground before the day is done.”

Ochako takes a deep breath, then slowly clambers to her feet, wincing as the tenderness of her stomach from tanking that earlier punch. Bakugou is already looking at his next opponent, eyes fixed on a tall redhead whose biceps look like they’re bigger than her own head, but something makes Ochako call out to him.

“My name,” she says through gritted teeth, and he pauses to look back at her over his shoulder, “is Uraraka.”

Bakugou studies her for a moment, eyes unreadable, and as he turns away, scoffs, “Whatever, round face.”

__ 

Days pass. Ochako aches on her good days, and can barely move on others. Bakugou is a harsh taskmaster who has a takes-no-prisoners attitude that drives every single recruit into the ground, and now she knows that she was right about him being set up to fail.

The man that arrives a week into training is a smug, obnoxious little prick from the shogun’s court, a noble looks like he had weaseled his way into his advisor position through nepotism and money. Lord Monoma sneers at all the recruits like they’re dumb animals rather than people, and for some reason has it out for Ochako in particular, snidely pointing out how she lags behind the other men during training exercises and her overall slow improvement.

The only consolation is that Bakugou hates Monoma more than anyone else, and actively works to make the man’s life as miserable as possible. One ‘accidental’ fire keeps the insufferable man away from the training grounds for a solid week, and Ochako has to hold herself back from crying in relief. Some of the other men have no self-preservation and actually try to hug Bakugou, which earns them extra laps and chores as punishment.

There are some moments of brightness that shine through the monotony of the days, but for the most part it’s not easy, being here. She’s the smallest and shortest one in the camp, the one with the lowest stamina and the least energy to spare, and more often than not it takes her twice as long to finish endurance exercises or obstacle courses because she just doesn’t have the physical strength to keep up. She does well in spars, using her father’s teachings to turn her opponent’s size and strength against them, but at the end of the day, she’s a woman pretending to be a man, and there is only so much she can do on her own before the frustration at her lack of progress starts to eat away at her. Some days, she feels like she's breaking through her slump, but on others it feels like she's the dead weight who's moments away from being cast off.

It's during one of these days that Bakugou is waiting for her as she comes back from her exercises one night, the rest of the men having finished hours earlier. In his hands are two heavy weights, cloth straps looped through the holes in the center of each disk, and he unceremoniously drops them into her arms.

“Get the arrow by sunrise,” he says, pointing upward, and Ochako follows his hand until she sees an arrow embedded into to the wood of a training post that’s thicker than the circle of her arms and as tall as a century old pine. “If you can’t, don’t bother showing up for training.”

He doesn’t look back even as panicked questions start spilling from her mouth, ducking into his tent and leaving her alone in the darkness. Her arms already heavy and worn from the day’s training, the arrow looks like it’s miles away, and Ochako looks down at the weights with a growing sense of hopelessness until she sees it.

There are words embossed into each disk. It’s a full moon and the characters are easy to read, but Ochako still traces the raised strokes slowly. Discipline and strength. She thinks of her father’s swords, tucked in her tent, and the horimono engraved on each blade. Peonies – bravery and honor.

Ochako looks up at the post, eyes observing the knots and cracks in the old wood. She then ties the weights to her torso, wraps her hands in strips torn from her shirt, and starts climbing.

__ 

Two hours from sunrise, Ochako approaches the commander’s tent, illuminated from within by the light of a candle. When she’s given the permission to enter, she’s finds herself staring directly at Monoma of all people, sitting on the opposite side of the tent. At the sight of her, he looks like he’s just swallowed an entire yuzu fruit whole.  

“Well?” Bakugou doesn’t even glance in her direction, eyes focused on the scroll in his lap. One hand is flipping a knife between broad fingers, the other holding a half-eaten pear, and here in the soft candlelight he’s softened by the shadows cast along his sharp features. The loose shirt he wears does little to hide the broadness of his shoulders or chest, and abruptly, Ochako feels a tiny flutter bloom beneath her breastbone.

Oh. Oh, no.

No, no, no, no, no.

She’s delirious, she decides. She’s exhausted and sleep-deprived and confused by the feelings that are stirring in her chest, and Ochako blames all of that on what she does next.

“One arrow, Captain,” Ochako says, and stakes the arrow, head first, into the map spread across the table in front of her, “as promised.”

Something in her revels in the way Monoma jumps in surprise, wide-eyed, and her ears burn as Bakugo barks out a sharp laugh. She pulls the two weights off her back, dropping them in a neat pile at her feet.

“What was it you said? Fragile?” Bakugou’s expression is full of unholy glee, and Monoma looks like he can’t decide if he wants to punch Bakugou in the face or stab him. “A deal’s a deal, fuckface. Get your arrow and your shitty ass out of my damn camp.”

Monoma grinds his teeth and stands with all the grace of a sore loser, sweeping out of the tent without a word.

Silence falls. It takes Ochako a few embarrassingly long moments to process what she's just heard, still confused as hell, but then decides that she can’t be bothered to be polite about it.

“I’m fragile?” Offended, Ochako looks down at herself, where her raw hands are bleeding through makeshift bandages. She can see the dips of her abdominals showing through her shirt. “… wait, you bet on me?!”

“The shitty bastard did.” She barely reacts fast enough to catch the pear that nearly brains her in the forehead, fumbling with it for a moment before it lands awkwardly between her elbow and her chest, and Bakugou just smirks when she shoots him a glare.

“There’s nothing fragile about you, round face.” Stunned, her mouth falls open, and there's something else in Bakugou's expression that she can't name. “Now get outta my tent.”

She knows, logically, that it’s not meant to imply or mean anything – still, heat floods her face to the point where Bakugou notices, by the way his eyes narrow. Before he can say anything else, she decides to cut her losses and squeaks out a goodbye before rushing out and making a beeline for her own tent.

Family, duty and honor. Ochako is here for her father, nothing more and nothing less. She scrubs herself down the best she can, collapses on her sleeping mat, and pretends like the rapid-fire beat of her heart is nothing more than excess adrenaline, burning itself away.

__

The arrow doesn’t mean anything. It shouldn’t mean anything, but something shifts in Ochako, after. It’s odd, breaking through a plateau that has held her back for so long; her body doesn’t feel any different and she’s still waking with sore muscles and aching limbs. The real difference is those five words, spoken with a conviction that Ochako herself doesn’t know if she quite agrees with – but something in her burns whenever she remembers the way Bakugou looked at her after saying it. She wants to prove that he’s right.

There’s nothing fragile about you.

She runs faster and farther, pushing until she’s leading the endurance runs rather than trailing them. She spars with the other men, beats them all one by one – and then she trains with Bakugou. In the beginning, he knocks her on her ass every time, but slowly, each bout between them lasts longer and longer. She learns to hit harder and fight smarter, until she finally manages to pin him down after weeks of eating dirt.

“Gotcha.” She’s panting, pressing down on him as hard as she can manage, and bares her teeth in a vicious, proud smile. Below her, he’s catching his breath, recovering from the way she slammed his head into the dirt seconds earlier. “Yield?”

“… whatever,” he says, empty of all his usual aggression and rage, and Ochako is suddenly distinctly aware of the position she’s in. Her hands are pressing his wrists into the ground at his sides, the bulk of her weight on his hips to prevent him from flipping her – and Ochako swallows when something in Bakugou’s eyes darken.

“Oi, you getting up anytime soon, round face?” His voice is low and rough, and it sends heat pooling dizzily in her stomach. Ochako scrambles off of him, babbling her apologies, but this one moment becomes the spark that ignites the fire burning through her body late at night, when she's alone in her tent and too tired to stop herself from dreaming.

They all start the same way – hand to hand combat, one on one training with Bakugou that transitions into grappling and wrestling. She’s strong, but he can easily overpower her nine times out of ten, and it’s so easy to imagine him holding her down with his hands and hips and thighs.

Sometimes, she fights back – struggles against him until she wriggles free and pins him too.

Sometimes, she leans up to press her mouth to his, and Bakugou bears down on her with all the tempestuous rage of a storm, intent on devouring her whole.

Sometimes, she lies there and lets Bakugou wraps a careful hand to her neck. His thumb presses into the underside of her jaw, tilting her chin up so he can mouth at the skin of her fluttering pulse as she arches into his touch, begging him for more.

Those are the worst to wake up to, her body trembling and aching with longing, and she has to press her fingers to the cold metal of her father’s swords to bring her back to her senses.

Still, she spars with Bakugou – and the dreams don’t stop.