#he is not the only Cars 3 director with a daughter

[pixarjem]

💙

Shipping Cruz with Lightning feels very weird and gross to me.

1. There is a big enough age gap between them that she remembers watching his races when she was kid. She is at most in her early-twenties and Lightning had been racing for ten years by Cars 3 and is considered “old” by a bunch of twenty-something racers in 2017. While an age gap like that isn’t wrong per se, there is that power imbalance in terms of life experience that a romance wouldn’t work. While I image Sally is the older one between her and Lightning, they don’t seem that far apart in age where one of them is +10 years older.

2. Speaking of power imbalances, Lightning was also technically her employer. Technically it’s more of Sterling, but Lightning has some authority and influence over her job so long as he’s working for Rusteze. Yeah Cruz quits at the end, but they were still working together. In that way, him helping out Cruz getting a shot at racing feels like a sort of like a “casting couch” situation.

3. I never saw where people think Lightning or Cruz had or could have romantic feelings. I got always got the impression Lightning was acting more like a father to her. Luckily that seems to be the majority of Cars fans, but somehow tvtropes begs to differ.

So yeah, I’m not a fan of daddy issues in that regard. Yet somehow my mother thought that Lightning and Cruz were a couple and wondered if Sally would get jealous. Honestly, I rather Cruz just be Lightning’s sort of daughter figure and Sally his girlfriend.

Marriage is overrated and ten years on Sally and Lightning are a healthy, functional couple. Sally has little interaction with Cruz but she seems to like her fine. She was mad at Jackson talking to Cruz and making her uncomfortable (I would too, especially if Armie Hammer was talking to me) and was very complimentary of her Dinoco paint job at the end. Sally has no issue with Lightning spending time with a younger woman because she trusts him and their relationship. Healthy relationships.

However, that doesn’t stop me from shipping Cruz/Natalie Certain and Sally/Holley. I’m more of a yuri fan than yaoi, but it’s understandable why yaoi is more prominent in this fandom.

[baekhyunsbestie]

── ❝ choose ❞ 🦢ྀི ̟!!

⟢ an arranged marriage au req’d by this qt anonie <3 :’) ty lovie!

જ⁀➴°⋆ content: 18+/MDNI. 22.5k+ words—omg i just don't know how to stfu do i ⁉️ baekhyun x f!reader. baekhyun x f!oc. sehun x f!reader. arranged marriage au. strangers to friends to lovers. the trifecta: angst, fluff, smut ⟡ alcohol consumption, explicit language, jealousy on both sides, solo masturbation (baek), pet names, praise kink, body worship, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, breeding kink, creampie ⟡

you could hardly wrap your head around the situation unraveling in front of you.

just a week ago, the idea of sitting in this stuffy, oversized meeting room, surrounded by your parents, their precious real estate company’s top shareholders, and a room full of suits from the country’s leading investment firm, would have been laughable. yet here you were, their board of directors staring across at yours like it was a chess match.

and apparently, you were the pawn.

“i know we’re asking a lot, dearest,” your father’s voice echoes carried the weight of his words as he spoke to you from the backseat of the car, heading toward the byuns’ estate. “but this arrangement with the byuns will strengthen our standing in the business world. you understand, don’t you?” 

the words swirled in your mind like smoke, thick and suffocating. his company was already worth billions, a family legacy poised to stretch across generations. this wasn’t about business; it was just cold, unquenchable greed.

“plus,” your mother chimed in, her tone softened by the tinkling of pearls around her neck, “it’s about time you started thinking about settling down, darling.” she shot you a sympathetic smile that felt as cold and detached as the diamonds in her ring.

you offered a forced smile and a nod, swallowing down the rush of anger that threatened to spill over. you did your best to hide the unease bubbling within, a skill honed since you were young, the result of years spent learning to maintain a poised, unflappable exterior.

twenty five years in, and it felt like you’d spent at least twenty of those meticulously walking the tightrope of your family’s expectations—always striving to make them proud, to meet every demand placed on you. from a young age, you were drilled in the understanding that your role as the daughter of a man of notable standing was to be obedient, to speak with poise and intelligence, to master the intricate dance of business that came with being his one and only heir.

it was almost impressive how deeply your parents had buried this secret, orchestrating your future without so much as a slip-up. a plan so meticulous it must have been in the works since you were a child.

the room was alive with chatter, a symphony of negotiations and legal jargon — talks of contracts, investments, and of course, prenups. your chest tightened, the air feeling heavier with every word. the faint hum of voices blurred as your gaze scanned the room, searching for him — the heir, the man you were apparently promised to, like a relic passed between dynasties.

but he wasn’t there.

as if his father could read your thoughts, his voice sliced through the tension, calm and composed. “baekhyun is on his way. he…had to handle some important business in the city for me. but don’t you worry, you’ll meet your fiancé very soon.”

fiancé. 

the word felt like a stone sinking in your stomach.

your nails dug into your palms, the sting grounding you, a small reminder that this wasn’t just some twisted dream. you were tired of this—tired of being your parents’ perfect little pawn, always following their rules, always nodding along. but this? this was too much.

your life wasn’t a business deal. but to them, that’s all it had ever been.

as the lively chatter swirled around you, the voices blending into a cacophony, you felt the faint throb of a headache creeping in. the air in the room seemed to thicken, pressing against your chest and making it harder to draw a full breath. your senses dulled, edges of the world blurring, and the faint dizziness began to spiral into something heavier, more oppressive.

the floor beneath your feet seemed unsteady, the room spinning as if it were alive. desperate to regain control, you pushed yourself to your feet, your only thought was to find some water—or escape the suffocating atmosphere entirely. each breath felt shallower, the weight of the situation curling in your stomach like nausea. in your haze, you barely registered the arrival of more guests, their presence another layer to the overwhelming din.

guests moved like shadows through the chaos, their chatter weaving another layer into the cacophony that pressed against your skull. the air felt heavier with every passing second, the room spinning just enough to blur the faces around you. each shaky step toward the door felt monumental, the faint promise of the hallway’s quiet drawing you forward like a lifeline. but before you could reach it, your knees gave way, a sudden betrayal of your resolve.

the ground surged up to claim you—but it never came. instead, strong arms caught you, steady and sure, halting your descent.

time seemed to pause as his touch anchored you, the frantic noise around you fading into a dull hum. lifting your gaze, you met his. the soft glow of the chandelier above crowned his features in a golden haze, casting delicate highlights over his cheekbones and the curve of his jaw. murmurs swept through the room like ripples on water, curious eyes turning toward the spectacle.

“you okay, sweetheart? you don’t look so good.” his voice was low, calm, each syllable threaded with quiet concern. his dark eyes searched yours, intent and unwavering, as his hands steadied you—gentle yet unyielding.

god, he’s beautiful. breathtaking, even. the plush curve of his pink lips, the faint scatter of freckles that added a boyish charm to his otherwise sharp features, the effortless way his perfectly styled hair framed his face like it belonged in a magazine spread.

“can someone grab her some water?” he called out, eyes still on you. he didn’t wait for a reply before one of the staff rushed to comply, leaving you with the full weight of his attention.

moments later, a chilled bottle was in his hand. he helped you back to your seat, his movements careful but efficient, like he’d done this a hundred times before. with a single twist, the cap came off, and he pressed the bottle into your hands.

“here. drink,” he said, firm but kind, his gaze never leaving your face as though willing you to trust him.

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you took a cautious sip, the cool liquid soothing against your parched throat. “i don’t know what came over me. i’m usually not like this.”

he watched you closely, a faint crease between his brows. “just take it easy for a moment,” he said, his voice softer now, the chaos of the room seeming to fade as his focus remained entirely on you.

"i’m baekhyun," he says, extending his hand toward you. his voice is steady, but there's a weight behind it, like he’s forcing himself to sound composed. “you must be my new fiancée.”

your fingers meet his in a brief, formal shake, and the two of you exchange tentative, almost apologetic smiles. it’s not the kind of moment you imagined when meeting your future husband—not romantic or thrilling, just... somber.

your gaze flickers over his features, taking in the way his body seems to rebel against the situation. his shoulders are stiff, tension radiating from him like a coiled spring. his eyes dart around the room, searching for some kind of escape, you suspect. when he finally settles in the chair next to you, his leg starts bouncing—an anxious rhythm against the polished floor. his fingers are laced tightly over his lap, knuckles white, and you can see the faint twitch of his jaw as he clenches it.

“care to take a walk?” you ask, your voice carrying a quiet plea for escape, craving the cool embrace of fresh air to cut through the weight of it all.

“yeah, let’s get outta here,” he answers, his gaze locking onto yours. an effortless, heart-stopping smile spreads across his face—so disarmingly perfect it almost feels unfair. you hate how good he looks when he does that, how his smile seems to eclipse the chaos swirling between you. but, in this tangled mess, it’s a small consolation. at least he’s easy on the eyes. it dulls the bitterness of it all—just enough to let you breathe.

even if only for a moment.

the two of you drift into his family’s garden, a hidden sanctuary tucked away from the grandeur and noise of the estate. vibrant blossoms stretch toward the sunlight in every direction, their hues weaving a striking contrast to the chaos you left behind. the air is cool and fresh, carrying a faint hint of jasmine, and as you inhale deeply, you feel the tension begin to melt from your shoulders. 

the world seems softer here.

he trails behind you, his gaze following your every move as you admire the kaleidoscope of colors—blush pinks, fiery reds, golden yellows. there’s a childlike wonder in the way you reach out to brush your fingers across delicate petals. “my mom planted all of this,” he says, his voice gentle as he watches your delight. his steps slow as you move further along the path, his tone softening as he adds, “she pours herself into the garden, says it keeps her busy. i help when i can, but... well, my schedule doesn’t always allow it.”

the weight of his words lingers in the air, a quiet sigh you almost miss over the faint rustle of leaves. eventually, you find yourselves settling on a bench nestled in the heart of the garden. the riot of blooms seems to fade into the periphery, leaving the two of you cocooned in a world of your own. you trace the carvings in the wooden seat, wondering if his mother chose this very spot to escape—a retreat from the noise, a small oasis among the roses and the canopy of trees.

his voice cuts through the stillness, low and threaded with a quiet ache. “i’m sure someone like you knows what it’s like.” the unspoken meaning in his words brushes against your thoughts as his eyes hold yours, steady yet weighted. the scent of jasmine clings to the pause between you, heavy and inescapable. “to never have the freedom to make your own choices.”

you nod slowly, the motion deliberate, though your smile falters, never quite reaching your eyes. your gaze drifts upward, drawn to the tree above. its branches sway gently, a soft rustling of leaves carried by the breeze, like nature's quiet lullaby. the speckled sunlight filters through the canopy, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow over your face. there’s a calmness in the way the leaves dance.

he watches you with an intensity that feels almost palpable, his gaze like a brushstroke tracing the delicate contours of your face. his brown eyes, touched by the sunlight streaming through the trees, shimmer with flecks of golden amber, glinting like embers in their depths. they flit over your features—your lips, the subtle curve of your cheek, the way your lashes catch the light—like he’s trying to decipher the answer to an unspoken question, a puzzle that only you can solve.

there’s a quiet tension in his expression, something searching, like he’s trying to piece together how the two of you, tethered by circumstance yet worlds apart, have found yourselves here. the silence between you is heavy, not with discomfort but with the weight of everything unsaid.

you can almost feel his thoughts skimming the edges of yours, the quiet intensity with which he watches every word you speak, every tiny movement, as if measuring their truth. could someone so grounded, so effortlessly genuine, truly be the daughter of such a money hungry mogul? you don’t carry the polished veneer he expected—the smooth entitlement, the rehearsed charm that usually drips from wealth. instead, there’s a quiet gravity to you, an unrefined rawness that sets you apart, unpolished yet undeniably real.

it unnerves him, perhaps, how different you are from the image he had in mind. but as his gaze lingers, softening around the edges, you realize it’s not judgment you see in his eyes—it’s curiosity. maybe even something more, something unspoken, nestled in the spaces between his glances and the golden light that dances over the garden.

a flicker of something unspoken weaves through your voice as you finally break the silence, the weight of shared understanding hanging just beneath the surface. “looks like we’ve got that in common.”

he seems to snap out of his thoughts, his brows furrowing as he tilts his head, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. “what do you mean?”

your lips curve into a faint, melancholic smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. there’s a vulnerability in the way you say it, as if the words themselves are a confession. “not being able to choose for ourselves.” 

the air in the garden was thick with the scent of blooming roses, their delicate petals swaying gently in the breeze as the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the manicured lawn. it was quiet here, far from the bustling estate where their families and shareholders were likely busy hashing out the terms of their future. you and baekhyun sat on the wooden bench beneath a willow tree, its long, graceful branches hanging low, creating a canopy of green above them.

baekhyun was leaning back, his gaze lost in the distance, fingers absentmindedly tracing the curve of the bench.

"so, i guess this is how it’s going to be," he said, his voice low and almost melancholic. "both of us, caught up in something we never asked for."

you turned your head to look at him, your eyes soft with understanding. you could see the way his lips barely curled into a smile, but there was a sadness to it, something more than just resignation.

"yeah," you said quietly. "my parents... they’ve made every decision for me. from the moment i was born, it was like my life was planned out, as if i never had a choice."

baekhyun chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. "same here. every decision, every step, every role—always played the part they wanted. my future was written before i even had a chance to pick up a pen."

there was a silence between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was the kind of silence that came with shared understanding, a mutual acknowledgment of the burden you both carried. the sound of birds in the distance seemed louder in the quiet, the rustling of the leaves above them almost rhythmic, as if nature itself was holding its breath, waiting for them to speak again.

"do you ever wonder what it would be like to just... choose for yourself?" your voice was barely above a whisper, but it was filled with longing, a quiet hope for something more than the life that had been mapped out for you both. "to do something—anything—that’s just yours?"

baekhyun’s eyes flickered to you, something raw and unguarded in his gaze. "all the time," he admitted. "but then i think about the consequences, the responsibilities. it's not that simple, is it?"

you looked away, staring at the grass beneath you, the weight of your shared truth hanging in the air. "no. i guess it’s not."

"but maybe," baekhyun added slowly, his voice thoughtful, "maybe we don’t have to completely surrender ourselves to what they want. maybe there’s a way to carve out a little space for ourselves, even in all of this."

you met his gaze then, and for the first time, something flickered between you—an unspoken agreement, a shared sense of rebellion. the world inside the byun estate might have been spinning around you, filled with deals and plans and expectations, but here, in the quiet of the garden, you were just two people who understood what it was like to be trapped by others’ dreams.

“so, if we’re going to do this, we need to figure out what we want, not just what our families want,” his voice is calm, but you hear the urgency behind his words, as if this conversation is one of the few things in his life he can control.

you nod, your gaze fixed on the ground beneath your feet. you’ve lived your life so far based on what others expected of you—always the perfect daughter, the future heir, never really given the chance to choose. this marriage, this arrangement, felt like just another chain, another expectation to carry. but now, sitting beside baekhyun, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this is an opportunity to reshape things.

“what if we made our own terms?” your voice is soft but resolute. “i don’t want to just play the role my parents set for me. i want... i want more than that.”

baekhyun turns to you, eyes searching yours. “what kind of terms are you talking about?”

you take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “i think we need to agree on some ground rules. like... real ground rules. for us. not for them, not for the company, not for the shareholders, but for us.”

baekhyun raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "indulge me, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice a soft, inviting challenge.

you pause for a moment, your breath catching as his words swirl around you, the pet name slipping past your guard, laced with a teasing warmth. his gaze locks onto you with an intensity that makes your pulse race. you take a steadying breath, forcing your composure back.

"first," you begin, your voice steady but edged with the quiet fire you've been holding back, "we need the freedom to choose for ourselves. our careers, our lives—those can’t be controlled by anyone else. i refuse to be treated like some asset, some pawn in someone else’s game." you meet his eyes, holding his gaze with unwavering resolve. "and i’m sure you don’t want that, either."

baekhyun nods slowly. “agreed. i’ve spent my whole life following their script. it’s exhausting.”

your eyes soften. “we’re not puppets. we don’t need to be. and... we don’t have to start a family just because it’s expected. we should decide when the time is right for us, not because it’s what our parents want. i don’t want to feel like my life’s purpose is only to produce heirs.”

baekhyun’s expression shifts, and his gaze turns thoughtful. “i can’t stand the pressure to ‘settle down’ just for the sake of appearances. if we’re going to do this, it’s got to be on our terms. not theirs.”

a long pause hangs between you, the only sound the distant hum of your families inside the estate. the tension has shifted into something more peaceful, as if your agreement on those points has created a small, sacred space between you, one where you can both breathe. but there’s more.

“one thing,” baekhyun continues, his voice quieter now. “we can’t let them interfere with what we build together. i don’t want anyone pushing us, telling us what to do. not when it comes to our relationship, at least.”

you look up at him, a flicker of something new in your gaze. “agreed. no one gets a say in what we do in private. not our families, not the board members—no one.”

“and,” he adds after a beat, “we need to be honest with each other. no playing games. no pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. if this is going to work, it can’t be based on a lie.”

your lips part, about to speak, but instead, you nod, feeling the quiet weight of that commitment settle between you. “honesty. always.”

there’s a pause before you add something that’s been on your mind. “and if we choose to... see other people—since this is an arranged marriage and all—it has to be with complete discretion. no secrets. we let each other know, no matter what.”

baekhyun raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable for a moment. then, he nods slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “i like that. transparency. no hidden agendas.”

you feel a weight lift, as if you’ve just cleared the air between you, creating space for something more real. this wasn’t going to be the typical marriage of convenience. it was theirs to shape, even with its constraints.

you sit there for a while longer, the sun dipping lower in the sky, casting a soft, golden light over the two of you. the garden feels quieter now, as though the earth itself is listening to your promises, absorbing the unspoken understanding between you.

“maybe,” baekhyun says, breaking the silence, “this could be the start of something we both actually choose. not just something we’re forced into.”

you turn your head toward him, meeting his gaze fully now. there’s a quiet, unspoken truth between you, something neither of you can fully explain. you’re not bound by your families’ expectations anymore, not entirely. in this moment, you have something real—something you can build from the ground up.

“we’ll figure it out,” you say, your voice steady but with a hint of hope. “together.”

baekhyun smiles softly, genuinely, a smile that feels like a promise. he leans back against the bench, watching the last of the sun’s rays slip beneath the horizon.

“together,” he echoes, his voice a quiet vow.

you’ve heard the whispers about byun baekhyun over the years—rumors that float through the air like smoke, delicate but undeniable. they speak of his prowess at his father’s investment firm, a place where he moves through high-stakes meetings with the kind of effortless ease that makes you wonder if he was born for this world of numbers and deals. he’s the golden boy of the byun empire, the heir to a billion-dollar fortune, his name passing from lips with a reverence tinged with envy. there’s no denying it: he’s the one everyone admires, the one they all want to be.

women look at him with longing in their eyes, a mix of desire and fascination. the men? they admire him in a way that’s almost reverential, wishing they could command the same kind of power, charm, and effortless charisma. there’s a certain gravity to him, an aura that demands attention without him having to try. he’s everything people talk about, everything they crave—untouchable, almost, and yet somehow, always within reach.

and, of course, he’s heard about you, too.

the heiress to the nation’s largest real estate company. your name is spoken with just as much weight as his, though in a very different way. your company’s worth mirrors his own—both in revenue and stature—but it’s not just the numbers that catch his attention. it’s you. the soft-hearted, kind, and undeniably stunning woman who runs a billion-dollar empire, carrying yourself with a quiet confidence that never needs to be announced. your philanthropic efforts are well known, hosting charity events that seem to shimmer with a light of their own. there’s a grace about you, something almost ethereal, like you’ve stepped out of a dream. people adore you, but not in the way they adore him—your admiration feels real, like it’s earned, not given by default.

he finds that… refreshing. surprising, even. everything about you is more genuine than he expected, and your presence is like a breath of fresh air in a world that can sometimes feel suffocating. you’re approachable, down to earth in a way that makes him pause and reconsider everything he thought he knew about someone like you. in a sea of pristine, curated images, you stand apart—real, raw, and completely unaffected by the shallow expectations placed on women of your stature.

and yet… there are no scandals, no rumors swirling around you like a storm. no messy breakups, no late-night flings or headlines about your personal life. nothing worthy of note, nothing that would tarnish the carefully crafted image the world has of you. you’re the perfect saint—untouched by the kind of drama that seems to follow people in your world.

it’s that spotless record, that pristine reputation, that draws him in even more. you are the perfect package—beautiful, poised, charitable, and yet somehow still down to earth despite the immense wealth you command. it makes him wonder: how had no one managed to sweep you off your feet yet? in a world full of people eager to claim what’s theirs, how had you remained untouched, unattached?

the question lingers in his mind, and despite himself, he can’t help but be intrigued.

as he sat across from you now, watching your parents sign the papers that would bind you to him, the difference between the two of you felt almost like a chasm, vast and undeniable. he knew his own reputation well—a turbulent storm of scandals, heartbreaks, and fleeting, empty affairs that left nothing behind but whispers and regret. it had become his armor, the kind of image he had long since accepted as his reality. but you? you were something else entirely.

there was a purity to you, an almost ethereal quality that seemed to shield you from the messiness of the world. your presence was both grounding and mesmerizing, like the calm in the eye of a storm. every movement, every glance was effortless—natural, graceful—as if you were meant to be the face of your family’s empire from the moment you were born. you exuded a quiet strength, a dignity that contrasted sharply with the chaotic and often reckless energy that surrounded him. you were unmarked by the world’s harshness, untouched by the scandals and drama that followed so many like him.

baekhyun found himself drawn to you, captivated by the way you held yourself with a poise that felt almost unreal. it wasn’t the beauty that caught his attention—it was something deeper, something more elusive. it was the way you seemed untouchable, like a rare and delicate flower that bloomed in a garden no one else could enter. and yet, there was an undeniable pull in that beauty, a force that beckoned him, making him ache to understand the world you inhabited, a world he could never fully grasp.

it was a strange pull, one he didn’t quite understand. there was something about you that challenged him—something so perfectly poised, so untouched by the storms of life that it felt like a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. how could anyone resist the temptation to peel back the layers, to see what lay beneath the surface?

but then again, baekhyun had never been one to turn away from a challenge. and you? you were the ultimate challenge. perfect, poised, and completely untarnished by the weight of the world. 

how could he not want to get to know you better?

the byun estate hums with the familiar buzz of luxury. voices blend into a harmonious murmur, glasses clink with a soft chime, and the scent of fine wine and expensive perfume floats through the air. you've been here before, countless times—hosting galas, attending charity events, being the face of your family's empire. this world is nothing new to you. the polished smiles, the fleeting conversations, the constant ebb and flow of social rituals. you're used to the attention, to the admiring gazes that follow you from the moment you enter a room. it's nothing you can't handle.

but tonight, it's different.

tonight, the nerves in your chest feel like something foreign, something new. it’s not the usual excitement of orchestrating an event or making an impression; this is different. it’s the kind of nervousness that coils tight in your stomach and makes your palms clammy, the kind that comes with a weight you can’t quite place. it’s not just the eyes on you now—it’s the knowledge that those eyes are on you because you’re engaged. you are now, irrevocably, tied to baekhyun.

you catch yourself fidgeting with the hem of your dress, adjusting the delicate fabric for no reason at all, and then quickly stop, taking a slow breath to steady yourself. you’ve done this a hundred times before. but you can’t help the jitter of nerves that seems to crawl under your skin, prickling with the knowledge that this is an event meant for you and baekhyun. an engagement party, the beginning of a future that you never asked for but now have to walk into, with every eye in the room trained on you.

baekhyun has been standing across the room, holding court with a small group of guests. his figure is unmistakable—tall, effortlessly composed, exuding a quiet confidence that draws people in. you’ve watched him navigate the space, exchanging pleasantries, always poised. but when his eyes meet yours, there's something different about it. it's not the casual acknowledgment you’re used to when you’re the center of attention at an event. this is something deeper, something that makes your breath hitch for a fraction of a second.

and then, without missing a beat, he makes his way toward you, cutting through the crowd with a fluidity that feels almost deliberate. you swallow hard, feeling that strange heat rise to your cheeks again, despite how practiced you are in social situations. it’s not just anyone coming toward you now; it’s your fiancé—the man you’re about to enter a lifetime with, in front of a room full of people, their eyes watching, judging, speculating.

he stops just a few feet away, his smile warm and easy, like he’s just another person in this sea of faces, and yet there’s something different about the way he looks at you. not just out of politeness or social obligation, but something far more genuine, like he’s actually interested. you can feel the weight of his gaze, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

"you look beautiful tonight," he says, his voice a soothing balm that helps ground you in the moment. his words cut through the buzz of conversation, making everything feel quieter, softer.

you can’t help but laugh softly, trying to mask the nerves with the practiced ease you’ve perfected over years of public appearances. “thank you,” you say, but your voice betrays you, a little too soft, a little too unsure for someone who has spent their life on stages like this. “it’s a lot to take in, honestly. not exactly the usual type of event.”

he nods, a small, knowing smile on his lips. “i get it. it’s... different, isn’t it?” his tone is gentle, and there’s an understanding in the way he looks at you, as if he can sense the strain of the moment.

you can’t decide if that makes you feel more at ease or more exposed. the gentle way he’s watching you, like he sees past the polished exterior you’ve perfected over the years, makes your chest tighten. this isn’t just a man offering a polite compliment. no, there’s a subtle warmth behind it, something that’s genuine. and that’s what makes your stomach flutter in a way you hadn’t expected.

before you can respond, a voice cuts through the moment—sweet, syrupy, but carrying a quiet sharpness.

“well, well, well. isn’t this interesting?” the voice is sweet, dripping with something syrupy but sharp. 

she’s stunning. stunning—like a high-fashion model, her posture regal and her features flawless. her skin is smooth, a deep shade of mocha, and her hair falls in sleek waves around her shoulders, glossy and perfect. the way she holds herself is effortless, a kind of confidence that you can’t quite place, but it’s magnetic. you can feel the tension rise in the air as her eyes flicker from baekhyun to you, assessing you in the same quiet, deliberate way she seems to assess everything.

the woman’s presence alone seems to turn the room’s energy up a notch. there’s an edge to her voice as she continues, her gaze fixed on you with an almost calculating look. "i didn't think the byun men were ones for arranged marriages," she says, her tone too sweet to be anything but sarcastic. "how... quaint." her lips curl into a smile, though it doesn’t reach her eyes, which gleam with a kind of challenge.

you manage to lift your chin, but her words, her presence, make you feel small. you shift uncomfortably, the room suddenly feeling too hot. who is she?

baekhyun shifts slightly at her words, his smile still intact but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—a flash of discomfort, or maybe something else entirely—that you can’t quite decipher. he takes a half-step closer to you, his hand brushing yours subtly, almost protectively.

“aya, i didn’t expect you to be here tonight,” baekhyun says, his voice tight but polite. it’s clear there’s history between them, something unsaid, but you can’t quite grasp it.

aya’s eyes flicker back to you, and for a moment, it feels like she’s sizing you up, like she’s deciding something. she doesn’t bother hiding the slight sneer that tugs at her lips as she looks you over. “oh, i couldn’t miss the show,” she says, her tone saccharine, the words laced with something deeper. “i didn’t realize the newest member of the byun family would be so... delicate.”

the words sting, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks, heat spreading through your skin as a strange wave of doubt rises in your chest. you glance at baekhyun, but his eyes are fixed on aya, his jaw tight. there's something unspoken between them that you can feel but can’t quite name.

before you can gather your thoughts, your parents appear, pulling you two away, and in that moment, your conversation with baekhyun and aya is cut short. as you walk away, your mind races. who was she? and why had baekhyun’s demeanor changed so quickly? was there something between them?

the questions swirl in your mind, and you can’t shake the feeling that aya is more than just a passing acquaintance. there's something deeper, something personal, and now, you're left wondering just how much you don’t know about baekhyun and the world you're about to be tied to.

three months had passed, and in that time, you and baekhyun had settled into a rhythm that felt surprisingly natural. between appointments with the wedding planner, company dinners, and endless events, your interactions had grown from polite exchanges to something far more comfortable. what had begun as a partnership forged out of obligation now carried an air of genuine camaraderie.

it didn’t take long before your schedules started overlapping even more. casual meetings evolved into dinner dates—just the two of you, away from the scrutiny of planners and business associates. those moments felt different, unburdened by expectation, allowing you to see each other as individuals rather than roles in a contract.

you discovered that the two of you had more in common than you’d anticipated. shared music tastes that had you both curating playlists for car rides, a mutual appreciation for certain foods that turned dinners into culinary adventures, and a surprising knack for poking fun at each other’s humor. you bonded over a love for art, both traditional and modern, and even found yourselves admiring each other’s impeccable sense of style—always coordinated, as if without trying.

the more time you spent with him, the more you began to notice the little things. the way baekhyun’s gaze would linger on you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, the soft quirk of his lips when he caught you smiling at something, the subtle brush of his fingers against yours that left a warmth in their wake. his presence carried a kind of tenderness, a quiet thoughtfulness that seemed to grow with every passing day.

you couldn’t pinpoint when it happened exactly, but you started feeling something deeper for him. it wasn’t just about finding him attractive—though he was undeniably so—it was the way he made you feel seen and understood, as if you were standing on even ground with someone who truly got you.

for the first time since this whole engagement had been arranged, a weight lifted off your shoulders. the uncertainty that once loomed over you began to dissipate, replaced by something softer, something warm. you found yourself feeling grateful—not for the circumstances, but for him. baekhyun was like a mirror image of yourself in many ways, a male counterpart who complemented you in all the right ways.

as the weeks passed, attending events and parties together became second nature. while your appearances had always been for the sake of optics, they now felt like opportunities to simply enjoy each other’s company in a setting that didn’t demand conversation but allowed for quiet connection.

tonight was one of those nights. the air buzzed with anticipation as you and baekhyun prepared for yet another event, but for the first time, you realized you weren’t dreading it. if anything, you looked forward to it—because he’d be by your side.

the gala hall pulsed with an opulent energy—muted laughter, the murmur of refined conversation, and the melodic clinking of crystal glasses. chandeliers bathed the room in a golden glow, casting shimmering patterns onto the polished marble floors. dressed in a gown that hugged your frame like it had been stitched with you in mind, you moved through the crowd with practiced grace, your every step exuding poise even as a quiet unease coiled in your stomach.

baekhyun stood effortlessly at your side, his presence magnetic. the sharp lines of his tuxedo accentuated his lean frame, and his posture held a kind of quiet authority. his hand rested lightly on the small of your back, a touch that seemed intimate to onlookers but was purely performative. the two of you cut an impressive figure together—a vision of elegance and synergy.

to the world, you were the perfect couple, a match made in heaven. but beneath the polished facade lay the truth: you were little more than companions caught in a meticulously arranged engagement, each navigating the precarious expectations thrust upon you.

“that you, angel?”

the low, familiar voice broke through the hum of the room, warm and laced with teasing nostalgia. you froze for a moment before turning, your heart skipping as you took in the sight of sehun.

his boyish grin was as irresistible as you remembered, though time had sharpened his features into something more striking. he had grown into himself, his presence commanding yet easy, like a favorite memory brought to life.

“sehun!” your voice carried genuine surprise, a smile brightening your face as you closed the distance between you. without hesitation, you wrapped him in a warm hug, the scent of his cologne instantly familiar, a subtle reminder of carefree days long gone.

“it’s been forever,” you said, pulling back to meet his gaze, your smile lingering.

baekhyun’s hand slid from the small of your back as if retreating from a territory no longer his, though he stayed close enough to watch. his brows drew together in a faint furrow, the only outward sign of the unease rippling through him as your attention shifted entirely to sehun.

your conversation with sehun flowed effortlessly, the years apart melting away under the weight of shared memories. his laughter, warm and familiar, softened as the minutes passed, his gaze lingering on you like he was cataloging every detail he had missed. his words turned personal, each one dipping into a past neither of you had truly revisited.

“god, you still look as beautiful as ever,” sehun said, his voice dipping lower, eyes tracing your figure with an intensity that made you shy under the weight of it. you glanced down, a soft laugh escaping, your fingers brushing your necklace out of habit.

from across the room, baekhyun’s conversation with a business partner faltered. his eyes snapped to you, catching the moment between you and sehun. the way sehun looked at you—like you were something he regretted losing, something he wasn’t ready to give up on—set something off in baekhyun. a flame of something unnameable stirred low in his chest.

sehun leaned a little closer, lowering his voice as if you were the only two people in the room. “so, i hear congratulations are in order,” he said, the casual edge of his tone undermined by the way his eyes searched yours. “engaged, huh?”

your breath hitched for a moment, the question catching you off guard. “it’s… complicated,” you admitted, the truth slipping out before you could stop yourself.

you explained the nature of your engagement, how it wasn’t a grand love story but an arrangement born of convenience and obligation. you admitted you were still figuring out what it meant, how to navigate the fragile, undefined space between friendship and something more.

sehun’s expression softened, but not in the way you expected. there was an edge to it, a wistfulness laced with something more potent. his lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes betrayed a lingering ache.

“that’s a shame,” he murmured, his voice dropping low enough that only you could hear. “you deserve more than complicated, sweets.”

baekhyun, now standing a few steps away, caught every word, his sharp hearing honing in on the conversation like a weapon. his jaw tightened, the tension in his posture betraying his otherwise calm demeanor.

his gaze flicked to sehun, noting the way he leaned into your space, how his eyes drank in every detail of you, his lingering touches disguised as friendly gestures. it was unmistakable. sehun wasn’t just catching up. he was still in love with you.

and the realization settled into baekhyun’s chest like a stone, heavy and inescapable.

baekhyun’s presence shifted the atmosphere in an instant as he closed the gap between you and sehun, his stride purposeful, his gaze sharp. the moment he stood beside you, it was clear he was no longer just a bystander in this conversation.

“sehun, right?” baekhyun’s voice was calm, but the underlying tension in his tone was unmistakable. his eyes, however, were anything but polite—they were intense, unreadable, and they locked onto sehun with a quiet ferocity.

sehun’s lips twitched into a thin, controlled smile, a hint of something that was more a challenge than a greeting. “baekhyun,” he acknowledged with a nod, his eyes scanning the space between you. “we were just catching up. you know, we go way back.”

“that’s obvious,” baekhyun responded smoothly, his arm slipping around your waist with such ease that it felt almost rehearsed, like a declaration of ownership wrapped in casual familiarity. his touch was possessive, though subtle enough to not draw immediate attention.

sehun’s eyes flickered downward, his gaze briefly tracing the line of baekhyun’s arm resting on you before snapping back to his face. the playful edge in his smile hardened into something sharper, more pointed. “must be nice,” he drawled, his tone carrying a layer of ice, “getting to enjoy the benefits of a relationship without actually having to earn it.”

baekhyun’s posture stiffened, his jaw tightening as his eyes darkened with a dangerous edge. “excuse me?” the words left his lips with chilling precision, his voice dipping in temperature as the air around the three of you seemed to still, the tension thickening by the second.

you placed a hand lightly on baekhyun’s chest, a subtle plea for him to keep his cool, but sehun wasn’t finished.

“i’m just saying,” sehun continued, his eyes narrowing, “some of us actually had to work for her time and affection.” his voice lowered to a soft, venomous tone, dripping with barely concealed disdain. “not everyone gets handed things on a silver platter.”

the words hung in the air, sharp and biting. baekhyun’s grip on his composure slipped just slightly, his arm falling from your waist as he took a slow, deliberate step toward sehun. his hands curled into fists, muscles coiling with restrained fury. “careful, sehun,” he warned, his voice now low, dangerous, “you’re starting to sound bitter.”

sehun didn’t back down. if anything, his smirk grew, and his words came out with a touch more venom. “and you’re starting to sound insecure.”

the air between baekhyun and sehun was thick with tension, and you could feel the shift in the atmosphere as the subtle standoff drew the attention of those nearby. murmurs rippled through the crowd, all eyes instinctively moving toward the brewing conflict. your pulse quickened, and before things could escalate further, you stepped in between them, your hands pressing against baekhyun’s broad chest to hold him back.

“stop it, both of you,” you hissed, your voice low, but every syllable sharp and filled with authority. the heat of the moment crackled around you, but you stood firm. “this is not the time or place.”

sehun let out a quiet chuckle and took a small step back, his smirk never faltering, but the challenge in his eyes remained. baekhyun’s gaze, however, stayed fixed on him, a silent storm of possessiveness swirling in his eyes, the tension between them practically vibrating like static.

“i’ll see you around, sweets,” sehun purred, his words dripping with a mixture of mockery and something deeper, before he turned and melted into the crowd.

you turned to face baekhyun, frustration and confusion flashing in your eyes. “what was that?” you demanded, your voice betraying the storm of emotions you were fighting to keep in check.

“he’s still in love with you,” baekhyun spat, his voice low, like a growl that barely contained the storm of jealousy brewing beneath the surface.

“and that gives you the right to start a scene?” you shot back, the words escaping before you could stop them. you could feel your temper rising, and the last thing you needed was a confrontation. without waiting for his response, you stormed off, needing to clear your head.

you found yourself in the quiet sanctuary of the bathroom, the cool marble under your palms grounding you as you splashed cold water onto your flushed face. the chill of it did little to calm the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. just as you exhaled, trying to steady your heartbeat, the door creaked open. through the reflection in the mirror, you saw aya, her presence as smooth as ever, leaning against the doorframe with that calculating smile of hers.

“well,” she purred, her tone heavy with amusement, “you must be something special to have two men practically fighting over you like that.”

you stiffened, not allowing her the satisfaction of seeing your discomfort. your eyes locked with hers in the mirror, steady and defiant. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, but filled with a quiet edge.

god, why is she everywhere?

aya chuckled, the sound like the scrape of ice over a raw wound, her lips curving into a sly, knowing smile. “oh, come on. it’s written all over their faces. but don’t get too comfortable. baekhyun has a type, and i’m sure you’re just... temporary.”

her words sliced through the air, cold and sharp, but you refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. your spine straightened, your resolve hardening like steel. you met her gaze with unwavering confidence, every inch of you radiating defiance.

“if that’s all, i think you should leave,” you said, your voice steady, calm—giving nothing away.

for a moment, aya’s smile faltered, her eyes narrowing slightly, but she quickly recovered, the facade of sweetness back in place. “suit yourself,” she said with a shrug, pushing herself off the counter and exiting without another word.

you stayed in front of the mirror for a long moment after, your reflection staring back at you, caught between the tension of the evening and the weight of the drama unfolding around you.

you took a deep breath, willing the rush of emotions to settle before you stepped out of the bathroom. the hallway was quiet, a welcome contrast to the storm of tension you had just left behind. as you walked, you tried to collect your thoughts, hoping the worst of the night was behind you.

but when you turned the corner, there he was. baekhyun. his hand rested on the back of his neck, his posture tense as he stared down at the floor, clearly lost in thought.

you paused in your tracks, your heart still racing with the remnants of the tension that had flared only moments before. a flicker of frustration stirred within you, but before you could decide whether to avoid him or confront him, baekhyun’s gaze lifted, catching yours across the quiet hallway. the softness in his eyes was immediate, and for a split second, the weight of everything seemed to settle between you two.

“hey, sweetheart,” he said, his voice quieter than usual—almost tentative, as though he were carefully selecting each word. “i’m sorry for earlier. i didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

your throat tightened, the weight of the night pressing down on you, the sting of everything still fresh. you swallowed, pushing down the swirl of emotions threatening to rise. “it’s fine,” you replied, your voice steady but betraying nothing of the tension still coiling inside you. “but i don’t want you making a scene like that again, baekhyun. it’s… unnecessary.”

for a brief moment, his expression faltered, the usual confidence slipping as something softer flickered in his eyes—vulnerability, maybe even regret. he took a slow step closer, his hands sliding into his pockets as if to steady himself, his posture shifting in a subtle attempt to ground the brewing storm between you two.

“i know,” he murmured, the words low, almost lost in the air. “i get it. i was… out of line. i don’t know why i reacted like that, honestly. sehun was… just so obvious. and it was hard for me to watch, watching him like that with you. i didn’t want other people getting the wrong idea.”

your brow furrowed as you absorbed his words, trying to make sense of them. your mind flashed back to the confrontation with aya in the bathroom—her words cold and sharp, but you weren’t ready to bring that up. not now. not when things were already so tangled.

“what exactly are you trying to say, baekhyun?” you asked, your tone steady but pointed, trying to keep your own emotions from spilling out in the heat of the moment.

baekhyun hesitated, and for a long second, his eyes searched yours, as if looking for the right way to explain himself.

he paused, his gaze locking onto yours with a quiet intensity, as though he were searching for something—perhaps understanding, or a sign that you wouldn’t hold his outburst against him. when he spoke again, his voice was softer, almost hesitant, as if weighing each word. “i know i overreacted earlier. but if you have feelings for him—sehun—it’s okay. i’ll understand...i know we said we'd let each other choose and all.”

you blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness, the words lingering in the air before you could process them. a moment of confusion passed between you, but then you shook your head, dispelling the uncertainty. “i don’t have feelings for sehun,” you said firmly, your voice steady, though it trembled with the storm of emotions underneath. “i just didn’t want you to make a scene, especially not in front of everyone. neither of us needs that kind of attention.”

a subtle shift occurred in baekhyun’s expression, the tightness in his face easing as his gaze softened. you could almost feel the tension drain from him, like a weight lifted off his shoulders. he ran a hand through his hair, a small exhale slipping from his lips. it was a relief, so quiet and imperceptible, but you saw it—the way his shoulders relaxed and the lines around his eyes softened.

“i don’t know what came over me,” he admitted, his voice taking on a self-deprecating edge, the hint of a sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “sorry if i made things uncomfortable.”

you met his gaze, a warmth blooming in your chest as you saw the sincerity in his eyes. the storm between you two was already beginning to fade, replaced by a quiet understanding. “it’s alright, baekhyun,” you replied softly, the reassurance in your voice melting the last remnants of tension. “we’re good.”

the silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t heavy or awkward—it was more like a quiet understanding settling over both of you. still, there was a lingering thought in your mind, a question you didn’t know how to answer: why had baekhyun reacted like that? did he… like you? you tried to push the thought away, burying it deep, knowing the kind of history baekhyun had. you couldn’t afford to think that way. you couldn’t let yourself believe that byun baekhyun might want you—more than just his fiancée in an arranged marriage. you weren’t sure you could measure up to someone like aya, and that thought alone was enough to keep your heart locked up tight.

finally, baekhyun gave a small nod, his usual confidence slipping back into place as the tension melted away from his posture. he stood a little taller now, a renewed ease settling into his movements.

“well,” he said, his voice returning to its familiar warmth, “let’s go back out there then. like nothing happened.”

you couldn’t help but smile, a small curve of your lips. without another word, the two of you turned toward the party, the noise and chatter of the crowd greeting you as if nothing had happened at all. the tension seemed to vanish in an instant, replaced by the rhythm of the night continuing on around you. and just like that, it felt like everything was normal again.

you couldn’t help but smile slightly, the tension in your chest finally easing. “yeah, let’s do that.”

side by side, you both walked back toward the party, the noise and chatter picking up as you entered the room. it felt like everything had returned to normal—at least on the surface. the evening continued, the night moving forward, and for now, so did the both of you.

getting caught in a storm on the weekend you both had plans definitely wasn’t on your bingo card. the rain came down in heavy sheets, the city skyline all but vanishing behind a blur of water streaking down the windows of your penthouse. it had only been a few days since baekhyun moved in, settling into his own bedroom across the hall—a necessary arrangement, according to both your parents. they insisted it was time, given how long your engagement had been simmering in the public eye. rumors had started to swirl, questioning how “in love” you two could really be if you weren’t even living together yet. appearances needed to be upheld, after all.

thankfully, it wasn’t as uncomfortable as you both had feared. no awkward silences or strained politeness. to your mutual surprise, things flowed easily. over time, you had become good friends, maybe even closer than you’d anticipated, but not so close that moving in together felt natural. it was more of a performance, a shared responsibility to keep the façade intact.

this weekend, you had both planned to escape the confines of the penthouse for separate outings. you were supposed to spend the day shopping with your closest friends, an itinerary of boutiques and coffee stops laid out in your mind. baekhyun, on the other hand, had his golf bag prepped and ready for a day on the green with his buddies. but now, the storm had derailed everything, leaving you both stranded in a shared space with no choice but to wait it out.

“what should we do?” you ask as you scroll through the weather app on your phone, the updates saying there were numerous road closures. 

“i don’t think we have a choice but to stay in, sweetheart,” baekhyun sighs, plopping on the couch. “maaaan, i really wanted to try out those new golf clubs today.” 

you plop down next to him in the same exaggerated way, “and i really wanted to go shopping in the city with my girlfriends.”

for a few minutes, you both sit there in companionable quiet, the only sound the faint tapping of rain against the windows. then, baekhyun’s gaze begins to wander around your shared home. his brows lift slightly, and a mischievous glint lights up his eyes as an idea forms. “wait… didn’t you say this place has a wine cellar? what if we… raided it?”

you turn to him, your eyes sparkling like he just proposed the most brilliant plan in history. a wide grin spreads across your face. “oh my god, yes. that sounds perfect. you grab a few bottles, and i’ll order room service. pizza sound good? i like mine with pineapples.”

he watches you, momentarily captivated, a thought slipping uninvited into his mind: god, it’s like you were made to be my wife. but he quickly pushes it aside. no, he can’t say something like that. so instead, he flashes you a grin, his voice warm and teasing. 

“you’re speaking my language, sweetheart.”

two and a half bottles of wine down, a half-eaten pizza forgotten on the coffee table, and what feels like the seventh round of mario kart lighting up the tv screen—you and baekhyun are a pair of drunken, giggling messes sprawled across the couch. the atmosphere is warm and easy, the kind of buzz that softens edges and makes even losing seem a little less bitter.

“you’re such an ass!” you whine, your voice cutting through the hum of the game as baekhyun nails you with a blue shell, sending your character spiraling just as you were about to secure an easy win.

his laugh is loud and shameless, his grin stretching from ear to ear as he leans back against the couch, basking in his petty victory. “don’t hate the player, baby, hate the game,” he drawls, voice dripping with smugness.

oh, if he could kiss that pout right off your lips, he absolutely would.

the race grows tense as the finish line looms closer. with baekhyun now in the lead, you resort to desperate measures. as his fingers deftly work the controller, you smirk and reach out, clapping your palm over his eyes.

“hey, what the hell! cheater!” he exclaims, laughter bubbling out of him as he blindly mashes buttons.

you don’t let go until your character crosses the finish line in first place, throwing your controller into the air in triumph.

“HA! i win!” you declare, throwing your head back in drunken glee.

baekhyun shakes his head in mock disbelief, his eyes narrowing. “oh, so you like to play dirty, huh?”

before you can respond, a couch pillow smacks you square in the face. you gasp, feigning offense as you grab the pillow and throw it back at him with all the strength your wine-dulled reflexes can muster.

the look on baekhyun’s face shifts—his expression playful but determined. “you’ve just declared war.”

what starts as a volley of thrown pillows quickly devolves into chaos. laughter fills the room as naekhyun chases you around the coffee table, both of you dodging and weaving through the small space like children. you leap over the table in a bid to escape, but baekhyun catches you, his arms wrapping around your waist as you both tumble back onto the couch in a heap of limbs.

he pins you beneath him, straddling your hips as his hands dart to your sides, fingers mercilessly tickling. your laughter comes in breathless gasps as you squirm beneath him, trying and failing to fend him off.

“who knew my pretty fiancée was such a sore loser?” he teases, finally relenting as you lie panting beneath him, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

your chest heaves as you catch your breath, but the competitive glint in your eye hasn’t faded. using his momentary pause to your advantage, you push him back, flipping him onto his back with surprising agility. now it’s your turn to straddle him, your hands pressed to his chest as you grin triumphantly.

“looks like i win—again,” you say, your voice breathy but teasing.

baekhyun blinks up at you, wide-eyed and momentarily stunned. his mind races, thoughts derailing entirely at the sight of you perched above him, your face mere inches from his. if every loss ended like this, he’d let you sabotage him every time.

your gaze flickers down to his lips, plush and inviting. you can’t help but wonder how soft they’d feel against yours, how easily they’d mold to you if you just leaned in.

but then the weight of reality presses in—a whisper of boundaries threading through your hazy thoughts. quickly, you scramble off him, retreating to the floor as you lean back against the couch, putting a safe distance between you.

“boundaries,” you murmur under your breath, though you’re not sure if the word is meant for him or yourself.

baekhyun sits up slowly, watching you with an unreadable expression. he doesn’t press, but the way his gaze lingers makes your heart race all the same. the game continues to play on the tv, but neither of you reaches for your controllers. the moment hangs in the air, charged with something unspoken, something neither of you dares to name.

the tension in the room lingers like a static charge, neither of you quite meeting the other’s eyes. you clear your throat softly, fingers brushing against the switch controller as you pick it up in an effort to shift the mood. “what other game should we play?” you ask, forcing a casual tone that doesn’t quite mask the slight waver in your voice.

baekhyun sits up straighter on the couch, running a hand through his hair as he clears his throat. “i’ve got super smash bros. if you’re up for it?”

you glance at him, a skeptical frown tugging at your lips. “but i don’t know how to play.”

a low chuckle rumbles from his chest, his smile softening the sharp edges of his face. “don’t worry, i’ll teach you.”

before you can process his words, he shifts on the couch, sliding down to position himself directly behind you. his legs bracket your sides, and you feel the warmth of his knees pressing lightly against your hips. his arms come around yours, larger and steadier, as his hands settle over yours, guiding your fingers to the buttons on the controller.

the scent of his cologne envelops you, heady and intoxicating, a blend of something fresh and woodsy with just a hint of spice. it fills your senses, clouding your thoughts as his voice murmurs close to your ear. “okay, so this button’s for jumping, this one’s for attacks, and if you press these together, you’ll do a combo,” he explains, his breath brushing against your cheek with every word.

you nod mutely, trying—desperately—to focus on the screen. but it’s impossible when his presence is so overwhelming. his warmth seeps into you, his body practically melding with yours as he leans in closer to point out a move. the deep timbre of his voice wraps around you, lulling and steady, though you barely register the words.

your concentration falters when his hands shift slightly, fingers brushing yours with a lightness that sends shivers down your spine. you lean into him instinctively, unable to resist the pull of his proximity. the way his toned arms feel around you, the sheer size of him encompassing you, makes your breath hitch. his hands fit over yours with startling perfection, like they were always meant to be there.

you try to focus on the game—on the screen, the characters, the combos he’s patiently teaching you—but your attention keeps drifting back to him. the solid weight of his chest against your back, the way his head tilts to the side of yours as he gives instructions, the low hum of approval he lets out when you manage to execute a move correctly—it’s all too much and not enough all at once.

“got it?” he asks softly, his lips dangerously close to your ear, his tone as warm and inviting as the heat radiating off him.

you nod again, though you’re not sure if you’ve actually absorbed anything he’s said. all you know is that you wouldn’t mind losing this game—or maybe just playing forever—if it meant staying this close to him.

the rain patters softly against the windows, a rhythmic soundtrack to the dimly lit room. after a series of giggly super smash bros. matches and a few too many glasses of wine, you and baekhyun have settled into the couch, the comforting hum of twilight filling the cozy silence. the glow of the tv bathes you both in flickering shades of blue and gray, perfectly complementing the gentle storm outside.

your body leans into his, the warmth of his side a comforting cocoon that feels almost natural. the smell of his cologne mingles with the faint aroma of rain-soaked earth wafting in from the slightly cracked window. you drunkenly tilt your head up, meeting his gaze with a hazy, soft smile.

“hey, baekhyun,” you slur, hiccup punctuating your words as you clutch a throw pillow to your chest like a lifeline. “i know our situation sucks, but i just wanna say—hiccup—i wouldn’t wanna be in an arranged marriage with anyone else but you.”

baekhyun freezes for a split second, your words hitting him like the crack of lightning in the distance. his heart stutters, heat creeping up his neck, settling high on his cheeks. he hopes the alcohol in his system will serve as a good excuse if you notice. “oh, yeah? and why’s that, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice playful but laced with something deeper, something softer.

you blink up at him, your pupils wide and glassy from the wine. “because…” another hiccup interrupts you, making him chuckle. “i don’t think anyone gets me like you do. plus… you’re like, really, really, really cute.”

the melodic sound of your laughter sends a ripple of warmth through him, and he chuckles, shaking his head as his fingers reach out to pinch your flushed cheeks. “is that right, angel? well, you’re not so bad yourself,” he teases, though his touch lingers longer than necessary, his fingertips brushing against your skin with a tenderness he can’t quite explain.

your response is a soft yawn, your eyelids fluttering heavily as the wine begins to pull you under. “even though...” you trail off, your words slurring slightly, “even though our relationship is all but loveless.”

his smile falters, the weight of your words settling heavily between you. “you think so?” he asks finally, his voice quieter now, almost lost beneath the gentle patter of rain.

when no reply comes, he turns his head to find you leaning into him, your head resting softly on his shoulder, your breathing even and steady. 

you’ve fallen asleep.

for a moment, baekhyun simply sits there, his gaze fixed on the serene expression on your face. slowly, almost hesitantly, his hand rises, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face. his fingertips linger, as if reluctant to break contact, and he swallows hard as he takes you in.

god, you’re breathtaking. even like this, in the quiet vulnerability of sleep, you manage to steal the air from his lungs.

the back of his hand grazes your cheek, marveling at the softness of your skin, so warm and delicate beneath his touch. he traces your features with his eyes, memorizing every curve and line, every tiny detail that makes you... you. and as he does, a thought strikes him with startling clarity:

was this your idea of ‘loveless’?

because if it was, baekhyun thinks he might be utterly fucked. he leans his head back against the couch, a faint smile tugging at his lips as his heart swells with something he can’t quite name. not yet, anyway.

the door swung open, revealing baekhyun’s mother with a warm smile that immediately reminded you of him. her eyes crinkled at the corners, just like her son’s did when he was particularly delighted. “hi there, love. to what do we owe the pleasure?”

you returned her smile with equal warmth, the kind that made you feel instantly welcomed. “i’m here to help you with the garden,” you explained as she gestured for you to step inside. “baekhyun mentioned he tries to come by when he’s free to lend a hand, but since he’s away on business, i thought i’d fill in for him.”

her smile deepened, a mix of surprise and fondness lighting up her expression. “well, aren’t you sweet?” she said, guiding you through the cozy hallway toward the backyard.

the next few hours flew by in a whirl of soil-streaked hands, shared laughter, and the satisfying rustle of newly planted magnolias settling into their beds. the air smelled of fresh earth and the faint sweetness of magnolia blooms, and the rhythmic sounds of gardening created a peaceful camaraderie between the two of you.

as you leaned back to admire your work, you wiped a streak of dirt from your cheek and grinned. “i think you and i make a pretty good team, mrs. byun,” you said, your voice light with satisfaction.

she handed you a glass of ice-cold lemonade, condensation beading down the sides. “please,” she said, her voice soft but firm, “call me ‘mom.’”

the word settled over you like a warm embrace, filling you with a mix of gratitude and quiet joy. you both sank onto the wooden bench, the same one where you and baekhyun had once come up with the terms of your arrangement. the breeze rustled the leaves around you, carrying with it a sense of peace.

unbeknownst to you, baekhyun stood at a distance, his chest still rising and falling from the turmoil that had gripped him on the car ride over. he hadn’t made his presence known, too entranced by the scene before him. the way you interacted with his mother—so effortlessly warm, so genuinely kind—made his chest ache in the most beautiful way. there you were, sitting side by side with her, your laughter weaving seamlessly with hers, the sunlight highlighting the pure happiness on your face. in that moment, his heart swelled with a clarity that caught him off guard: this was everything he had always dreamed of, yet never believed he deserved.

only an hour ago, baekhyun had stepped into the penthouse, the silence that greeted him heavier than usual. a chill ran through him as he called out your name, his voice unfamiliar in the vast, empty space. the echo bounced off the walls, but there was no answer. his heart rate quickened, unease settling in as he pulled out his phone and dialed your number. it rang once, then went straight to voicemail. his stomach twisted, and he tried again. same result. his chest tightened with frustration, and a wave of dread washed over him. where were you? why wasn’t there even a text?

he moved through the penthouse, each room colder than the last, trying to find any sign of where you might have gone. this isn’t like you, he thought, his pulse quickening. you wouldn’t just leave without saying anything.

desperation clawed at him as he headed toward the front desk, barely able to keep his voice steady. “did you see my fiancée leave earlier?” he asked, the urgency unmistakable in his tone.

the concierge nodded. “yes, sir. she mentioned she was heading to the byun estate.”

the words hit him like a punch to the gut. the byun estate. his parents’ house. no… she wouldn’t… his thoughts spiraled before he could stop them. what if she’s going there to call it off?

without another thought, he dashed out the door, the weight of his keys in his hand, his steps quick and heavy with panic. the drive felt endless, the world outside the car a blur as his mind raced with one horrifying thought after another. what if she went to his parents’ to tell them she couldn’t go through with this?

his hands tightened on the steering wheel, the grip becoming almost painful. what if she changed her mind? what if after everything—after i let my guard down—she realized this wasn’t what she wanted? he could hear your voice in his head, calm and collected, as if you were preparing for this moment all along. i can’t do this, baekhyun. this marriage, this life with you—it’s not for me.

he swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in his throat. no. no, this can’t be happening. she’s not like that. she wouldn’t do that to me… to us. but the thought kept gnawing at him, tearing through his mind. what if she’s already with my parents, telling them everything i’ve been dreading?

the drive felt like it stretched on forever, each passing second amplifying his fear. i can’t lose her, he thought, his heart pounding in his chest. i wouldn’t survive it. she can’t leave. i have to make her see that this… that i’m worth it. that we’re worth it.

his thoughts kept looping back to that moment, the drunken night just days ago, when everything felt so right. maybe she was just drunk, he thought bitterly. maybe when she sobers up, she’ll realize it was all just a mistake. maybe she’s already realized it was too much too soon. that she never wanted this—never wanted me.

he shook his head, trying to force the thoughts away, but they kept coming, relentless and cold. i should have seen it sooner. she’s too good for me. she deserves someone who isn’t so messed up. someone who doesn’t have this baggage. his grip on the wheel tightened, the tension in his body coiling like a spring. i have to stop her. i have to talk to her. if she’s really at my parents’ place, i have to go there and make her see she’s making a mistake. i’ll do anything to make her stay. anything.

baekhyun’s car screeched to a halt in front of the byun estate, the tires skimming across the gravel as he threw the door open and rushed out without a second thought. his heart pounded in his chest, still racing from the drive over, the fear that had gripped him momentarily lingering like a heavy weight in his stomach.

his eyes scanned the sprawling estate, the large mansion looming in the distance, its windows glowing softly in the fading light of the day. the manicured gardens stretched out before him, the serenity of the place almost mocking his anxiety. his footsteps quickened as he made his way toward the back of the estate, where the garden bloomed under the last remnants of sunlight. he felt a sense of urgency, like he needed to see you. needed to know you were okay.

as he turned the corner, his eyes locked onto a familiar sight—a wooden bench tucked beneath a large willow tree. the same bench you and he had shared when you first met, your laughter filling the air, the weight of your arranged marriage contract hovering over both of you like a dark cloud.

but this time, you sat beside his mother, both of you engaged in a soft conversation, the tranquility of the garden around you both at odds with the storm that had been raging inside baekhyun’s mind just moments ago. he froze for a moment, his chest loosening as relief washed over him. you were here, safe. and his mother, of all people, was with you.

you looked up just then, your eyes catching his from across the garden. your gaze softened as a faint smile touched your lips, and you greeted him warmly. “oh, hey,” you called out, the sound of your voice pulling him from his thoughts. “i remember you telling me how much you’ve wanted to help your mom with the garden but haven’t had the time. so, i decided to come out here and give her a hand…how’d you know i was here?”

baekhyun couldn’t help but smile in return, but there was a flicker of something in his expression—something that still wasn’t quite settled. “concierge,” he replied, his voice still a little shaky. “they told me you came out here.”

he didn’t say a word about the panic that had gripped him just moments ago, nor did he mention the relentless stream of worst-case scenarios that had plagued his mind. his chest still tightened with the ghost of that fear, each breath a reminder of the stress he’d barely managed to keep at bay. the drive from your shared penthouse in the city to the byun estate had always been a tense, traffic-heavy 30 minutes at best.

baekhyun made it in 15.

you tilted your head, a little guilty smile creeping up on your face. “sorry, i left my phone inside the house. i just wanted to help your mom out here in the garden,” you explained, your voice soft and casual.

baekhyun nodded slowly, his expression calm, though it did little to mask the wave of relief washing over him. you were here—here with his mom, safe and sound. not walking away from him. not trying to end the engagement. the thought eased the tension in his shoulders, his posture softening almost imperceptibly. yet, the weight of everything unsaid lingered in the air, heavy and unyielding, filling the quiet spaces between your shared smiles.

“you okay, baek?” you asked, your voice soft, but the question carried an undercurrent of something more. “y’look a little... shaken up. somethin’ happen at work?”

baekhyun hesitated, his mind whirling, torn between the urge to spill everything—the turmoil, the storm of emotions he’d battled on the drive here, the realization that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want this engagement to be the cold, transactional thing he’d always thought it would be. but the words wouldn’t come. not yet.

he forced a laugh, brushing it off as if it were nothing. “huh? oh…no. nothing,” he said, his voice light, but it was a lie, and you knew it. he could see the flicker of doubt in your eyes as you studied him, but to his relief, you didn’t press further.

before either of you could speak again, baekhyun’s mother emerged from the house, a soft smile on her face. “you two free for dinner?” she asked, her tone casual but warm, the invitation hanging in the air.

baekhyun blinked, his mind still spinning, but he quickly recovered. “sure,” he said, his voice betraying none of the tension that had been building inside him.

you echoed the same sentiment, though your voice was a little quieter, more reserved. “yeah, sure,” you agreed, not meeting his gaze as the three of you walked toward the house.

as you all made your way toward the house, baekhyun’s mind was still spinning, lost in thought. dinner passed in a quiet blur, his mother filling the space with stories of her day, her voice light and cheerful. she couldn’t stop talking about how much help you’d been in the garden, even joking that she might prefer you there from now on instead of baekhyun. the flickering candlelight on the table cast soft shadows across everyone’s faces, adding a warm, intimate glow to the scene. but baekhyun couldn’t focus on any of it. his thoughts kept drifting back to that bench, to the strange, unexpected relief that had flooded him when he saw you there, safe and sound, sitting beside his mother.

and you? you couldn’t shake the way baekhyun had looked when he first arrived, the way his eyes had scanned the garden, like he was searching for something—someone. the way he’d paused, almost frozen, when he saw you with his mother.

you swallowed the thought, pushing it down, knowing better than to entertain the idea. no, you told yourself, he doesn’t see me like that. i’m just a part of this arrangement. nothing more.

but as the night wore on, you couldn’t help but wonder what baekhyun was really thinking. what had been so wrong when he arrived? and why did you feel like maybe, just maybe, the whole evening was off-kilter in a way you couldn’t quite explain?

but for now, you buried it, pushing aside the questions that were starting to form in your mind. you had your role to play, just like he had his. this arrangement wasn’t about feelings. you knew that.

the weeks leading up to the wedding flew by in a blur, each day slipping through your fingers faster than the last. things between you and baekhyun were... tense. not in an openly hostile way—no, you were still good friends, still made time for your weekly dinner dates to catch up on each other’s lives. but there was a subtle shift in the air between you, an unspoken tension that neither of you seemed ready to address.

conversations you wanted to have with him—about your feelings, your fears, and everything in between—remained locked away, tucked behind a wall of hesitation. he was so polite, so considerate, his actions speaking louder than words ever could. every day, he brought you lunch without fail, and every vase in the house seemed to overflow with fresh flowers, their petals a vibrant reminder of his quiet devotion. yet, he never explained why he did these things, and you never asked. deep down, you were too afraid of the answer, terrified that it might be nothing more than a courteous gesture—something he did out of obligation, not affection.

but what you didn’t know—what you couldn’t see—was just how deeply you were affecting byun baekhyun. to him, you weren’t just the poised, untouchable princess of the nation’s largest real estate empire. you were his undoing. he never expected you to mean so much, never imagined that he would crave your presence, your laughter, the soft cadence of your voice, the way he did now.

night after sleepless night, he found himself consumed by thoughts of you. wondering if you ever thought of him too, if you liked the flowers, if you looked forward to the lunches he brought you. he worried they might be too much, too obvious, yet couldn’t bring himself to stop. ever since the day you quite literally fell into his arms at the byun estate, you had taken root in his heart, growing deeper with every passing moment. you were all he could think about, the one constant in his mind as the wedding loomed closer, a promise of something he both feared and desperately wanted: you.

the soft hum of conversation fills the air at the rehearsal dinner, a melody of clinking glasses, polite laughter, and the occasional burst of chatter. the room is a picture of understated elegance, bathed in the golden glow of chandeliers and warmed by the aroma of fine wine. you stand at the bar, the edge of your glass cool against your fingers as you sip your drink. the warmth of the crowd surrounds you, yet it does little to ease the faint nervousness coiling in the pit of your stomach. tomorrow is the day—the culmination of everything that has led you here. still, an unshakable weight lingers at the back of your mind, refusing to be ignored.

you’re lost in thought when you feel a presence at your side. instinctively, you turn, and there she is—aya. her smile is wide, perfect, and practiced, a masterclass in effortless poise. she looks stunning, of course. her gown hugs her frame flawlessly, her hair swept into an elegant style, and her makeup is immaculate, enhancing her already striking features. she exudes the kind of beauty that commands attention, but tonight, it feels almost oppressive, as though her glow casts your own into shadow.

“hi there, mrs. byun,” she says, her voice honeyed but with an undertone you can’t quite place—sharp and deliberate, like the edge of a blade hidden beneath silk. “congratulations on tomorrow. you and baekhyun must be thrilled.”

her words are pleasant, but something about the way she says them sends a ripple of unease through you. still, you muster a polite smile, swallowing the knot forming in your throat. “thank you,” you reply, your tone carefully measured as you meet her gaze. “we’re looking forward to it.”

yet even as the words leave your lips, a tension hangs between you, unspoken and unacknowledged, but undeniable all the same.

aya’s smile doesn’t falter, but there’s something unsettling about the glint in her eyes as she leans in, just enough to make the air between you feel charged. “you know,” she murmurs, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone, as if she’s about to share a closely guarded secret, “baekhyun and i... we were together for a long time.” she pauses, her gaze sliding briefly to where baekhyun stands, engrossed in conversation with a group of guests. when her eyes return to you, they’re sharper, like the edge of a blade. “he was always so devoted to his family. so when they arranged this marriage,” she continues, her words pointed, deliberate, “he didn’t have much of a choice, did he?”

your heart stumbles in your chest, confusion and unease twisting together in your stomach. the words feel wrong, their weight designed to settle under your skin and sprout doubt. you take a measured breath, willing yourself to stay composed. “i’m not sure what you’re trying to say, aya,” you respond, your voice steady but laced with a cautious edge.

aya’s lips curl into a small, almost pitying smile, the kind that feels more like a taunt than an expression of sympathy. for a brief moment, her gaze softens, feigning sincerity, as though she’s letting you in on some harsh reality. “oh, sweetie,” she says, shaking her head with a sigh that feels too practiced, her tone syrupy-sweet, “don’t you see? that’s why he ended things with me. it was never about us. it was about his family. about what they wanted. why do you think he was late the first day you two met? he was with me.”

the impact of her words hits you like a slap, leaving a sting that spreads through your chest. your breath hitches, the room closing in on you, walls seeming to press tighter with each passing second. each syllable she utters piles onto the weight of doubt she’s so expertly planting in your mind.

your thoughts race, replaying the memory of that day. baekhyun had been late, his father brushing it off as work. but now, her words weave an unsettling narrative, one that chills you to the bone. could there have been more to his tardiness? had he really been with her? the mere suggestion sends a shiver down your spine, your world tilting as her voice continues to echo, cold and unrelenting.

you struggle to keep your composure, but the unease coiled in your stomach tightens with every moment. aya’s gaze sharpens, her eyes glittering with something like triumph. she knows she’s struck a nerve, and the satisfied curl of her lips only confirms it.

"baekhyun is a good man," she says, her voice laced with honeyed malice. "but he’s always been bound by duty, by what’s expected of him. tomorrow, when you’re standing at that altar, you’ll see—he’s made his choice. but don’t forget, he’ll always be the man who follows orders."

the venom in her words cuts deep, and for a moment, your confidence wavers. you want to retort, to shut her down with a sharp reply, but your tongue feels heavy, your thoughts tangled in doubt and questions you don’t dare voice.

aya leans back, studying you like a predator admiring its prey. her smile grows, syrupy sweet and razor-sharp. "well," she drawls, feigning disinterest as she delivers her final blow, "you might be his bride, but i was his first. and i always will be."

her words linger in the air like poison, and before you can summon a response, she turns and walks away, leaving a suffocating silence in her wake.

you stand frozen, her parting shot reverberating in your mind, sinking deep into your chest. a chill creeps over you, settling into your bones. you try to shake it off, but her words cling stubbornly, wrapping around your thoughts like a shadow that refuses to dissipate.

you don’t doubt her entirely—that’s the worst part. baekhyun has always been driven by duty, just like you. both of you trapped in a web of familial expectations, navigating a path neither of you truly chose.

but lately… hasn’t something shifted between you? there’s a weight between you two now, an unspoken understanding that feels as delicate as it is undeniable. the way his touch lingers when he brushes past you, the stolen glances that speak volumes, the ease with which your lives have intertwined—it’s all there, simmering beneath the surface.

yet, for all the moments that have sparked warmth in your chest, neither of you has dared to name it. the words remain unspoken, locked away behind fear and uncertainty. you haven’t even let yourself truly think about what this could be, too afraid of what it might mean—or worse, what it might not.

then there’s aya’s conversation—sharp, sudden, and cutting through your peace like a thunderclap. her words echo in your mind, relentless and unforgiving, forcing you to question everything. baekhyun. the same baekhyun who had always been known for his flirtatious charm, a man who thrived on the thrill of the chase. you never once thought he would string you along like this—but what if he was?

the possibility coils in your stomach, tight and nauseating. surely, he wouldn’t… right? he couldn’t be the type of man to do that to you. not baekhyun. not the man who brought you lunch every day and filled your home with flowers. and yet, the doubt lingers, growing heavier with each passing second. could he?

the room feels unsteady, spinning around you as you reach out to steady yourself against the bar. your fingers tighten around the cool glass in your hand, grounding you just enough to keep from tipping over. tomorrow is your wedding day. the words sound surreal even in your own mind, a reminder of just how quickly the world feels like it’s slipping away from you.

in the quiet left after aya’s departure, you’re alone with your thoughts—raw, messy, and unraveling. everything you thought you knew, everything you believed about baekhyun, about you together, now hangs in fragile uncertainty.

the soft hum of the refrigerator filled the penthouse, a quiet contrast to the chatter and clinking glasses of the rehearsal dinner only hours ago. the tension from earlier hadn’t dissipated. instead, it seemed to have followed you home, settling like a heavy fog in the air.

you stood in the kitchen, barefoot, wrapped in the soft folds of a robe, the faint glow of the under-cabinet lights casting warm shadows across your figure. the sight of you like this—so closed off, so different from the usual warmth that radiated from you—made baekhyun’s stomach twist. something was wrong; he could feel it.

and then it hit him. the robe. not one of his sweaters, not the familiar fabric he’d come to associate with you over the past few months.

since he’d moved in, baekhyun had made a habit of leaving his sweaters scattered around the penthouse—casually draped over chairs or conveniently left on the couch. part of him hoped, no, yearned, for the day you’d pick one up and claim it as your own. the first time it happened, he’d walked into the living room and stopped dead in his tracks.

you were curled up on the couch, nestled in one of baekhyun’s oversized sweaters, and the sight alone was enough to undo him. the fabric draped over your frame like it was made for you, the sleeves hanging past your fingertips, and the hem just barely brushing the tops of your thighs. it teased him with the smallest hint of the shorts you wore underneath—so short they may as well not have existed.

baekhyun stood frozen in the doorway, his breath hitching as the image seared itself into his brain. he felt his heart lurch, his pulse racing wildly in his chest. you looked so soft, so effortless, and yet so devastatingly alluring all at once. he barely managed to mumble some excuse before disappearing into his room, the ache in his chest quickly migrating lower, leaving him throbbing and desperate for relief.

he leaned back against the closed door, his breaths shallow and uneven, as his hand slid down to press against his growing arousal. the image of you—so cozy, so unknowingly tempting in his sweater—flashed through his mind, and he groaned, his head falling back against the door.

how would your lips feel pressed against his? would they be as soft and addictive as he imagined? fuck, how would you feel around him—tight, warm, and perfect, pulling him in until he couldn’t tell where you ended and he began? would your skin be as silky as it looked, begging for his hands to map every inch?

the thought of you shivering beneath his touch sent a shiver down his own spine. would you sigh his name, barely audible, or moan it like a plea? worse still, did you ever think of him the way he couldn’t stop thinking about you?

did you lie awake at night, your hands wandering across your body, imagining it was him instead? his fingers grazing over your curves, his mouth claiming every inch of you, his name a breathless chant on your lips.

baekhyun’s hand tightened around himself at the thought, his breath hitching as he imagined you lost in your own desire, your thoughts tangled with his. were you doing it now? were you picturing him the same way he was picturing you—completely undone, raw, and desperate for something only the other could give?

his chest heaved, the intensity of it all consuming him as he gave into the fantasy, the line between what was real and imagined blurring in the haze of his need for you.

the questions spun in his head, unrelenting, as he cursed under his breath, fisting his cock as his imagination betrayed him further. the thought of your scent mixing with his, your fingers tangled in his hair, the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him—all of it came crashing down at once, pulling him over the edge far too quickly.

but it wasn’t enough. not nearly enough.

he clenched his jaw, his breathing still ragged, and let the thoughts creep back in. he closed his eyes, imagining the way you might whimper his name, the way your body might arch into his touch, the taste of your lips if he finally gave in.

and so he did it again. and again. every time, it was something different. your laughter muffled against his neck, your nails scraping down his back, the sound of his name spilling from your lips as you unraveled beneath him. each thought left him more undone than the last, and by the time the evening was over, baekhyun knew one thing for certain: he was utterly, irrevocably fucked.

and now, here you are in the kitchen. but not in one of his sweaters. the absence was glaring, a quiet confirmation of the distance that had crept between you. he hated how much it affected him, how much he craved the sight of you wrapped up in something that was his. it wasn’t just about the way you looked—it was what it represented.

fuck, you were perfect. and the thought of losing you? unbearable.

the stem of a half-full wine glass balanced delicately between your fingers. the faint glow of the under-cabinet lights cast a warm hue over you, but your expression was anything but at ease.

baekhyun watched you from the hallway, his own unease growing with every passing second. you had been distant all evening, your laughter at dinner feeling muted, your smiles strained. he had tried to brush it off, assuming it was just pre-wedding jitters, but now, seeing you like this—alone, nursing a drink with your head bowed—it was clear something was wrong.

he approached slowly, the padding of his socked feet barely making a sound against the cool floor. “what’s wrong, sweetheart?” his voice was gentle but laced with concern, breaking the silence like a fragile thread snapping.

you flinched slightly, startled by his presence, before turning to face him. “nothing,” you murmured, your gaze dropping back to the wine.

“don’t do that,” he said softly, taking a step closer. “don’t shut me out. not now. please.”

the vulnerability in his voice made your chest tighten, and before you could stop yourself, the words came tumbling out. “i talked to aya earlier.”

baekhyun stilled, his brows furrowing as a pang of nervousness rippled through him. “you did? what did she say?”

you let out a bitter laugh, swirling the wine in your glass as the weight of the words hung in the air. “she said you’re still the same baekhyun—the flirt, the guy who thrives on the chase. the one who prioritizes duty over his heart. and maybe… maybe you’re just stringing me along, too.”

the silence that followed was suffocating, pressing down on baekhyun’s chest like an unbearable weight. his throat tightened as the words hung in the air, unfinished and unresolved. “and you believe her?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, as though even the smallest sound might shatter the fragile moment between you.

“i don’t know what to believe,” you confessed, the tremor in your voice betraying the storm of doubt crashing through you. “i feel so stupid. i should’ve known better. i should’ve—”

“stop.” his voice cracked, cutting through your self-reproach with a sharpness that made your heart ache. he took a step forward, his eyes locked onto yours, desperate to pull you back from the edge of the abyss. “don’t do this to yourself, sweetheart. don’t let her words get inside your head."

you shook your head, the tears threatening to fall now, your gaze flickering away before finally meeting his. “baekhyun, we promised each other something the first time we met. we said we’d let each other choose. no expectations. no pressure.” your voice faltered, thick with emotion as you sucked in a shaky breath. “so… i’m telling you to choose her.”

the words hit him like a fist to the chest. his world seemed to collapse in an instant, the ground beneath him cracking as his breath caught in his throat. “what?” he whispered, his voice breaking with a mixture of disbelief and pain.

“choose her, baekhyun,” you repeated, your tears falling now, each drop heavier than the last. “if she’s what you really want, if this is all just some game to you, then—”

“no.” the word came out sharp, jagged, and so forceful that it seemed to stop time itself. his eyes blazed with raw intensity as he stepped toward you, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. “don’t say that. don’t you dare say that.”

“baekhyun—”

“i choose you, sweetheart,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion, raw and desperate. “i’ve already chosen you. over and over again, every single day. you’re the only thing i want, the only thing i need.” his hands cupped your face, pulling you closer, forcing you to meet his gaze, his eyes burning with a sincerity that you could feel deep in your bones. “i love you. not her, not anyone else. you. just you.”

the words hit you like a wave, but the storm in your chest only grew stronger. tears spilled down your cheeks as you searched his face, looking for the truth you were afraid to find, but there was still doubt, still that gnawing uncertainty eating away at you.

“baekhyun… you don’t mean that.” your voice cracked, each word tasting like bitterness and fear. “you’re probably saying all of this because of your duty to your family, your obligation to this arranged marriage. you’re just confused. you’ve probably mistaken convenience for love. you’ve spent your whole life following expectations, following orders, and now you’re just trying to convince yourself this is what you truly want.”

the weight of your words hung between you, like a wall that neither of you could break through. his grip on your face tightened, his thumb brushing away the tear that slipped down your cheek, but there was something in his eyes now, something flickering between hurt and frustration.

“no,” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper but fierce. “no, that’s not it. i’m not doing this because of them. i’m doing this because of you, sweetheart.” his forehead rested against yours, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fall away. “you’re not just some obligation. i’ve never felt anything like this before, and i don’t need to convince myself of anything.”

as he spoke, the tight knot of doubt inside you slowly began to unravel. his voice was steady yet raw, every word steeped in sincerity, and his eyes, filled with something so deep and vulnerable, made it harder to hold onto the skepticism. the warmth of his touch, the way he held you as if he never wanted to let go, all of it made you want to believe him. you wanted to be the one he chose, even if the world had already made that choice for him. you wanted to believe that despite everything—the pressure, the expectations—he truly saw you as more than a duty, more than a predetermined path.

but the fear still lingered in your chest. could it really be that simple? could you truly be the one he wanted, or was this just the pull of something he couldn’t escape?

“please,” he whispered, his voice breaking, the raw emotion in his words almost too much to bear. his hands gripped your shoulders, as if holding onto his last shred of hope. “choose me. like i choose you. please.”

the plea shattered your resolve, and the walls you’d so carefully constructed around your heart crumbled at the weight of his words. a choked sob escaped you, the sound raw and unfiltered, as the floodgates you’d held shut for so long finally broke open. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, pressing you against his chest like he was afraid to lose you, his forehead resting gently against yours.

“i love you, sweetheart,” he whispered again, his voice trembling with the depth of his desperation, the intensity of his longing. “ever since you fell into my arms that first day we met. only you. always you.”

the words washed over you, each one sinking into your soul, filling the empty spaces you hadn’t even realized were there. for the first time, you let yourself believe him. you let the fear, the doubt, slip away, and in that moment, all that mattered was the sincerity in his eyes, the weight of his love pressing against you like an anchor.

“i choose you,” you whispered back, your voice shaky but unwavering, the truth finally breaking free. “i love you, too, baekhyun.”

he let out a shuddering breath, his body trembling as if the very air around you both was too heavy to breathe. his grip on you tightened, desperate, as if he were afraid that if he loosened his hold for even a second, you would slip away. “thank you,” he murmured, his lips brushed against your temple, his voice a soft, shaky murmur as he whispered, “thank you.”

he holds you tighter, as if he’s afraid to let go, and when he speaks again, his face inches from yours, you feel the raw intensity of his gaze as it darts across your features, memorizing every detail. it’s like he’s drinking you in, savoring the moment, as if this is a gift he might never receive again.

“i hope you realize you’ve had me from the very first moment i saw you,” he murmurs, his voice low, thick with emotion. his eyes linger on your lips, tracing the shape of them as if they’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen. “i…i love you, sweetheart,” he breathes, his words barely above a whisper, but they resonate deep within you. “everything about you… i knew from the start, you were the one.” his words carry weight, a promise, an undeniable truth, as if the universe had led him straight to you, and he’d known all along that you were meant to be.

“i love you, too, baekhyun,” you whisper, your voice barely audible but full of undeniable truth. “more than i ever thought was possible, more than i knew i could feel.” each word slips from your lips like a secret you've been holding for far too long, a confession so deep, so raw, it shakes you to your very core.

his lips find yours before you can even make sense of what’s happening. the kiss starts soft, hesitant, like he’s afraid of breaking something fragile between you. his lips are warm and inviting, a spark that ignites deep inside you, and for a brief moment, everything goes still.

before you can even gather your thoughts or respond, he pulls back, leaving you breathless, only to press his lips to yours once more, this time with a little more urgency. the kisses are quick, almost frantic, a series of soft, eager pecks that blur together in a whirlwind of sensation. again and again, his lips find yours, each kiss a whisper of something deeper, something you can’t quite put into words, as if he's trying to convey everything he feels with the simplest of touches.

and then again, and again, until you’re lost in the rhythm of it, consumed by the intensity of the moment. each kiss builds upon the last, leaving you dizzy with desire, yet never enough to satiate the growing hunger between you both.

baekhyun’s lips brush softly against your eyelids, a whisper of a kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. "i love you," he breathes, the words almost reverent, as if he's offering a piece of his very soul. he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, the corners of your lips, each kiss a promise, a declaration that sinks deep into your chest. "i love you, i love you, i love you." the words crack and strain, coming from a place that’s raw and vulnerable, tearing from his chest in broken, desperate gasps. it’s unmistakably baekhyun—his voice, that familiar warmth—but there’s something new in it now, something that tugs at the very core of you.

his arms—strong, urgent—wrap around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. when did they even get there? the thought flits across your mind, hazy and distant, but it’s immediately replaced by the feel of him, solid and steady against you. your body pressed so close you can feel his heartbeat syncing with yours.

his hands slide into your hair, fingers threading through it with a tenderness that feels almost too gentle for the intensity of the moment. he tilts your head back, and his lips find yours again—slow, unhurried, like he’s savoring every second, every inch of you. the kiss deepens, and it feels as if time itself has slowed. neither of you wants to break it, to let the moment slip away.

you respond instinctively, your fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling him even closer, your body aching to feel more of him. his lips trace a heated path down your jaw, grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck. each kiss, each touch sends a shock of electricity racing through you, like your body has been waiting, anticipating, for this exact moment. you’ve been holding your breath, just waiting for him to pull you under his spell—and now he has.

without a second thought, you stumble back onto the couch, the plush cushions sinking under your weight as baekhyun follows, a shadow of heat and intent. how the two of you made it from the kitchen to here is a blur, lost in the haze of mounting desire. it doesn’t matter. not when his hands grip your hips with a commanding firmness, steady and unyielding, like he’s anchoring you to him.

your legs settle on either side of his lap, your bodies pressed so closely that the line between you feels blurred. the hard evidence of his growing arousal presses against your clothed core, igniting a fire that spreads through every nerve. the proximity, the shared warmth, the maddening friction—it’s nearly unbearable. your skin tingles, your pulse races in your throat, and your thoughts dissolve into a heady anticipation that leaves you breathless and aching for more.

you can’t think, can’t focus on anything but the way his touch sets your body alight. the air between you both is thick with desire, and you know there’s no turning back now.

“fuck,” he starts, voice raspy and thick with want, “i’ve been dreaming about this since i first seen you in my sweater, y’know? ya look so sexy in my clothes. probably jerked off at least five times that night at the thought of you.”

a soft moan slips from your lips at his confession, and in that moment, he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his mouth pressing against yours with a hunger that matches your own. his hands trail down your back, fingers sliding over the curve of your spine, pulling you closer, closer still, as if he’s trying to merge with you completely. your heart races, the world around you fading into the background as all your senses narrow to him—his warmth, his touch, the way his body fits against yours so perfectly, so desperately. every movement, every touch ignites something deep inside you, a heat that spreads through your veins, overwhelming every thought, every rational part of you. 

nothing else matters—not the day ahead, not the vows you’ll soon make—it’s just him, and the fire between you both.

“s-show me what you’ve been dreaming about, baek,” you gasp, your body trembling as your mind spins in a haze of anticipation. his words ignite something primal inside you—a raw, uncontrollable fire that mirrors the heat building in his touch. the warmth of his chest presses against yours, the erratic rhythm of his breath matching the frantic beat of your heart. you can’t fight it any longer, that longing, that deep hunger that pulses through both of you, an undeniable pull.

“are ya sure?” his voice is low, thick with desire, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt, any trace of hesitation. his gaze burns into you, as if he needs your confirmation to proceed.

you nod, your fingers grasping the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer until there’s no space left between you. “yes, baby, i’m sure.”

with that, he sweeps you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly as if you weigh nothing. you’re helpless in his grasp, consumed by the fire building between you both since the very first time you met. his lips are desperate against yours as he carries you to his bedroom, the world outside fading into nothing. it’s just you and him, and the heat that’s been simmering, waiting to boil over.

he gently lays you down onto his silk covers, and before you can breathe, his lips are on yours again, crashing into you with a hunger that burns through you. his hands move over your body, each touch sending waves of desire crashing over you, making it feel like you’re losing control. your breath hitches as his fingertips trail over your skin, igniting a fire so deep within you, you can no longer ignore it.

baekhyun pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting, the air thick with the weight of the moment. “i hope ya know, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice husky, desperate, “’m never lettin’ you go.”

you smile, your lips curling into something both playful and full of longing. “wouldn’t want ya to,” you murmur before pulling him back in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that consumes everything around you.

the air between you and baekhyun crackles with electricity as his lips find yours again. there’s no hesitation this time, just the desperate hunger of two people who have waited long enough. his kiss is tender yet demanding, a perfect rhythm that matches the frantic beat of your heart. you sink into it, melting against him as if your bodies were always meant to fit together this way. the way your lips move in sync, effortlessly, like a dance neither of you has ever learned but somehow both know.

each kiss feels like a promise, a pledge of everything that’s been building between you. he pulls you closer, the warmth of his body wrapping around you like a suffocating embrace, and you respond in kind, your hands reaching to tug at his shirt. the fabric slides off his shoulders, revealing the smoothness of his skin, the muscles that flex with every movement, and you can’t help but trace your fingers over him, exploring, memorizing.

baekhyun’s hands find their way to your robe, fingers teasing the skin just above your waist before he tugs it off, his lips never leaving yours, as if this moment—the connection, the heat, the growing need—is the only thing that matters. the fabric gives way, sliding off your body with ease, and you feel exposed, vulnerable, but somehow, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

his hands move to your back, unclasping your bra with practiced ease, and you feel the rush of cool air against your skin as it falls away. the vulnerability stirs something deep inside you, but it’s not fear—it’s desire, the kind of desire that has been simmering between you both for far too long. baekhyun’s touch is reverent as his hands slide over you, exploring the curves of your body like he’s memorizing every inch, every contour. his lips break away from yours just for a moment, and you find yourself gasping for air, your chest rising and falling with the frantic rhythm of your heartbeat.

“god, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, his voice raw and filled with awe. but there’s no time to respond, because his lips are back on yours in an instant. you’re left in nothing but your underwear, and his gaze traces over your body like a hungry fire, as if he’s trying to commit every detail to memory.

the tension between you both is unbearable, but you need this—need him, all of him. his hands move to your thighs, sliding your underwear off with slow, deliberate care, his eyes never leaving yours. and when your bodies are finally bare before each other, the world outside disappears completely. 

baekhyun’s lips meet yours again, this time with a rawness, a desperation that matches the intensity of your own. the kiss is a perfect dance, one that neither of you leads but somehow both of you follow, giving in to the rhythm of each other’s breath, each other’s touch. his hands caress your skin, the heat between you growing with every inch, every second that passes. 

his gaze locks with yours, a look of intent and hunger in his eyes, and you feel your breath hitch in your chest. his hands slide down your legs slowly, deliberately, as if savoring every inch of your skin. he kisses you once more, softly, lingering against your lips, before trailing down your jaw, your neck, and lower still, leaving a trail of hot, open mouthed kisses that leave you shivering with anticipation.

when he reaches your thighs, his hands gently part your legs, the touch so tender it sends a wave of heat through your entire body. his lips graze the skin of your inner thigh, warm and soft, and you gasp at the contrast of his gentle kiss against the intensity of the moment. he doesn’t rush; he takes his time, savoring the moment, as if he’s memorizing the feeling of you beneath him, so close, yet just out of reach.

each kiss is slow, deliberate, a soft, wet press of his lips that leaves a trail of warmth in its wake. he moves lower, kissing along the sensitive skin, each touch sparking a shudder that runs through your body. his breath is warm against your skin, mingling with the subtle scent of desire that hangs between you. baekhyun’s lips brush the sensitive area just below your hip, and you can’t help but squirm under the sensation, your body instinctively responding to the way he’s mapping you out, with gentle, teasing touches.

his kisses are adoring, like each one is a silent promise to worship you, to love you completely. his hands gently press against the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer as he plants soft, wet kisses closer to the center of you. the heat of his mouth against your skin makes your pulse quicken, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to continue. he doesn’t rush, though, drawing out each moment until you feel like you might explode with anticipation, your body aching for him to go further, to lose himself in you.

you can't help the frustration that builds inside you as baekhyun continues his teasing, his lips hovering just out of reach, his touch soft but never quite enough. your patience is wearing thin, and the heat in your body makes it hard to think clearly.

“baek…” you whisper, voice thick with need, your breath shaky as you reach out, your fingers trembling as they brush against his chest. “stop bein’ a tease.”

his eyes gleam with mischief, a slow smile spreading across his face as he leans in closer, brushing his lips against yours, just barely, and you feel your pulse spike in response.

“what’s the matter, sweetheart?” baekhyun murmurs, his voice low, teasing, the words slipping from his lips like silk, sending a shiver down your spine. he inches closer, his gaze locked on yours, and you can feel the playful tension crackling in the air. “don’t ya like the way i’m takin’ my time?”

your breath catches in your throat as you bite your lip, the words heavy with desire. “y’know i need m-more,” you pout, your voice soft but unmistakable, your eyes locking onto his with a pleading intensity. “please, baek.”

his smile widens, a flash of something deeper crossing his face—something darker, possessive—his eyes never leaving yours. there’s a glint of knowing amusement in his gaze, and his next words are laced with quiet hunger. “you want more, angel?”

you nod, your chest rising and falling rapidly, each breath shaky with the heat of longing. your body trembles beneath the weight of his gaze, every inch of you alive with need, aching for him.

baekhyun chuckles softly, the sound rich and thick with desire. “whatever my princess wants, she gets,” he murmurs, his voice a low promise that sends a wave of anticipation crashing through you. then, with deliberate slowness, he presses his lips to your core.

one taste of your sweetness, your core pressed against his lips, and baekhyun couldn't fathom pulling away. his tongue glides in long, slow strokes, savoring the tender, swollen folds of your most intimate part, the wetness from your heat pooling in the most sinful way. each lick is languid, deliberate, as if he's trying to drink you in completely, unable to resist the intoxicating flavor that’s all you.

the sensation of you on his tongue has him tugging desperately at the tent in his pants, a rhythm to match the movement of his mouth as he rubs himself with a frantic urgency.

his tastebuds graze the very edges of your trembling skin, teasing circles around the delicate, slick folds, his tongue tracing every inch of your inner thighs as they quiver beneath him, drenched with your desire.

“b-baek,” you moan, the sound so low, drawn out, each breath coming out in a throaty gasp. the sound of your pleasure stirs something wild in him, his blood rushing, pooling painfully in his aching cock. “fuck—just like that.”

your gaze locks with his, eyes glazed and heavy, and he feels like he might collapse. a groan escapes him, his body pressing into yours as he moans against your warmth. “tell me—fuck, tell me what you want, sweetheart. anything.” your body arches instinctively toward him, craving his touch as he teases between your folds, barely brushing against the sensitive bud of your clit. “everything. anything for you.”

“you,” you whisper, your voice trembling as the overwhelming pleasure from his mouth consumes you. every deliberate stroke of his tongue feels like fire, igniting every nerve, and you can already feel yourself unraveling under his touch. he devours you like a man who has known nothing but hunger, each movement more desperate than the last. “want you,” you manage between gasps, your words spilling out like a confession. “only you. only ever you.”

with that, his mouth opens wider, and you slide effortlessly over him, your thighs straddling his face. so close. so messy. his tongue moves with determined force, sliding from the very base of your pussy up to your quivering entrance.

“fuck—” you whine, your hips grinding up against his mouth as he wraps his lips around your clit, dragging his tongue in heated, syrupy circles. it's not gentle, but it's exactly what you need. “don’t—don’t stop, feels too good—”

you aren’t sure if he hears you, hell, you aren’t sure if baekhyun’s even breathing at this point.

“fuck- fuck fuck fuck— baek!” you're slurring your words, breathless and frantic, hands gripping his head as you ride out your high, soaking baekhyun's pretty, pretty face. and he lets you—fuck, he lets you. “shit, feel so good—m’cumming-”

baekhyun is relentless, his mouth and tongue moving in perfect sync, keeping you on the edge as you ride out your high. every flick, every suck draws out more, leaving you trembling in his grip. the overstimulation makes you gasp, a sharp jolt of sensitivity racing through you. you push his head away, breath ragged, as he presses one final, wet kiss against your trembling core.

your breath is still uneven, chest rising and falling with each shaky inhale as you slowly come down from your high. he crawls back up to you, his presence overwhelming, and when he leans down to kiss you again, it feels like he's stealing the very air from your lungs. the taste of you on his lips sends a shock through your body, making your pulse race. for a moment, it feels like you're on the edge again, the sensation so intense that you wonder if you might just lose yourself all over again from the sheer intimacy of the kiss.

as his lips press against yours, you feel the undeniable hardness of his desire, straining against you through the thin fabric of his underwear. the sensation sends a rush of warmth through your body, and before you can stop yourself, a surge of boldness drives you to pull back from the kiss. with a quick motion, you slide your hand down, palming him through the soft fabric of his boxer briefs, earning a soft, breathy moan from him that sends a rush of heat straight to your core. the sound is pure music to your ears.

in one swift motion, you pull the fabric down, freeing him, the air between you thick with anticipation. your gaze drinks in every inch of him, from the long, thick length of his erection to the angry, rosy tip that leaks a steady stream of precum. the slick sheen of it catches the light, making your breath hitch in your throat. he’s impossibly large, and for a moment, you feel a mixture of longing and uncertainty deep in your chest. your thighs instinctively press together, the need building within you, even as you try to steady your racing heart. so impossibly beautiful, even like this.

“you're... bigger than i imagined, baek,” you murmur, almost to yourself, but the words escape anyway.

the moment the words slip from your lips, his dark smirk reappears, twisting his features with that signature confidence you've always recognized. “you imagined me?” his voice is soft, carrying an edge of something delicate that catches you off guard. but within seconds, the tone shifts, his words turning teasing as he adds, "who knew my little fiancée was such a perv?"

it hits you like a wave, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks. for a split second, you feel a rush of shyness under his gaze. baekhyun notices the change instantly, his sharp eyes tracking every subtle shift in your demeanor, the flush of embarrassment practically radiating off you.

“aww, don't get shy on me now, princess,” he murmurs, his voice thick and husky as his fingers dig into your hips, possessiveness seeping through his touch, sending a shiver of excitement through you. “i've thought about this—how perfect you'd feel.” the weight of his words hangs in the air as he slowly pushes inside you, his length stretching you in a way that sends raw waves of pleasure coursing through your body. “imagined how tight and warm you'd be around me,” he groans, his breath heavy as he fills you completely. “and fuck, it’s better than anything i’d ever imagine.”

you gasp, struggling to adjust to his size, the sensation of him filling you overwhelming in the most intoxicating way. "y'feel s-so good, baek," you murmur, your body already aching for more, every inch of you burning with a craving so deep it makes your chest tighten. “w-want more. wanna be filled with you.”

he pulls out completely, a low, wicked chuckle escaping baekhyun as he hears the frustrated whine you let out in his absence, the tension building in your muscles as your legs tighten around his lean waist. his movements are slow and deliberate, teasing you as he presses his reddened, swollen tip directly against the peak of your sensitive clit, each SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! of the contact sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “just look at how drenched you are,” he murmurs, voice thick with both amusement and desire.

“baek—” your voice cracks, a honeyed, drawn-out whine slipping from your lips, shaky and desperate, making him twitch against you. the sound drives him wild, and you squirm under him, the sensation of his precum dripping in hot, sticky streams over your already-soaked folds making you burn with need. “won’t you just put it in alre—ah!”

he doesn’t make it easy, though. baekhyun is cruel in his teasing, easing just the curve of his fat tip past your gummy entrance. the stretch has your complaints dissolving into the sweetest whine he’s ever heard, a sound that seems to echo straight through him.

“hah—there we go,” he grits out, his voice a breathless mix of triumph and relief. his long fingers slide from gripping his thick shaft to grasping at your splayed-out thighs, spreading you wider for him. he makes you do all the work, though, your hips shifting desperately against the silken sheets to take him deeper. “ohhh yeah—oh my god, there we fuckin’ go—”

when your walls clamp down around him unexpectedly, it tears a raw, guttural groan from his throat. his head falls back, neck taut as baritone moans ripple from his chest. “yeah—ya were holding out on me, weren’t ya?” he breathes, a cocky grin splitting his flushed face. “didn’t know it could feel this good. feels like fuckin’ heaven, angel.”

his lips descend in a heady, heated kiss, one that’s more teeth and tongue than finesse, as he pants against your mouth, “could fuck this pretty pussy forever—” he drags his lips to your jaw, his voice dipping lower, “—could fuck a baby into ya.”

it feels like your pussy is utterly helpless, stretched wide around him, clinging desperately to every ridge and vein of his cock. each thrust presses that slight upward curve perfectly against the spongy depths of your core, spearing into your cervix like it was made to reach you. every drag and push paints slick, glossy strokes across your g-spot, wringing out wave after wave of bliss that leaves you trembling.

you were finally, finally being fucked by him.

and it’s overwhelming—maddening in the best way.

“s-shit.” his eyes lock on your utterly wrecked expression, pupils blown wide with desire. he's mesmerized for a moment, glancing down stupidly to see how perfectly you're taking him, even as he feels himself teetering on the edge. his hips falter, stilling for just a second, and you let out a desperate whine.

“baby, why’d ya stop?” you whimper, your hips instinctively shifting against his, craving the friction that was so close to undoing you. “was s’close.”

“fuck,” he groans, his voice tight and trembling, every word slipping out like a plea tangled in desperation. “fuck, fuck, fuck—hah— stop movin’ your fuckin’ hips!” the rough snarl of his words is nearly lost beneath the ragged sound of his breathing. but it’s no use. the way your body clings to him drives him over the edge, and with one final, forceful thrust, he lets go.

his release hits you in hot, thick waves, filling you as his climax pulses through him, painting your walls white with every shuddering beat of his release. the air is thick with heat and need, and yet he doesn’t stop. his movements grow harder, rougher, as if trying to wring out every last shred of pleasure. he’s relentless, his hips pounding into you with a fervor that leaves you breathless, completely at his mercy.

he's hitting that spot—that spot—over and over, and your vision whites out when the pleasure crests. your release crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body tightening around him as you scream his name, the sound filling the room and tangling with the slick, sinful rhythm of your bodies.

finally, he collapses against you, his sticky skin pressing into yours, the only sound left in the room your shared ragged breaths. it’s a fragile, perfect moment as he buries his face in your neck, pressing lazy, reverent kisses against your damp skin. “i love you,” he murmurs between kisses, soft and breathless, the words spilling from his lips like a mantra. “i love you, i love you.” but before you can fully catch your breath, you feel him stirring again, hardening inside you. your eyes widen in disbelief, exhaustion and arousal battling for dominance. "again, baek? so soon?"

he grins, that signature wicked grin that always sends your stomach into a dizzying flip. “can’t help it, angel. you’re irresistible,” he murmurs before pulling you into a searing kiss that leaves no room for thought, only submission as you melt into him completely.

“you do realize—” his hands slide beneath your thighs with ease, lifting and positioning your boneless legs onto his broad shoulders. the shift presses you deeper into the mattress, folding your body until it feels like you belong to him entirely. his eyes darken, gleaming with an intensity that steals your breath, his voice dipping into a low, predatory growl. “—that i was dead serious ‘bout fuckin’ a baby into ya, right, sweetheart? ima fill ya up so good, princess. want ya walkin’ down the aisle tomorrow with my cum drippin’ down your leg.”

the thought barely registers before reality sets in—you can only hope your makeup team tomorrow is prepared for the aftermath. the lack of sleep will leave dark circles under your eyes, and the blooming hickeys he’s sure to scatter across your skin will be impossible to miss. you already know rest isn’t in the cards tonight. not with the way his gaze burns into you, smoldering with promises that will keep you awake until the first light of dawn.

the soft light of morning filters through the curtains, casting a golden glow on the room. you wake slowly, the warmth of baekhyun's body pressed against yours, your limbs tangled together from the night. it’s the day of your wedding, but in this moment, nothing feels more real than the feeling of his chest rising and falling against yours. the scent of him, warm and intoxicating, fills your senses, and when he shifts slightly, his lips brush gently against yours in a soft, slow kiss.

“today’s the day, mrs. byun,” he murmurs, his voice low and raspy from sleep. there’s something undeniably sexy about it, the gravel in his tone making your heart race. it takes everything in you not to give in to the desire curling through your veins, the urge to pull him closer, to turn this moment into something far more than just a kiss.

but before you can, he grins, the playful gleam in his eyes making your breath catch. “but first, breakfast,” he says, voice teasing as he lifts himself from you and vanishes beneath the covers, his movements swift and confident.

before you can process what’s happening, his lips are on your thighs, warm and soft, kissing his way up toward you in slow, deliberate movements. the sensation sends a shiver through your body, making it impossible to focus on anything other than the heat of his touch. he doesn’t rush, taking his time, savoring each kiss as if he’s drawing out every moment.

you can hardly breathe, the mix of anticipation and pleasure making your pulse quicken. your wedding day is unfolding in ways you hadn’t imagined, and it feels impossible to think of anything else but the man beside you, lost in the heat of the moment.

you glance at the clock on the wall, your voice breathless as you say, “you’ve got twenty minutes until hair and makeup get here.”

but before you can even finish your sentence, he trails a slow, deliberate lick up your wet heat, and you gasp, your body tensing at the sudden contact.

"how many times do you think you can cum for me in twenty minutes?" he asks, his voice laced with dark amusement, that wicked smile of his making your heart skip a beat. it's the kind of smile that promises nothing good—and you know it's going to be the death of you.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ aaahhh ngl this was pretty challenging for me to write :') iykyk i always portray baekhyun as a clingy lil simp from the start, but this time he wasn’t like that until much later omg. but writing this was sm fun!!!! i hope i did your request justice, nonnie babie <3 i hope u all enjoyed this one 💓💖💞💗💞💖💓💖💞💗 mwah mwah mwaaahhh love u guys !!!! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 . 

[starkwlkr]

Hi!! Can we have headcanons for all of the Jackman babies?

of course you can lovely anon 😘🫶🏼

alex

so he’s the firstborn and it’s canon that he was born in the year 2000 simply because i am so bad with dates (plus that’s the year my sister was born so it’s easy for me to remember)

he once told a girl at his school that his dad was wolverine to try to impress her and she didn’t believe him so he made hugh pick him up from school for a week even though he had his own car

he’s a big fan of horror movies, his favorite horror directors are mike flanagan and wes craven

he enjoys musicals every now and then though he’ll never admit it to anyone

him and reese are only two years apart so they attended school together for a few years. instead of ignoring reese, they would sit together at lunch and even had a few classes together.

he doesn’t go into acting like people expected him to. he goes to college and studies architecture (thank you to the anon that suggested this!!)

reese

my sweet middle child 🫶🏼

so he was very quiet and awkward in high school and his friend group was small. the only time he really talked was if he was with his friends/alex or if he was called on to answer a question

during parents teacher conferences, his teachers told you and hugh that the only complaint they had about reese was that he was too quiet and needed to participate. of course you got mad because if reese doesn’t want to participate then he doesn’t need to!!

dr. pepper lover i said what i said

his school didn’t have a film club so he made one with his friends and the first film they watched was chicago because why wouldn’t he want to show off how talented his mom is?? bonus: you attend one of their gatherings and talk about the production of the movie ☺️

btw if you didn’t read the other fic where i mentioned chicago the musical, it’s canon that marvel actress!reader plays roxie <3

he’s a big momma’s boy

his dream is to be a director and make a movie with you and hugh as the leads but he’s scared that the media is going to say that he only got the opportunity because he’s a nepo baby

his idols are marilyn monroe and his mom ❤️

his comfort movie is the muppets movie

olivia

olivia my queen 🫶🏼 so she is not afraid to tell it like it is

she’s close in age to dafne keen so they become best friends on the set of logan and have been ever since <3 of course dafne ended up becoming an honorary member of the jackman family

she follows in her parents’ footsteps and becomes an actress. she really doesn’t care if people call her a nepo baby, she knows she is 💅🏼

her first role was an A24 movie (of your choice) and she was going press interviews when deadpool & wolverine came out so she was asked a lot about the movie, mostly if she was in it

she was the valedictorian of her graduating class and included logan’s last words in her speech: “i’ve watched my brother, cousins and friends graduate and now it’s my turn. so this is what it feels like.”

have y’all seen the pic of romy mars, sofia coppola’s daughter, on the set of priscilla and jacob elordi is bringing her cake and singing happy birthday to her?? well olivia took some inspiration from romy and was on set of the new avengers movie that marvel actress!reader is directing and pedro pascal ended up being her cake and singing happy birthday to her 🤭

here’s the pic lol

ok that’s all for now <3 thanks for sticking around!! love y’all ☺️😘

@kellyxo1 @barnes70stark @flyestvenustrap @ru-kru @evasmlp

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

Mockingbird

Synopsis: Charles Leclerc as always been a family man, so it makes perfect sense to everyone when he chooses to adopt a child. Specifically, you.

adopted monegasque daughter reader x charles leclerc

A/N: for this one; charles will adopt y/n when he’s 28, for the most part, the grid will be the same as the 2023, everyone’s just older, and because charles’ relationships are unpredictable, he chooses to adopt and raise y/n mostly on his own.

. okay so

. again, charles has always wanted a family

. small, big, when he’s young, when he’s old

. doesn’t care, just wants a family

. specifically, a child

. but after many not-so serious and semi-serious relationships

. he realizes that he’ll have to wait a few years until he can have one of his own

. unless

. “what if I just adopt a child?”

. “I won’t have to wait any longer, I can just have one and raise them on my own terms”

. charles decides he likes this idea very much

. so he thinks it over and talks about it with his own family

. then after many conversations with his mother

. he visits a few adoption centers

. talks to a lot of social workers and child protective service workers

. finds one wide-eyed, adorable, 3 year old girl

. and falls absolutely in love

. the directors of the adoption center tell him all about you

. your birth parents, your story, your situation

. his heart was set

. the adoption process takes a few months

. so charles take that time to get ready for you

. but nothing could prepare him for the day the adoption agency called and told him you were his

. he swears it was the best day of his life

. he was beaming the entire drive to the adoption center with pascale

. had tears in his eyes when he finally got to hold you in his arms

. so then

. charles leclerc is a father

. the first two years of living with charles was definitely an experience

. you don’t remember much but he tells you how chaotic ages 3-5 were

. about how he basically lived with his mother in his childhood home for those years so she could help him take care of her granddaughter

. how much he loved getting to know you

. finding your favorite foods, toys, shows, ect

. how he loved teaching you his languages

. (he raises you in french, italian, and english, particularly in that order)

. how he cried when he dropped you off for day care and kindergarten the first time

. how he loved helping you know him

. like playing songs on his piano for you

. teaching you how to play different sports

. or watching old formula 1 races together

. speaking of formula 1

. you were raised racing

. charles bought you your first kart when you were six

. brought you to your first f1 race when you were five

. actually, charles had a love-hate relationship with bringing you to races with him during the early years of having you

. because on one hand

. there’s thousands of cameras around during a race weekend, and charles doesn’t want you televised 24/7

. and there’s also hundreds of people around him while he’s in the paddock, and he wants none of them near you

. it’s also hard to give you his full attention during race weekends

. which is something he always wants to do

. so he’s against the idea at first

. but on the other hand

. he can’t bear being apart from you for a few hours, nonetheless a few days or sometimes weeks

. and he knows you don’t really understand what’s going on, only that your dad puts on a red suit and drives a very fast car for a hour and half

. but he loves coming back to the garage to see you sitting with andrea, clad in ferrari merch and big headphones with a happy grin on your face

. it cheers him up no matter what happened on track

. and he knows he has lots of people willing to look out for you while he’s busy

. because you instantly became beloved by the grid the moment charles walked in with you in his arms

. who’s carlos sainz and pierre gasly?

. you only know uncle carlo and uncle pear

. uncle lew, uncle max, the list goes on

. although charles never lets you out of the ferrari garage

. his closest friends come in and visit you often

. sometimes because your dad asked, sometimes just because they want to

. also, speaking of max

. you met penelope during the winter break when you were five

. and even though she’s three years older than you

. she instantly became like your older sister

. and suddenly charles and max hang out a lot more often for the sake of their daughters

. anyway, the early years of living with charles were still chaotic, but he says that those years contain some of his favorite memories

. he loved watching you grow up

. sending you to primary school

. watching you kart on the same track he drove on when he was your age

. spending many afternoons at his mother’s house with his brothers

. (arthur and lorenzo are the best uncles by the way)

. watching you discover your own passions, whether that be racing or not

. traveling around the world with you, both to race and to explore

. watching you become independent, speaking up for yourself and what you believe in

. it all goes by very fast for charles

. and suddenly you’re a teenager

. by now charles is close to/about to retire

. so you don’t spend that much time in the paddock as a teenager

. but the times that you do are very fun

. instead of staying in charles’s team garage, you explore the paddock with penelope, who’s still an older sister to you

. you befriend all the newer drivers

. and hang out with whichever drivers are left from the grid when you first got adopted

. however, the drivers that charles has been friends with and have retired by now

. lewis, daniel, carlos, pierre, max, george, alex, lando

. you’ve formed your own big family with them and their kids

. because almost all of you live in monaco, you see each other often

. you guys go on vacations together when you don’t have school

. holidays on private beaches and expensive yachts

. or at booked-out ski resorts and mountain lodges

. you and penelope are the oldest, and are mostly in charge of looking after the youngest kids

. but you don’t mind, you love them

. it’s your own little f1 community

. but this is barely the beginning of having charles as a father

. he loves embarrassing you, for one

. at first glance, it might seem cool to have your dad come pick you up from school in a ferrari

. until he gets out in strangely pattered pants and a shirt that will never match

. “papa, do you not have anything else in your closet?”

. “what do you mean? you don’t like?”

. he says it keeps you humble

. you say he should just stay in the car next time

. charles does make sure you’re humble and grateful for everything you have

. but he doesn’t help by spoiling you to death

. you like something from the new gucci collection? it’s yours

. new dior bracelet you said is pretty? your birthday gift

. you think aruba looks nice? where do you think you two spend your next summer vacation

. “papa, when I said I wanted a break from school, I didn’t mean in italy”

. “but mon petit soleil, you are relaxed now, non? you’ll be back by monday, don’t worry”

. whether it be italy or not, wherever you go, charles tries to keep you as safe as possible

. he’s always been cautious of fans and paparazzi around you, no matter how old you are

. making sure you’re holding on to him when a crowd comes out from no where and gets too close for comfort

. keeping you by his side when there’s paparazzi around

. and doing whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe and happy at home/school/in the paddock

. anyway

. I could go on and on about being charles’ daughter

. but the point is that he loves you

. you’re y/n jules leclerc

. his petit soleil

. he couldn’t imagine his life without you

[hwayangyeon]

i have an idea for chapter 2 of actor hee x actress y/n. Like after the stuff in the bathroom, they are back to the special party later n there’s another actress approaching and doing some intimate hessture with him, and ofc our rizzseung will flirt back with her (just for fun). Afterwards y/n will be upset and try to get him back(maybe by some suggestive ways). Then he will pull u in his car and punish u for being needy in public (party). Eventually they date offically, no more situationship. That’s my idea but u can write in ur own plot and i still be your sustainable supporter 🫶🏻 sorry for any errors in grammar or vocab cuz english is not my mother language

thank you so much for your ask, sunshine <3 i actually got two requeste for the second part and i love both ideas so i decided to squeeze both of them here. also your english is amazing, don't worry <3

so combining your ask, and one of my commenters' request about needy heeseung knocking on y/n's door, here we have:

pt. 2 of this fic (i recommend reading it first) // pt.3 here

NSFW ex bf actor heeseung x actress reader // heeseung hasn't fucked you enough so he's fucking you more (during met gala) // teasing, slightly rough car sex -> needy heeseung, oral sex m!receiving // 2.1k words sorry

after you kicked heeseung out of the restroom, you could clean yourself up and make yourself not look like you just got railed in a public space. thankfully that was also the last time you saw him, the rest of the gala was peaceful.

because some of the photographers and interviewers leaving, it was easier to get back to the hotel, change clothes, retouch the makeup (especially the lipstick that heeseung smudged), and get ready for the after-party.

you allowed yourself to get one drink. usually, you try to stay as sober as possible during this kind of event, it's easier to spot the paparazzis and avoid scandals, you really did not want to go through another dating scandal this year too.

on your way to order a martini, you noticed heeseung sitting at the bar. great. you were too naive to think that you won't see him again today.

but wait, he's not sitting alone, there's a woman beside him.

"what the fuck?" you said under your breath while watching how he looks her up and down with his bambi eyes, giving her the sweetest smile.

you're not jealous, but you did not risk getting caught in that bathroom for him to hit on another girl now.

fine, two actors can play this role.

you walked to the left side of the bar to find a perfect spot where heeseung can see you flirting with the guy who has already had too much to drink.

"hey," you brushed his thigh, causing him to wake up from his drunken sleep immediately.

"hey there, beautiful," you did not know him, nor was he your type but he'll do for your get back at heeseung plan.

"you're so funny," you were saying whatever, the actual play was moving your hair away from your exposed cleavage and leaning slightly towards him, laughing as if he just told you the funniest joke on earth.

it worked. heeseung was now shooting darts with his eyes in your direction, missing the bartender's head by an inch.

it took him a second to leave the girl and appear next to you, firmly grab your hand and drag you out of the room. he guided both of you to the parking lot. it was a little cool outside, so he put his arm around you, still dragging you somewhere, still not saying anything.

he's not really the jealous type, he always gets what he wants, but he did not make you moan his name a few hours ago for you to laugh at another man's jokes.

you blindly followed him into his manager's car and he closed the door behind you.

"what the fuck, y/n?"

"what? did i interrupt your conversation with the blonde?" you were happy with how well your plan went.

"she's a director's daughter, i was trying to-"

"you don't have to fuck a director's daughter to get a role, heeseung."

"you're the only one i’m fucking tonight," he smirked. come on, y/n, why are you heating up from that cheesy text?

"i'm leaving," you wanted to go but he pushed you back onto the car seats.

the cold leather touched your skin and the freezing feeling made you arch your back, which he took advantage of and put his arm under it, sliding you down so your crotch met his knee. he moved it even closer when bending down to you.

"i thought i fucked you enough already, but you're still so needy," he started sucking on your neck, "you could've just said so, i can go another round."

"fuck. hee, don't, please-"

"what?" he bit your skin, "already having trouble forming sentences? i haven't even taken my dick out yet."

"no hickeys, please," it will be so hard to cover these in the morning.

"too late." he laughed into your ear softly, "i should have marked you earlier."

fuck. you were trying so hard not to grind on his leg, but he was too close and the feeling on your core felt too good too.

his lips were devouring your neck, jaw, chin as if he couldn't get enough of you. only then you noticed his scent. his perfumes... smelled like the ones you bought for him back in high school.

"i see you're enjoying yourself," he stopped kissing you and you both looked at the wet spot you left on his thigh. fuck, how embarrassing, "but you weren't a good girl, y/n."

he grabbed your jaw aggressively, almost using it as support to lift himself up. he loved touching your face, how soft your skin felt under his hands, how red your cheeks got if his hold was too strong.

"and bad girls aren't treated well," he started unzipping his pants.

he put his two fingers into your mouth, "wanted to say something?"

no matter how much experience you've got as an actress, no role could've taught you to lie that you didn't miss this side of him. there was no point in trying to kill his ego.

you moved your head to the side, trying to talk despite the obstacles, "please, fuck me."

oh you had no idea how long he's waited to hear that. so much blood rushed into his dick, and you wouldn't have seen the shining precum drop from it if it weren't for that street lamp next to the vehicle.

he took off your panties quickly, not caring that he almost made you fall off the seats, and pushed his dick inside you, granting himself that beautiful moan he kept thinking about while talking with that blonde girl.

his thrusts so deep and rough, he made it feel like a punishment. but was it a punishment if you wanted to get it?

he leaned towards you once again, grabbing your neck with one hand and covering the top of your head with another so you don't bump it on the car's door whenever he slams you with his dick.

no one could manhandle you as he does, he knows exactly how hard he has to choke you for you to see stars and still feel him stretch you out.

your nails have been scratching his back for some time now, let's hope he doesn't have to record any shirtless scenes anytime soon.

you could feel that familiar knot in your abdomen, your climax was close.

"do you hear that clicking?" he says almost out of breath, "are you kicking something with your heels?"

"what? no," you close your eyes from the pleasure, "are you?"

he gives you a few more thrusts, then stops suddenly without any warning and looks behind himself, "shit!"

"what?" you asked calmly, still riding off the feeling.

"the paparazzi," he pushed down your dress, helped your unaware self sit up, and jumped to the driver's seat to start the engine.

"the paparazzi..?" he fucked you dumb, "fuck, heeseung!" you tried to cover yourself with the jacket he had left you, "how could you not check for them?!"

"i did!" he drove out of the parking lot and tried to find the second entry to the hotel.

thankfully the windows of the car were tinted, but if anyone saw the two of you get inside the car, they would get the idea of what was happening there.

he dropped you off at the back entrance of the hotel, mouthed a quiet "sorry," and went to park the car somewhere else.

fucking lee heeseung.

———

it was maybe two hours later when you heard knocking on your hotel room's door. you were in the middle of doing your skincare, trying not to lose your mind thinking about what happened before.

"y/n, i'm sorry," he knocked again.

"go away, heeseung," you yelled from the bathroom while applying moisturizer.

"please, let me in," he's not gonna let you rest if you don't open that goddamn door.

the second you unlocked it, he opened it and got inside.

"i didn't set that up, y/n," you could see that he was feeling guilty, even though it probably wasn't his fault.

fuck, you didn't want any scandals.

"it's... okay," you went to sit on your bed, he followed you and kneeled in front of you.

he looked up at you with his beautiful doe eyes, lips in a small pout and you couldn't resist but touch his hair, revealing his forehead.

"for the record, i think you'd look stunning in those pho-"

"oh fuck you, heeseung," you wanted to stand up but he grabbed your legs, making you sit back down.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he kissed the inner side of your thigh, and wanted to go higher but you moved back on the bed, making space for him to go after you.

he followed you like a cat and laid down between your legs. he didn't break eye contact for a second. he's looking at you in the sweetest way possible as if he didn't fuck the shit out of you twice that day already. shit, it's making you blush.

he easily read your mind because he smirked and went back to kissing your thighs.

"isn't this the best met gala you've been to?" he asked.

"it might be."

"is it because of me?"

"no, the food's better than last year. maybe they hired a new chef."

he shot his head up, his look way different than the one he was giving you a second ago.

he wanted to sit up but you grabbed his chin, "don't act like you didn't come here because you have blue balls," making him take your place and now you were sitting between his legs.

"i needed to see you," he put his hand on your head.

"yeah, i can tell," you commented the tent in his pants.

you pulled them down enough for his dick to jump out. it was already so hard and warm. you touched it and it twitched at the coldness of your hand, "sorry," you mouthed.

only you know how to work him up like that for him to uncontrollably bite his lips and grab the sheets, almost taking them off the bed.

the way your tongue licked his full length sent a shiver down his spine, the way you sucked on his tip really made it hard for him to breathe.

you looked up to see him watch you through his half-closed eyes, poor baby.

"wanted to say something?" you decided to tease him while stroking his dick with your hand.

he smiled knowing well that you were playing with him, "please."

you finally used your entire mouth and he couldn't help but slightly move his hips to get his member to go deeper down your throat. god, you were making him feel so good.

"fuck, y/n-" his quiet moans filled your whole room, the higher they got, the closer he was, "i'm gonna-"

you opened your mouth so he can see how his liquid stays on your tongue and how you swallow it after. you look so pretty while doing that.

he pulled you closer to kiss your swollen lips and brushed off your hair that got stuck in saliva on your chin.

today was a very busy day. for interviewers having to interview so many celebrities and for... other people. it was only natural for you to fall asleep in each other's arms.

———

not fully awake you could feel the sun on your face. it was a nice, warm feeling. then it stopped, maybe it was just a cloud passing by. it didn't seem to be coming back, so you opened one eye. it was heeseung sitting at the other side of the bed, covering the sunlight.

"shit," he swore quietly, trying not to wake you up.

"heeseung, what are you doing?" you asked, rubbing your eyes.

"nothing!" he was shocked to hear you. that's strange.

"heeseung. what are you doing?" you repeated yourself, trying to get out of the bed covers.

"it's nothing, don't worry." he wanted to stand up but you managed to grab his phone.

it took your eyes a second to focus. he was about to post a tweet saying that both of you are happily dating.

"what the fuck, heeseung?!" you tried to yell, but your voice still hasn't warmed itself up.

"wait!" he took his phone, clicked something on it, and showed it back to you, "look."

it was a photo of you leaving the after-party together and getting into the car. great.

you fell on the bed, groaning.

"what's up, girlfriend, are you hungry? do you want me to bring you food?"

"don't call me that."

he laid down next to you and kissed your neck, "but you are my girlfriend. you don't believe the headlines?"

"ask me on a date first," you pushed him off of you.

after hotel.

pt3. here

[yuna542]

Masterlist

Car Ride

Pairing: Im Jang-Do × Reader|Myeong-Gils daugther

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol & Sex, Explicit Smut, Oral (m receiving), fingering, Daddy Kink, age difference, pet names, swearing, public sex

Summary: Im Jang-Do. The strategy management director of Smile Capital and right hand of Myeong-Gil has to do his job as a personal bodyguard for the daughter of his boss once again, as she ran away and pick her up at a party. But this night something is different...

Note: Yes he‘s a villain, and yes he’s hot. So don’t blame me… Have fun with this OS and tell me if you liked it <3

"Such a pain in the ass," you muttered, though loud enough for the ex-cop behind the wheel to hear. Through the rearview mirror, you could see him raise an eyebrow, eyes fixed on the road as you sped down Soul at a hundred miles an hour.

"You know very well that your father doesn't like to see you partying wildly and indulging in pleasure..."

His deep voice literally vibrated off the walls of the black SUV. He had chosen his private car for this assignment. It was swanky, shiny, suited him.

You crossed your arms and looked out the window:

"I'm not that drunk."

He smirked and looked at your long crossed legs through the mirror, disappearing endlessly behind the seats under the black minidress.

"Oh yeah? I got you out of there just in time. You were standing on a table getting undressed."

A snort was the only response. You just wanted a night out, to clear your head and get away from all the stress your father put on you every day. He wanted you to take over Smile Capital one day, taught you all the disciplines. In addition to economics, credit business and proper behavior, there was also how to hold a gun, manipulate or intimidate people to your advantage.

You were almost an adult, still a teenager at heart. You longed for freedom, fun and passion. Jang-Do could understand that. However, you were always going overboard. When you entered a room, all eyes were on you, one or the other gasped in awe, others just stared with envy. You were intelligent, beautiful, with attentive eyes and a body that would drive any man out of his mind. He couldn't help but notice your cleavage tonight, as the dress seductively revealed a glint of your breasts. Your waist narrow, your curves soft, plush, thick. It would never occur to him to touch his boss's daughter. After all, you were so young and he had become your nanny by now. He liked to talk himself into working as a bodyguard and yet it was he who picked you up from excessive parties or criminal events. If your father knew half of what he had seen, he would be more than incensed.

Even though you'd had a long night, the car smelled like sweet honey laced with rose water since you got in, in addition to its pungent aftershave.

"It was just getting fun, you have to barge in like my babysitter and ruin everything," you opined, bobbing your foot slightly with the red highheel shimmering on your foot in the car's blue LED light.

"Better call me your bodyguard.... It's less humiliating."

You smirked and returned his gaze over the mirror for the first time that evening. Your lips gleamed from the lip gloss you'd just applied and one eyebrow lifted in amusement.

"Did you wake up because of me?" you asked, noticing his rumpled shirt, only half buttoned, and messy hair that was usually neatly styled. Others would have felt guilty, might have apologized. You just smiled, as if pleased by that fact.

"Couldn't sleep anyway," he grumbled, quickly averting his eyes as he lost track of the road for a second, caught in your eyes. That was the truth. The call from Myeong-Gil had reached him just as he was tossing and turning in bed, desperate for sleep. His boss had informed him that his only daughter, a hothead, barely tamable, much like her father, had gone off on her own. He had found your bed empty. You had once again gotten out of the window to escape the gaze of the guards Myeong-Gil had hired to keep an eye on you. But this was a job that had to be handled with discretion. Therefore, Jang-Do was given the job once again. He already suspected that you had gone to one of the three bars you preferred, and he was asked to pick you up and bring you back.

Annoyed, he slipped into his clothes, took his car keys and went to the bars. He found what he was looking for in the second one.

A bar called Pink Flamingo. He was just through the door when he spotted your long legs on the bar. All around you full of people cheering you on as you danced, drank shots and singing along loudly. The way you drew attention to yourself, enjoying it and playing with the attentiveness of the men below made him pause for a moment and watch you. Your bright laughter cut through the sweat-soaked air like a glistening light. The way you moved your hips to the beat of the music, letting your hands roam over your stomach, your sides, your breasts. He had been entranced until one of the young men who were far too normal, far too inferior to even breathe in your presence:

"Strip!"

Directly others joined in. Both girls and boys. All charmed by you and your charisma. He couldn't help but think of the old tales of sirens and nymphs who made people run smiling to their doom with just the blink of an eye or a smile.

Until now, he thought you were a pretty but headstrong girl who hadn't seen much and knew even less. But now that you were sitting in his back seat, your eyes fixed on the colorful lights of Soul, he could see a certain wisdom in you.

Before you could pull your dress up further, he had closed his hand around your ankle and looked up at you warningly. It had taken you a while to recognize your father's right hand and strategy management director of Smile Capital through the fog caused by the alcohol.

"Get down! Now!" his voice was calm, cutting, and as deep as the ocean.

The sharp jawline, the high cheekbones, the deep black eyes radiated a masculinity that made you bite your lower lip. No one, really no one dared to speak to you like that. Because of your name, your father, or your appearance.

Most trembled at your presence, despite your age. Not Jang-Do. He'd always been untouchable to your charm. At least, that's how it seemed.

Always grim-faced, he did not respond to your attempts at flirtation, nor did he succumb to your looks.

Not even there when you smiled, sat down on the bar, and pulled his hand into your lap.

"Jang-do! Why don't you come and have a drink with me?"

Unimpressed, he stared at you while the people around you eyed you curiously. Your hand was small and soft in his big strong ones.

"We're leaving. Now!" he ordered, pulling you on from the bar. You resisted, trying to fight off his hands as he pushed you through the people.

"Stop it! If you don't let go of me, I'll have you fired!" you hissed, but he only snorted what sounded very much like a laugh.

Even if you had the power, you would never do it. Jang-Do has been a confidant for too long, and there were few of those among your kind.

Outside, in front of the club, you successfully refused to go any further, clinging to a lantern. Sighing, he massaged his temples as you stubbornly glared at him:

"You can't do this! Leave me alone already!"

He shoved his hands into his pockets and watched you cling to the lantern like a drowning woman. It almost looked cute.

"I can't and you know it. Now come on and save us both some time."

You drew your eyebrows together and pushed your lower lip forward. Pouting, you slowly disengaged your arms from the lantern, careful, as if one wrong move could set off a shot. Jang-Do raised his eyebrows in anticipation, recognizing the flash of an idea in your eyes before you could run. Squealing, he caught you and threw you over his shoulder. Cursing, you drummed on his broad shoulders as he carried you to his huge car in front of everyone who turned to look at you. His fingers were tight on your thighs and with a red face you noticed how your dress was riding up. At the car he opened the back door, lowered you and finally you got in. But not before giving him the middle finger in the face.

"Fuck you," you whispered, tugging your dress back into place.

There was actually a smile on his lips as he slammed the door behind you and climbed into the driver's seat.

After you sighed emphatically the third time, he exhaled audibly and looked in the mirror:

"What?"

You looked at his hands, veins trailing over them, like a ripened leaf.

"I'm hungry."

His index finger tapped up and down on the steering wheel until he finally said:

"Burger?"

With a satisfied smile, you nodded quickly and he caught himself smiling too as you looked out the window again, appeased.

At a fast food joint, he pulled up. The stars shone in the cloudy sky. It was a mild night, with balmy breezes swirling the dust on the streets.

You ordered a whole menu. Burgers, fries, coke with lots of ice. The alcohol and the dancing had made you hungry. He himself took a ginger beer and paid for everything.

He drove you to the Han River so the people in the parking lot couldn't keep staring at you. The girl in the Louis Vuitton dress, with the Chanel heels, and her big muscular protector in the Gucci shirt looked strangely out of place in a cheap fast food restaurant.

He parked the car under a bridge and you sat down in the open trunk overlooking the water. It was quiet, cooler than right in the city, and he watched you kick off your heels, put them behind you, and devour your menu with dangling feet.

Right now you didn't look like the daughter of an influential loan shark and brutal gangster. You looked like a pretty girl, just coming of age, happy to have a burger and full of energy. He wondered if you only showed yourself like that around him. You were always perfect in front of the others. You never flinched. Eloquent and above it all. Even in front of your father, you never seemed relaxed or like yourself.

"Jang-do?"

He startled up from his thoughts, noticing that you had finished eating and were just sipping your drink.

"Huh?"

"If you weren't here.... Where would you like to be?" you asked, looking at him with so much curiosity in your eyes that his breath caught.

Your thighs brushed his and he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he answered:

"You mean if I didn't have to babysit you?" he asked and you lifted your gaze from his muscular forearms.

"Bodyguard."

He laughed. It was a strange sound, and yet you wanted to hear it again. You leaned against his shoulder teasingly.

"You know what I mean."

He ran his hand through his hair, looking at your silver necklace with a crescent moon on it. You'd gotten it from your mother one day. Just before she died. Since then, he had never seen you without it. It lay on your skin like liquid silver and he resisted the urge to touch the place where it touched your collarbone.

"I've heard Hawaii is beautiful," he said, and you smiled. Immediately, images of raffia skirts and hula dancers popped into your head.

"And you? If you didn't have to take over Smile Capital? What would you do?" he asked, his interest making your cheeks blush a little.

"I'd like to dance."

He frowned in wonder, feeling your body lean against his, warm and soft.

"Dancing, really?" he asked incredulously.

You felt directly silly. You had never told anyone about your hobby. Since childhood, you loved to dance. From ballet to hip-hop and standard dances, you had done it all.

"Yes. Anywhere. On stages, in the theater, or teaching it to others. It doesn't matter."

You expected him to laugh at you. Make fun of you, or even be disgusted. Instead, he looked out at the river, the way the city lights shimmered on the surface like jewelry.

"It suits you."

The smile widened and he thought he had never seen anything more beautiful. Now it made sense to him why you went out partying so often. There you could dance regardless of your surroundings, let off steam without the fear of being stopped by your father. Or of being dragged out by his right hand.

But that was his job and the life you were born into.

That's when his eyes fell on the time on his phone and he stood up. Almost in a panic, you looked up at him.

"I really should take you home now."

"Please don't!" it escaped you and he closed his eyes for a moment, building up all his resistance against your big pleading eyes.

"Why don't you just want to go back?" he asked, rummaging in his back pocket for the car keys.

"I hate it there. Always the same. I'm trapped, never free to do what I want," you said, realizing you were finally being honest for once.

"And yet I have to take you back."

You stood up and just as he had the car keys in his hand, you sped forward and got a hold of them. Quickly you ran around the car, afraid he might grab you again.

But he stopped, looked at you blankly and tilted his head slightly.

"What are you doing?"

You raised the key in the air and jingled it playfully.

"If you want them, you'll have to get past me first."

You grinned wildly and he laughed throatily again. Glancing at the ground, he kicked a rock away and looked back up at you.

"You don't want to do that."

You continued around the car, to the passenger side, wiggling your eyebrows defiantly.

"You don't know what I want!"

Actually, he hadn't gotten up to play catch with a rebellious girl, and yet he felt the need to bend you over his hood to see if you still had such a big mouth with his handprint on your ass. Slowly he walked around the car, keeping you in his eyes like a lynx on the lookout. Your heart leapt with excitement and before you could react, he chased you around the car. Squealing, you tried to escape, but he reached you at the hood at the latest, grabbed your wrist and pressed you against the cold metal.

You hid the key behind your back and withstood his penetrating eye contact. Defiantly you jutted your chin at him, even as his eyes roamed over your face, scrutinizing your lips, and you realized how close he was to you. His chest was pressed against yours, his hip against yours, and he pushed one knee between your legs to get to the key.

Only when his lips hovered right in front of yours did he seem to realize what had just happened. You thought he would back away, turn away and scowl. Instead, you felt his hot breath bounce against your lips and his hand find its way to your hip. He was older. Much older and yet the gleam in his eyes was young, his broad shoulders agile and his desire real. Your body heat made him increasingly lose his mind, and he whispered in a voice so low it made you shiver:

"What are you doing?"

Your eyes wandered up and down until you gently placed your free hand against his chest.

"What are you doing?" you repeated his question, barely more than a breath.

"I want my key!"

"Uh-huh."

You slowly took out the hand with the key, but right now you could only pay attention to his firm chest, his attractive face hovering in front of yours, and his tart masculine smell.

The hood was pressed tighter and tighter against your butt and he made no effort to put distance between you. Gradually, pure fire rose in his eyes and desire slammed its claws into you.

"You can have them," you whispered, unable to speak louder.

Your hand with the key hovered next to his shoulder, but he was no longer interested. Instead, he pulled your chin closer and your lips collided. The key fell onto the hood with a click as he grabbed you by the hips, lifted you onto it, and stepped between your legs. Your hands flew into his hair, pulling at it as your lips collided hard.

It was a fireworks display of passion, lust and desire. Pure heat gripped you and you hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt, touching his abs, sighing into his mouth as he cupped your breasts, kneading them until you felt dizzy. Your legs were wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer

Desperately, he bit your lower lip until you opened your mouth a little. He let his tongue slip in and played with yours. His dominance made you melt like butter in his hands. His lips found their way down your neck, sucking on the crook of your neck as he pushed the straps of your dress off your shoulders.

"Shit... Jang-Do," you gasped, overwhelmed by the sudden excitement that gathered red-hot between your legs.

Your father would kill you both with his own hands. Jang-Do slowly and agonizingly, that was clear to him, and yet the idea that he was taking something that belonged to his boss fired him.

He pushed your dress down until your breasts sprang free and watched you for a moment. The cold air on your heated skin made you shiver. At your hips, the dress had ridden up so far that you sat with your bare ass on the cool hood. A red thong soaked between your legs.

"Such pretty tits... A shame I'm only seeing them now," he purred, and you gasped softly as he twirled your nipples between his fingers. Then he clasped a sensitive bud and sucked on it until you fell backward, clinging to his neck to stay even halfway upright.

He worked the soft flesh of your breasts with his mouth and kneaded the other breast until you felt dizzy and impatiently pressed your middle against his crotch.

"Jang-Do please!" you sighed, clawing into his chest. You could feel how hard he was. Even through the fabric of his pants.

"Please what? Use your words baby girl," he murmured in your ear, pulling lightly on your hair to press his mouth against your throat.

"Please fuck me. Please!"

You would have been embarrassed by the pleading otherwise, but right now, with him touching you in a way that made your body melt before him, you didn't care.

"Who would have thought? The little princess is a little whore...begging to be fucked by me," he murmured, stroking his fingers through your wet folds. Pressing his thumb on your clit, he murmured:

"Don't you think you should start by apologizing for making me work overtime tonight because of you?"

His eyes gleamed like those of a predator on the prowl. His jaw twitched and you would have done anything at that moment. He enjoyed the fact that the tough, untouchable girl looked pleadingly small with her big eyes, almost tearing up under his touch.

Quickly you nodded, gasping as he put more pressure directly on your clit and that's when he slid his index and middle fingers into your mouth. Greedily you sucked on it, circling it with your tongue as you would suck his dick and he grumbled:

"Fuck... You're way too sexy for your age."

Satisfied, you took his fingers all the way down your throat and bobbed your head until his pants were so tight it hurt.

"On your knees, princess!" he commanded, just as he commanded his employees, but with a hint of softness in his voice that immediately made you sink to the ground.

The sight made him tense as you knelt on your knees before him, tits out, lips plush and red, eyes sparkling with arousal.

He opened his pants, pushed them down along with his boxers, and sighed in relief when his hard dick finally sprung free.

You got wide-eyed, trembling at the size and doubting you could take it.

He took it in his hand, stroked himself a few times before saying with a slight grin:

"Suck my dick and maybe I'll consider fucking you senseless."

You put a hand around his base and first licked the bit of precum off his tip before licking the length of his massive dick once. He watched stunned as you wrapped your lips around his tip and began to move your head evenly. Each time you took him deeper until you were quietly gagging. The warmth and wetness of your mouth made him gasp and he buried one hand in your hair. The other landed on the hood with a loud clap as he guided your head to thrust deep into your throat. You couldn't breathe, his length teasing the back of your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes as his speed increased and he thrust ruthlessly into your mouth. The little sinful noises you made, the choking, the whimpering only turned him on more until he fucked your mouth roughly, hand tugging your hair and he gasped deeply breathless.

"So good for me... Taking my cock like a slut. Fuck," he murmured, and you pressed your thighs together to soothe the moist heat a bit.

Your throat ached, as did your knees from the gravel floor, and yet there was this insatiable arousal. His curses became throatier and heavier as he was about to cum. He thrust deep into your throat a few more times until your nose bumped against the soft fuzz on his lower belly and you gagged with narrowed eyes.

Then he came and his hot cum shot into your mouth, leaving you gasping and struggling for breath as you swallowed it all.

He pulled his still rock hard dick out of your mouth with a plop and the corners of his mouth twitched as saliva and his cum made your lips glisten.

With his thumb he brushed away a few remnants and hummed animatedly as you licked them from his finger.

He offered you a hand and helped you back to your feet, where he gently brushed the sweaty hair from your forehead and removed the smeared makeup from under your eyes with his hands. The sudden caring was a strange contrast after he had just abused your face so violently.

But the heat between your legs was by now so unbearable that you whimpered softly.

He noticed how you rubbed your legs together, smiled knowingly and kissed your lips lovingly.

"For sucking my cock that well, you should be rewarded..."

Happily, you pressed against him and nodded.

"Do you want to be rewarded, baby girl?" he asked, running his thumb over your nipple.

"Yes, Daddy."

The words came over your lips without you knowing how he would react. Surprised, he raised his eyebrows and with satisfaction you felt his dick twitching uneasily against your belly. He liked the nickname.

"Don't worry, Daddy will take care of your pretty little pussy," he growled and everything inside you cried out in anticipation.

That's when he spun you around, pressing you fast and hard onto the hood so that your hands banged loudly on it. Until your butt was raised and he pushed your legs apart with one foot so he had a better view of the wet spot between them.

"You think you can take my big cock? Have you ever had one this big?" he asked, hungry and full of desire as he pulled your panties down until he finally had a view of your shiny hole. Rattling your breath, you propped yourself up on the car and shook your head.

"Never. Never been fucked by such a big cock."

He nodded slowly, stroking his fingers through your folds, gathering your wetness until you gasped desperately. Then, without warning, he pushed two fingers into you from behind, began pumping them inside you, curling them so they hit your sweet spot each time. Gasping, you tried to see straight, but his long fingers were too good, too deep, for you to even think clearly.

"Fuck you're tight. I think I might be gonna break you..." he murmured, but sounded like he was looking forward to it.

You couldn't take it any longer, reaching your hips out for him to finally fill you up. You needed his dick as the air to breathe, which is why you breathlessly said:

"Please break me, Daddy! Ruin me! Have it your way."

He laughed softly, pumping his fingers inside you a few more times until you rolled your eyes with a moan. Then he put his tip to your entrance, teasing you by running it through your lips, and murmured:

"If that's what the princess wants, I can hardly refuse her wish."

Your head went blank as he sunk into you. Your body cracked in half and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he stretched you, painfully widening your walls while groaning loudly.

Your knees went weak, but he held you so tightly at the waist that you couldn't fall.

As he slowly pulled out again, and slammed into you again tears welled up in your eyes, and from your throat only ticked off sounds escaped you.

"You're crushing me.... Fuck..." he gasped, throbbing deep inside you.

"So... so big..." you moaned, and as he began thrusting fast inside you, the curses and words became an incomprehensible high-pitched mixture of sounds. Soon the pain mixed with pleasure and the night air was filled with the slap of his hips against your ass and the wet sound of your aching cunt coupled with your naughty noises and his muffled moans. Your cunt swallowed his length deeper and he never wanted to sink into another pussy again. Yours was made for him. Your body arched under him, your breasts pressed tightly against the hood of his car and his fingers so tight on your hips that imprints would be left by his hands. He thrust into you faster, harder, enjoying how your walls welcomed him and you crumbled beneath him.

Curses escaped him as you moaned his name like a mantra between the pornographic noises.

The coil in your belly ruptured with a loud pop and a wave of white pleasure swept you along. Your orgasm rolled over you like a tsunami wave, leaving you world fading and your body trembling.

Jang-Do cursed between clenched teeth as you nearly crushed him and after a few deep thrusts that made you see stars he came inside you too.

He extended his climax by thrusting sloppy into your sore pussy a few more times and then pulled his dick out of you. Strings of his white hot load pulled out of your cunt as it ran down your thigh and you remained motionless on the hood. Fucked out and cockdrunk. Your thoughts only returned in shreds. Control of your body only much later. You heard him zipping your pants and looking at his handiwork.

"So pretty... Filled up with my cum," he murmured, catching what leaked out of you with his fingers to push it back into your hole.

You moaned and your fingernails clawed into the hood as he finger fucked his cum back into your cunt.

"We don't want to waste anything," he murmured, then helped you put on your panties and dress.

You still couldn't say anything, your head was buzzing too much and your body was completely wrecked. He helped you into the car. This time into the passenger seat and only when he sat next to you, slipping the key into the ignition, did you look at him. Your makeup was ruined, as was your hair, but Jang-Do could never look away. He had never seen anything more beautiful than your swollen lips, your tear stained cheeks, and the feathery expression from the orgasm that reverberated across your face.

"My dad will kill you if he finds out."

Your voice still sounded brittle, your throat felt sore.

He let the engine rev and pulled back onto the road.

"Then I hope he won't find out. But that's your decision."

His gaze was on the road, his handsome mouth contorted contentedly into a smirk. He placed his fate in your hands, just as you had revealed your soul and body to him. In doing so, he proved that he did not take it lightly. It had meaning. And he would pay with his life if it depended on it.

You nodded slowly and leaned back in your seat. The streets were empty so late and your eyelids grew heavy.

The silence was comfortable and you reached for his hand that lay loosely between you. Surprised, he gave you a quick glance as you placed it on your thigh, but then he closed his fingers around your soft flesh.

He accompanied you to your front door and gave you a curt nod before turning to leave, but you held him back by the arm. Questioning, he turned back to you and saw you smiling warmly.

With your hands firmly on his chest, you kissed him. It was more the promise of a kiss. Your soft lips feather light on his, barely a second before you pulled back and opened the door. Before you could disappear inside, your eyes met and your cheeks grew hot again.

"See you tomorrow," he said goodbye, memorizing every detail once more before the door would slam shut.

The line of your shoulders, the shape of your cupids bows, the shape of your legs under the hem of your dress.

Tomorrow you would meet again and today would never have happened. This was important to both of your survival and yet it didn't feel final.

"See you tomorrow," you murmured. Your voice sweet as caramel. He nodded curtly, turned, and before he could walk the long stone path to the mansion's exit, you stopped him once more:

"Jang-Do?"

He turned to you again, as he had so many times before.

"Huh?"

You leaned your temple against the door and said:

"Turn your cell phone on loud tomorrow night. You might have to work overtime again."

The corners of his mouth lifted slowly and he walked backward a few steps, a knowing gleam in his eye. Respectfully, he tilted his head and you thought you could really get used to the sincere smile.

"Understood."

You waited until he was out of sight and the engine of his car died away somewhere in the distance. Then you pulled the door shut, freezing as you felt the cool tiles beneath the soles of your feet.

A giggle escaped you in the darkness of the hallway as you realized you had left your shoes in Jang-Do's trunk.

--

© Sky-yuna — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[lightofraye]

All About Glen

I'm in the mood for something... easy.

Or, rather, I thought this would be easy. Then I went deep diving and have yet to surface. This post will likely edited a few more times in the next few days (maybe? I'll let you know either way), so keep an eye out!

So... who is Glen Powell? Besides a possible new rising star in Hollywood. (Certainly his upcoming projects say he's in high demand!)

Come with me, and I shall tell you!

Also, I had so much fun diving into his background! Learned more about this guy than I realized!

(And I also turned my daughter into a Glen Powell fan! I'll explain why/how in a bit!)

Raised in Austin, Texas, born on October 21, 1988, to Glen Powell Sr and Cyndy Powell, he's the middle child of three. And the only boy. He has an older sister named Lauren and a younger sister, Leslie. Named after his father, the Original Glen (no, seriously, that's his Instagram!), Glen was a child actor. He started performing with the Austin Musical Theater program when he was in the fifth grade, learning to tap dance--according to Leslie, there is video evidence--and appearing in The Music Man and 42nd Street.

Oh, he explored all sorts of extracurriculars' growing up. Football, lacrosse, all sorts. However, his passion and fascination were movies.

The actor recalled that he would be “picking dandelions” in the outfield while playing baseball as a kid, and his parents, Cyndy and Glen Sr., were ready to let him try something else.

“I played violin for a bit, and all of a sudden, I was like, ‘No, not into this anymore.’ They let me give it up,” he continued, noting they were supportive until Powell found something he “really loved.” That’s where his acting career comes in.

At the precious age of 5, his father took him to see Steven Spielberg's megahit, Jurassic Park, in the summer of 1993. Glen ended up watching the movie multiple times in theaters, and again on home video, trying to figure out the secrets of the film's special effects.

In an interview with Austin Monthly, Glen said he began making his own science fiction films growing up. He'd use a home video camera, computer, recruited his friends to be actors, and searched for props in his family's basement. Seeing this, his parents encouraged him to enroll in acting classes.

His second grade project was on Steven Spielberg's use of practical effects in Jurassic Park. In 2003, when he was 14, he got his first movie role as "long-fingered boy" in Spy Kids 3: Game Over. His location in Austin helped him land the role. Director Robert Rodriguez discovered Powell, then 14, while looking for "local hires" to accompany the primarily Los Angeles-based cast.

"You're just trying to find someone locally that won't get nervous, that'll give a performance that kind of measures up to the other actors. He walks in with a stature and confidence and just nails it," Rodriguez told IndieWire. "So now, it's no surprise to see [he made it as an actor], but he already had that quality at 14 and clarity of vision that that's what he was supposed to be."

Two years later, he played a paperboy in The Wendell Baker Story, a part that required him to get hit by a car, which he practiced with his mother in a church parking lot.

In 2006, everything changed. His mother, Cyndy, drove him five hours to Shreveport, La., to audition for Denzel Washington, who was directing and starring in The Great Debaters. Powell got the part--and a powerful agent: Ed Limato, who represented Washington.

Powell also starred in Fast Food Nation (2006), and The Hottest State (2006) over the next few years.

Still in high school at Westwood, Powell even considered deprioritizing his acting career until receiving a pep talk from Denzel Washington during the filming of The Great Debaters. In the movie, Powell played Harvard University student Preston Whittington and impressed the two-time Oscar winner. "Denzel Washington really pushed me out of the nest a bit and said, 'You should double-down on yourself. You should give [acting] a shot'," Powell said.

A year later, Limato called Powell in his dorm room at the University of Texas at Austin.

"Ed said, 'If you're going to spin the wheel on an acting career, now is the time to do it'," Powell said.

Taking a chance, Powell dropped out of college and moved to Los Angeles in 2008. “Ed always told me, over and over, that the definition of a movie star is somebody who guys want to grab a beer with — fun, not threatening — and who women want to date and bring home to meet their parents,” Powell said.

Limato had a history of helping turn actors into big stars--among his clients? Mel Gibson, Richard Gere, and Kevin Costner. Limato also gave Powell a crucial career tip: Don’t take on a role in a big franchise too soon, however tempting the paycheck; stars are built in smaller movies of varied genres.

Unfortunately for Powell, Limato died two years later, leaving him without an advocate.

It was a rough and learning time for Glen. He supported himself through coaching community sports and small acting jobs (a Dockers commercial, an episode of The Lying Game, a cable series).

Not long after Powell moved to Los Angeles, Limato introduced him to Lynda Obst, a fellow Texan and a producer of hits like How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, Contact, and Sleepless in Seattle. She hired Powell as an intern, a job that involved reading scripts and giving feedback.

It helped him learn how Hollywood ran.

Obst recalled, "He was adorable--charm off the charts. But that is not what impressed me, and it's not why he's succeeding." She went on: "Actors can turn on charm, but they can't turn on intelligence. Glen is smart and learned about developing scripts and the structure in movies. It made him independent and wily."

He eventually got dropped by the William Morris Endeavor talent agency. He began to question whether superstardom was even achievable anymore. He took to writing scripts and sold several to help keep himself afloat during his shaky start.

Glen took Washington's advice and gradually began appearing in more prominent titles, including the Christopher Nolan-directed Batman movie, The Dark Knight Rises, in 2012 as an unnamed Gotham Stock Exchange Trader. He also appeared in the ensemble movie, The Expendables 3, in 2014, appearing alongside action stars such as Sylvester Stallone, Harrison Ford, and Arnold Schwarzenegger.

In 2016, he played astronaut John Glenn in Hidden Figures. Glen was cited as saying that upon viewing a rough cut of the film with unfinished special effects, he was critical of his performance. "I just remember being like 'I ruined this beautiful movie, the legacy of these amazing women'," he explained in an interview with Variety.

Fortunately, critics and the audience disagreed--the movie made more than $230 million at the box office and received an Academy Award nomination for Best Picture.

He took a detour into comedy for his next roles, including the teen movie Everybody Wants Some!! (2016), and the Netflix rom-com Set It Up (2018).

In between all that, he went onto a recurring role on Scream Queens (Ryan Murphy's show on Fox), and appear in The Guernsey Literary and Potato Pie Society. He's even done voice roles, such as the Netflix cartoon, Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous, and an episode of Rick and Morty.

How he got the huge leap to everyone's attention was something he nearly turned down. He lost out on blockbuster roles including Captain America, Han Solo in Solo, in addition to pieces in films ranging from Friday Night LIghts to Cowboys & Aliens and The Longest Ride.

His break was something he nearly missed out on.

When Miles Teller beat him out of the part of Rooster in Top Gun: Maverick, and Tom Cruise and director Joe Kosinski offered him the role of Hangman instead.

The problem?

"If I were editing this movie, I would cut him out immediately," Powell said to British GQ. The original version of the character was a lousy pilot who made it to Top Gun through nepotism, a storyline Powell thought did the film a disservice.

Luck was with him. Cruise and Kosinski decided to hear him out and ended up convinced, rewriting the character based on Powell's notes.

“What we were talking about is, how can Hangman service the story and give the flavour of the original Top Gun that you need?” Powell said.

“I said my piece to Tom about what I do and what I do well, and he listened. Tom’s a listener. He listens to the crew members, he listens to his collaborators, and he hears people.”

And good thing he did — Top Gun: Maverick went on to become a box office phenomenon, and Powell’s career got the kickstart he had waited so long for.

2022 was his year. He appeared in the war drama Devotion, the Netflix animated comedy Apollo 10 1/2: A Space Age Childhood, and Top Gun: Maverick. The latter, the sequel to the 1986 vehicle--became the biggest movie of the year, grossing nearly $1.5 billion at the global box office.

Powell underwent extensive training for the film, including underwater escape simulations and flights in F-18 aircraft to prepare for the G-forces he would experience on camera. Cruise even paid for the actor to complete flight school as a Christmas present, allowing Powell to earn his pilot's license.

We all know what happened after this. His role with Sydney Sweeney on Anyone But You brought him even more attention. His future projects will keep him busy for at least a couple of years. (He did tease he has a start date for Top Gun 3, but has refused to say more than that.)

He's been romantically linked to Nina Dobrev in 2017, Australian TV host Renee Bargh from 2018 to 2019. He began dating model Gigi Paris, starting in 2020. We know in April of 2023, they broke up for good.

Glen Powell Sr, his father, was an executive coach. His mother? A stay at home mom. Leslie is working on her career as a singer, and was fortunate enough to have had a song be used for the Olympics!

Both parents have trolled the hell out of Glen during the premiere of Hit Man. In a way, his family is what keeps Glen grounded.

Amusingly, Us Weekly described his parents as the first ever nepo parents.

“The greatest gift that my parents gave me is never making me sit in things I didn’t want to sit in and letting me chase the passions I wanted to chase, no matter what,” Powell, 35, told Us Weekly exclusively while promoting his new movie Twisters. “I am really grateful for my parents for not trying to deter me from a job that has such a low success rate.”

As his fame continued to rise, his parents have made various cameos in his movies over the years.

His Instagram is full of photos of behind the scenes, with family, and of course, Brisket.

There was a rumor that Glen was opening a restaurant in Austin. This has been researched and debunked. I did go into detail about his future projects here.

--

So how did I convert my daughter into a fan?

Because I was talking to her about the gossip regarding him and Sydney Sweeney. I showed her the photos, then I showed her how he was with his other female costars.

With Adria Arjona from Hit Man.

With Daisy Edgar-Jones from Twisters.

And her first thought: "He makes them comfortable. He's safe. That's why they're so relaxed."

In that instant, she became a fan. That's all it took.

So yeah. Got fans here.

We're looking forward to more about this green-eyed Texan!

--

BONUS: Glen also is rather hilarious on Twitter! Check this out!

Hilariously, he decided to run with it!

We love a star who can make a joke like this!

Sources (with blatant lifts when possible): New York Times (using web archive due to paywall) Entertainment Weekly Us Weekly Biography Los Angeles Time Variety *I freely admit/acknowledge I relied on existing writing to put all this together. I added, rearranged, edited, as necessary. I am grateful to the access of this information that allowed me to compile this biography!

[bilightningwhumper]

Bilightningwhumper's AI-Less Whumptober 2024 Collection

*Now Completed!*

Excerpts using prompts from @ailesswhumptober for my planned "Shadow of a Shield" (MCU fic collection), "The New Eden Institution" (dystopian fairy tale retelling fic collection), and "Temptations of Fate" (Romeo and Juliet Angels/Demons AU variation fic). So, warnings for spoilers ahead, but I'm doing my best to keep them minimal. Short and sweet. Well, short and whumpy, lol.

"Shadow of a Shield" chapters will be labeled with "SoaS" in the title

"The New Eden Institution" ones with "TNEI"

"Temptations of Fate" with "ToF"

Hope you enjoy!

Day 1- Torture Tuesday- SoaS

Public torture/public use, stress position, “If you cry, we’ll go easy on you.”

Fic: Plight of the Canary (Mare's story) PoV: Mare- Bucky and Nat's daughter Summary: Mare wakes up to a nightmare

Day 2- Whumperless Wednesday- SoaS

Unfortunate fall, car accident, “Don’t move. You’ll be okay.”

Fic: Shadow of a Shield (Jamie's story) PoV: Jamie- Steve and Peggy's daughter Summary: An attack on the Starks has old memories flooding back to Jamie

Day 3- Trauma Thursday- SoaS

Shared trauma, survivor’s guilt, “It’s not your fault.”

Fic: Plight of the Canary (Mare's story) PoV: Mare- Bucky and Natasha's daughter, Will's twin Summary: Becca comforts Mare after they get Jamie home

Day 4- Fright/Freaky Friday- SoaS

Painful transformation, non-consensual body modifications, “You’re a monster.”

Fic: When an Angel Falls... (Becca's story) PoV: Becca- Steve and Bucky's daughter Summary: Becca is changed... forever

Day 5- Sensory Saturday- SoaS

Overstimulation, migraines, “I can’t take this anymore.”

Fic: Shadow of a Shield (Jamie's story) PoV: Jamie- Steve and Peggy's daughter Summary: Jamie has a sensory overload away from home in the midst of high school drama

Day 6- Surprise Sunday- ToF

Multiple whumpees, self sacrifice, “I’m the only one who can do this.”

Fic: Temptations of Fate (Romeo and Juliet Angels/Demons AU retelling) PoV: Morgan- Romeo Summary: The mission ends, but not the way anyone planned... or wanted

Day 7- Medical Monday- TNEI

Field medicine, running out of supplies, “Hold on, we’re going to have to improvise.”

Fic: Just Right (Goldilocks retelling) PoV: Tressa- Goldilocks Summary: Practical first aid used on Tressa when she's discovered after breaking into a stranger's home

Day 8- Torture Tuesday- TNEI

Rope burns, gagged, “You’re so much prettier this way.”

Fic: Forever Prey (Red Riding Hood retelling) PoV: Sienna- Red Riding Hood Summary: After her punishment for disobedience, Director Wolf comes to free Sienna

Day 9- Whumperless Wednesday- SoaS

Hypothermia, heatstroke, “You look pretty pale.”

Fic: When an Angel Falls... (Becca's story) PoV: Bucky Barnes Summary: Bucky meets someone... new?

Day 10- Trauma Thursday- SoaS

Self worth issues, pushing away a loved one, “You don't need to earn this.”

Fic: Flight of the Reaper (Will's story) PoV: Will- Bucky and Natasha's son, Mare's twin Summary: Will wants to be left alone but his mother is as stubborn as he is

Day 11- Fright/Freaky Friday- TNEI

Hallucinations, truth serum, “Why would you even say that?”

Fic: Hollow Mirror (Alice in Wonderland reteling) PoV: Natalie- Alice Summary: After Natalie drinks some tea, she starts having weird experiences

Day 12- Sensory Saturday- TNEI

Isolation, sensory deprivation, “Can you feel me? I’m right here, whumpee.”

Fic: Picture Perfect (Rapunzel + Hansel and Gretel combo retelling) PoV: Leslie- Rapunzel Summary: Leslie attempts a reunion with Josh after the first one didn't go so well

Day 13- Surprise Sunday- SoaS

Whumpee using themself as bait, defiance, “Take me instead.”

Fic: "When an Angel Falls..." (Becca's story) PoV: Becca- Steve and Bucky's daughter Summary: Mariya comes for Becca, but she's too sick

Day 14- Medical Monday- TNEI

Seizures, concussion, “See if you can follow my finger with your eyes.”

Fic: "Just Right" (Goldilocks retelling) PoV: Tressa- Goldilocks Summary: Tressa has a trip to the doctor

Day 15- Torture Tuesday- SoaS

Waterboarding, removing body parts, “Don’t break down on me yet.”

Fic: "Flight of the Reaper" (Will's story) PoV: Will- Bucky and Natasha's son, Mare's twin Summary: Waking up after an attack, Will has an unpleasant surprise

Day 16- Whumperless Wednesday- TNEI

Drowning, hostile environment, “I don’t know how anybody could survive that.”

Fic: "Final Piece" (The Last Unicorn retelling) PoV: Galen/Ame- Unicorn Summary: Galen and Esme attempt to escape notice of the search party after running from the Asylum

Day 17- Trauma Thursday- SoaS

Abandonment, misunderstanding, “Why did I even think you cared?”

Fic: "Shadow of a Shield" (Jamie's story) PoV: Jamie- Steve and Peggy's daughter Summary: The Halloween Dance has Jamie making new discoveries...

Day 18- Fright/Freaky Friday- SoaS

Mind control, possession, “Everybody will end up despising you.”

Fic: "Plight of the Canary" (Mare's story) PoV: Mare- Bucky and Natasha's daughter, Will's twin Summary: Mare has ghosts of memory haunting her

Day 19- Sensory Saturday- SoaS

Disassociation, losing a sense, “I wish I could get you back.”

Fic: "Shadow of a Shield" (Jamie's story) PoV: Ana- Jamie's best friend Summary: An unexpected encounter brings up unpleasant memories for Ana

Day 20- Surprise Sunday- SoaS

Enemy/Stranger to caretaker, accidental de-aging, “I’m absolutely not qualified for this shit.”

Fic: "Plight of the Canary" (Mare's story) PoV: Natasha Romanoff Summary: Parenthood isn't easy for a former assassin and spy

Day 21- Medical Monday- SoaS

Drugged, ambulance ride, “This will make you feel better, okay?”

Fic: "Plight of the Canary" (Mare's story) PoV: Mare- Bucky and Natasha's daughter, Will's twin Summary: An unexpected reunion for a pair of twins

Day 22- Torture Tuesday- TNEI

Forced (to kneel/watch/hurt somebody else), whipped, “Do not look away.”

Fic: "Bruised Apple" (Snow White retelling) PoV: Darcy- Snow White Summary: Darcy receives a gift from her stepmother

Day 23- Whumperless Wednesday- TNEI

Fever, passing out, “Hey?! Stay with me, okay?!”

Fic: "Bruised Apple" (Snow White retelling) PoV: Darcy- Snow White Summary: Cleaning doesn't go well for Darcy

Day 24- Trauma Thursday- SoaS

Deconditioning, relapse, “It’s normal that you need more time.”

Fic: "Plight of the Canary" (Mare's story) PoV: Mare- Bucky and Natasha's daughter, Will's twin Summary: Mare and Steve have a heart-to-heart

Day 25- Fright/Freaky Friday- TNEI

Humiliation, betrayal, “How could you?!”

Fic: "Hollow Mirror" (Alice in Wonderland retelling) PoV: Reid- Red Knave Summary: Reid has a realization meeting his parents' new "pet"

Day 26- Sensory Saturday- SoaS

Electrocution, burning, “This is going to sting.”

Fic: "Shadow of a Shield" (Jamie's story) PoV: Jamie- Steve and Peggy's daughter Summary: Training between Jamie and Ana doesn't go well

Day 27- Surprise Sunday- TNEI

Before vs after, Alternate universe, “Well, there’s a first for everything.”

Fic: "Just Right" (Goldilocks retelling) PoV: Tressa- Goldilocks Summary: Tressa thinks back to before and compares it to now

Day 28- Medical Monday- TNEI

Internal bleeding, needles and stitches, “I didn’t think the wound was that bad…”

Fic: "Weary Rest" (Sleeping Beauty retelling) PoV: Fion- Prince Summary: Petal comes to visit while Fion gets first aid

Day 29- Torture Tuesday- TNEI

Ownership, branding, “Everybody will know that you’re mine.”

Fic: "Royal Makeover" (Frog Prince retelling) PoV: Wayland- Frog Prince Summary: Lorainne lays her claim on Wayland, permanently

Day 30- Whumperless Wednesday- SoaS

Poison, delirium, “You’re not making sense.”

Fic: "Shadow of a Shield" (Jamie's story) PoV: Jamie- Steve and Peggy's daughter Summary: Pre-heat starting at school isn't fun

Day 31- Trauma Thursday- ToF

Panic attack, facing a phobia, “You need to get out of here!”

Fic: "Temptations of Fate" (Romeo and Juliet Angels/Demons AU retelling) PoV: Morgan- Romeo Summary: Demon memories can be tangible compared to a human's

Full collection on Ao3 (or will be at the end of October, lol) here:

[simp4pedropascal75]

“Only you and me.” (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

Word count:1,6K

summary: Its your graduation day, one of the most important days in your whole life, but your dad misses the ceremony, although he promised he would be there... (happy ending)

trigger warnings: some curse words, just a short mention of anxiety, angst (but with a happy ending)

This is my first post of a oneshot and I mentioned in my Introduction that English isn’t my first language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes, please tell me then:) I hope you’ll like it, enjoy <3

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Y/N’s POV

Today is your graduation, finally. You worked so hard for this and you’re even class best, but you wouldn’t have done it without your dad. Since your mother left it has always been you and your dad, Pedro Pascal. He always gave you the comfort you need, helped you in every situation and has given you courage. He tried to help you with your homework since you’re in school and tried to get to every football match or school performance you had. But having a dad who’s a very famous actor, isn’t always that fun. The older you got, the more you could take care of yourself and didn’t need a grown-up to look after you that long anymore. But Pedro still tried to always be there on any events, but it got more that he didn’t had time, because of a new project he was working on or just some work stuff. But you know he tried the best as he could and that’s one of the reasons why you loved him so much.

Now you’re 17 and it’s the day of your graduation. You dad wasn’t at home now, because he has a meeting with some directors, because of the new series “The Last Of Us”, where he’s playing Joel and you’re pretty proud of him that he got this role, but he promised he’ll be there when your graduation begins.

Now it’s only five minutes till your graduation starts. You look nervous through the hall, where already all family members of the students sit, but you don’t find your dad sitting anywhere. You gulp. “He’ll come, I’m sure… He’s your dad, and he would never miss your graduation, he still has five minutes”, your best friend says while laying her hand on your shoulder. You nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” You say to her with a nervous smile, and you wait.

Pedro’s POV

The meeting went longer than planned because the directors had to talk about so much. I told them, that I must go, but they kept me there. And now, I`m sitting in my car and there’s traffic right in front of me. I look at the time and I only have two minutes left. I take out my phone, wanting to tell her, that I’m in traffic right now, but her phone is turned off. “Mierda!” (Fuck!), I curse while punching against my steering wheel.

Y/N’s POV

Your graduation begins while you’re looking panicking through the whole hall, and you still don’t see him. “Por favor…” (Please), you mumble to yourself, still hoping that he’ll come. The minutes gone by, and it’s already been 30 minutes, and he also missed your speech that you planned on 2 weeks before, which he was so excited to hear. You bite nervously on your lower lip. The graduation ceremony will soon be over, and you’ll be given your classification on stage. “He still has to come… please.” You start thinking why he would come too late, just because he had to go to work this morning? You asked him if he can’t take the day off, but he just gave you’re a forehead kiss, saying that he can’t but he promises he’ll come this afternoon and went to work.

More 15 minutes go by and you’re about to go on stage, you don’t see him anywhere and now you give up any hope. You feel that your eyes begin to water because of the disappointment. You pull yourself together when your name was called and go up the stage with a forced smile.

Pedro’s POV

When I got out of the traffic, I had already been 30 minutes too late. I think I never drove so fast with my car like I did now. I definitely was over the speed limit and got caught by a speeding camera, but I don’t care about that. All I care about was going to the graduation of my little girl. After 15 minutes I got to her school and start running straight to the hall, where the graduation was. I burst through the door, seeing how you got your certificate and a handshake from your principal.

Y/N’s POV

I hear the door open and look cross the hallway, my dad’s eyes are meeting mine. I Immediately start tearing up, giving my principal a handshake, and going off the stage. He walks towards me. “I’m so sorry, mijita…-“ (my daughter), you cut him off. “You promised…” You say to him while a tear is running down your cheek. You can tell that he feels awful, but you do too. You feel so hurt right now. “You fucking promised…” You whisper. “Mi cariño, you don’t know how sorry I am- the meeting went longer than I expected and-“, You cut him off again. “I asked you not to go to work today, dad. You missed my speech, which I worked 2 weeks on! You missed my whole graduation!”, You say a little louder because of frustration and disappointment, but because you don’t want to cause too much attention, you just go to your best friend again. “I’m so sorry Y/N, I’m sure he didn’t mean it”. You sigh, taking your things. “Let’s just get out of here.” You say to her in a cold tone, trying to hold your emotions back. You go out, following your classmates, who also graduated, to go to your after party you all planned.

Pedro`s POV

I just see her going out the door and I feel so terrible, I can’t even describe it. She was right I shouldn’t have gone to this meeting anyway and if I had taken this whole day off just for her, this all wouldn’t have happened in the first place. I let my hand run through my hair, starting to think how I could make it up to her while walking to my car again.

Y/N’s POV

You went bowling with your former classmates, you had some drinks and ordered pizza, but even if you tried enjoying it, you just couldn’t. You know, its not that your dad didn’t care, you know how sorry he is, but… he really wanted to go to work today. You know he was very happy about the role he got in this series, and you’ve always been understanding.

But just because you’re getting older doesn’t mean that you’re more comfortable with being alone and having less time with your parent, because your inner child, that wants to be with his parents, will always be in your heart.

The evening passes quickly, you go out and you already see your dad with his car to pick you up. You say goodbye to your best friend and get into his car, just being silent. You don’t want to talk right now. You take off your graduating cap, waiting for him to start driving.

You know he wants to say something, but he also knows that you don’t want to talk about it, and he respects it. He starts the engine and drives off. You just look out of the window, looking at the stars. After a while you notice that’s not the way home, you get confused. He stops in front of your school and gets out of the car. “Please come with me”, he says in a calm voice while he’s holding your graduation cap in his hand. You sigh and get out of the car, starting to follow him.

As you follow him, you notice that you’re going back into the hall, where you’re graduation ceremony was. “Why are we here?” You ask him confused, tired of the whole day. You stand in front of the stage, that’s when he turns to you, handing you your sheets, where your speech is written on. “Read it to me.” He says pleadingly. You look up to him, that’s when he puts your graduation cap on your head again. “Please, mija… read it to me.” He whispers and you feel how your eyes start to water, looking directly on the ground again. You just stay silent for a couple of minutes.

 “Okay…” You whisper back, while going slowly on the stage again. He takes a seat in the audience in front of you and you’re getting nervous, even more nervous when your graduation ceremony was. “Its okay, darling. It’s only you and me.”, he says to you with a smile. You can’t hide a slight smile from your lips, take a deep breath and start reading out your speech.

You start talking about your school time, your friends, the teachers and just about the whole school years. At the end, you come to your favorite part.

“All this, I wouldn’t have done without my dad. He was the one who always tried to help me with my homework if I didn’t understood it, he was comforting me at night, when I had nightmares, he comforted me with my anxiety and he had always given me courage to do what I love. Since I can imagine, it has always been us, just me and him. You all know him as the Mandalorian, Oberyn Martell and just as a famous actor. But I know him as my dad, and…” You start crying, gasping a little bit for air, but you pull yourself together.

“he’s just the best dad I could ever dream of.” I finish while looking at him. I see tears running down his cheeks too and he directly comes onto the stage, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Oh, mi cariño… That was beautiful…”, you hear him mumbling while caressing your hair. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there on this important day, you’re right, I should have stayed home with you… I’m so sorry, my love…” He says sobbing and you just hug him tightly. “It’s okay, dad… This was even better.” You say smiling while he lets go of you, taking your hands and looking you directly into your eyes and says.

“Only you and me.”

[sequinsmile-x]

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Fifty One

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends,

As always, thank you so much for your love on this fic! Now we are past chapter 50 it felt like time for another new banner, so I hope you like it!

Also, this chapter of SGW makes my overall word count on AO3 tip over into 1.7 million....which is absurd. That means I am now about 35k words away from having written more words for Hotchniss than there are words in the entire Game of Thrones 'A Song of Fire and Ice' series!! Again...absurd haha

Whilst this chapter, and the next couple in this story, are quite domestic and fluffy....we do have some more drama and hurt/comfort to come.

Please do let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 2.9k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List and will be updated as we go along.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily blows out a steady breath as she lifts Lily out of her car seat and holds her against her chest. 

“You ready?”

She turns to look at Aaron, the understanding smile on his face going some way to make her feel slightly less ridiculous, but not entirely curing the mix of anxiety and guilt swirling in her gut. 

It was her first day back at work. The past few months had flown by. The days had been long, sometimes drawn out with very little sleep and a type of exhaustion she hadn’t known existed, but now looking back on it she couldn’t believe her maternity leave was over. Surgery and a traumatic birth she knew she still hadn’t entirely processed felt like they had happened both a lifetime ago and just yesterday simultaneously. 

Emily nods tightly, even though she feels anything but, and she watches as he grabs the diaper bag out of the back of her car and then closes the door for her. They’d driven in separately since he had to go straight to the jet once they dropped off Lily for her first day in daycare. Emily had heard something she refused to call panic rise up in her chest as she was making sure she’d packed enough milk for Lily when she heard Aaron’s phone ring. A call at that time in the morning only ever meant one thing - a case, and the thought of dropping their little girl off for the first time, by herself, made her more anxious than staring down a serial killer ever had. 

She was sure she’d never loved her husband more than when she heard him say he’d meet the team on the jet, that he had something important to do first. It was one of the moments when she was strangely grateful that she was his second wife, his second chance. He had taken the lessons he’d learnt from the mistakes in his marriage to Haley and was doing what he could to make things right now. 

Aaron wraps his arm around Emily, his hand on her shoulder as he guides her into the daycare centre. It was the best one in the state, something that made him feel infinitely better about leaving his little girl here, and mercifully close to work. He knew this was one of the occasions when he had to be the strong one. All of Emily’s nerves and doubts, things that she only let him see, were just beneath her skin, her whole body vibrating with them if he looked close enough. He could push his own feelings down so he could assure her that everything would be fine, that their daughter would spend her day with people trained to look after her. 

He smiles as the daycare director approaches them. They’d met her, a kind woman called Jane Martin, once when they came to register Lily. There was an air of reassurance to her, something that seemed unflappable, but Aaron knew that would do nothing to help his wife through the next few minutes. 

“Mr and Mrs Hotchner,” Jane says, her smile wide as she walks over, “It’s so lovely to see you,” she turns her attention to Lily, the baby still snuggled in her mother’s arms, “And hello Lily, you somehow got even prettier than the last time I saw you.” 

In any other circumstances, Aaron is sure he’d laugh at how his wife holds Lily even tighter, an unnecessary defence mechanism towards the woman they were paying to look after her. He knows now isn’t the time and he clears his throat to cover it, passing the diaper bag over to Jane. 

“She ate about 45 minutes ago,” he says, returning his hand to his wife’s lower back, his palm warm through her shirt, “And we’ve labelled the milk up as you instructed.”

Jane nods as she hangs the bag over her shoulder, “I’ll make sure it all gets put in the fridge,” she says, turning back to look at Emily, who was still holding Lily as if she was going to be snatched from her. Jane’s smile turns sympathetic, and Aaron is sure this is something she sees on a daily basis, “Well Lily,” she says, stepping closer, “I think Mommy and Daddy need to go to work.” 

There’s a moment of silence, and Emily feels her throat go dry, her heartbeat loud in her head. It was ridiculous, a pull she didn’t understand, but all she wanted to do was run out the front door and take her baby with her. She knew she needed to do this, that her work was part of who she was, part that she had missed in the last few months, but right now, the part of her that wanted to keep her daughter with her at all times was threatening to win out. 

“Sweetheart?” 

Aaron’s voice and the way his touch on her back gets more insistence draws her back into the moment, and she clears her throat and nods. She tilts her head down to look at Lily, her heart seizing in her chest as her little girl smiles at her. She kisses her forehead and then her cheek, breathing her in like it wouldn’t be a matter of hours until she sees her again.

“Mommy loves you very much,” she says, her lips still pressed against her daughter’s soft cheek, “And I’ll be back to pick you up later, okay?” She kisses her again and pulls back, her lips shaking as she smiles, “I love you.” 

Aaron smiles at the sight of them together, something he could never tire of, and his eyebrows start to furrow as he realises his wife is making absolutely no attempt to hand the baby over to either him or Jane. He clears his throat, getting his wife’s attention, “Em-”

“I think you’re going to have to take her from me,” she says, her voice cracking slightly, a sure sign she would lose control of her emotions the second they stepped out into the parking lot, “I…I can’t let go.” 

He nods, briefly squeezing her hip to let her know he understood, and then he reaches for Lily, “Come here Lily-pad,” he says, noting the distinct lack of his wife’s chastisement that usually followed his use of the nickname she hates. He takes a moment to hold Lily close, to press a kiss to her cheek, his heart clenching in his chest as she giggles, one of his favourite sounds in the world, “Daddy loves you too, and I’ll be home as soon as I can.” 

He smiles at Jane as he passes Lily to her, his fingers twitching to take her back as soon as she’s no longer in his embrace. Instead, he wraps his arm around his wife, holding her slightly tighter than he usually would in a public setting just in case she tried to bolt. 

“You have our numbers if you need anything,” Emily says, her eyes fixed on her daughter as she speaks to Jane, “I’ll just be a few miles away, I can come any time.” 

Jane nods patiently, once again obviously very used to this, to the difficulty parents had in letting go, and she smiles, “Of course Mrs Hotchner,” she shifts Lily so she’s facing them a little better, holding her tiny wrist up and helping her wave at her parents, “Say bye bye Lily.”

Emily and Aaron say goodbye simultaneously and she feels rooted to the spot until Aaron starts to turn her, his hand gentle but firm on her as he guides her back into the parking lot. As soon as the door is closed, as soon as they are alone, she wraps her arms around him tightly, sinking into the comfort he willingly gives her. 

“She’ll be fine, baby,” he assures her, stamping a kiss to the side of her head as he runs a hand up and down her back, “We picked this place because it’s the best, remember?” 

She nods against him and sniffs. She pulls back and wipes a stray tear from her cheek, shaking her head at herself as she does so, “I feel ridiculous for crying,” she says, an edge of frustration in her voice. She looks back into the building but she can’t see Lily anymore and she blows out a breath, “It’s stupid but I miss her already.”

“It isn’t ridiculous or stupid,” he assures her, wiping a tear from her cheek as he cups it to make her look at him, “I feel the same way. Do you want to know why?” He asks and she nods, drawing a small smile out of him, “It’s because we’re her parents.”

She chuckles humourlessly, “Does it get any easier?” 

Even though she missed Jack whenever he wasn’t around, this felt different. It had always been a part of her relationship with the boy she loved as her own - saying hello and then see you soon, something she was used to. She’d never been separated from Lily for more than a couple of hours at most, and she’d missed her every second. 

“No,” Aaron says, wiping another tear from her face, smiling when she frowns at him, “It doesn’t.” 

She scoffs, “You couldn’t lie to me?” 

He leans in and presses a kiss to her lips, “Never have, never will.” 

She hums and leans into him, wrapping her arms around his middle as she rests her cheek against his jacket, any usual concerns about getting make up on his suit nowhere to be found. 

“Tell me something good?”

He smiles and cups the back of her head, his fingers tangled in hair she still complained was too short, “In a few hours you’ll go pick her up and you’ll be able to tell her all about how amazing your first day at work was, and how her mommy is a superhero.” 

She pulls back and smiles at him, biting on the inside of her cheek in an attempt to contain it, “You’re sweet,” she checks the time on her watch over his shoulder, “And you’re also late.” 

He kisses her again, “You’re sure you’re okay?” 

She nods, even though she’s not sure, and she kisses him before she pulls back, “I’ll be fine,” she says as she steps towards her car, “Be safe. I love you.” 

“Love you too,” he replies, digging his keys out of his pocket, “Let me know how your first day goes.” 

She winks at him and blows him a kiss as she gets into her car. She pulls the door closed behind her and spots the empty car seat in her rearview mirror. She closes her eyes and gives herself a moment, blowing out a slow steady breath as she tries to force herself from the mindset she’d been in for weeks into the one she’d had for years. 

She opens her eyes and looks at the car seat’s reflection again before meeting her own eyes in the mirror. She was Emily Hotchner, wife and mother, and she had to remember how to be Emily Prentiss, FBI Special Agent all over again.

She just hoped the day would come when she’d be able to feel like both without feeling like she was failing at one of them. 

___

Emily is torn from sleep by a familiar sound, her daughter’s cries waking her up what felt like mere minutes after she’d finally drifted off. She struggled to sleep without Aaron next to her, the warmth of his body, the safety of his embrace, allowing her to relax and rest in ways she would have once thought impossible. She missed him when he was away on cases, the luxury they’d once had of always being together when she was still on the team something that was in the past.

Her first day back at work had been good. It felt strange to be part of a new team, to get to know people whose faces she’d seen before around the office but had never spoken to more than polite conversation in the kitchen or elevator. She felt out of sorts and out of practice, trying to balance proving her worth, something her language skills had done almost immediately like when she joined the BAU, and pumping milk in the bathroom before her breasts felt like they were going to explode. 

The relief she’d felt at the end of the day when she’d picked Lily up was palpable. A tightness in her chest that had only loosened the second she saw her little girl, when she held her in her arms. Aaron had called at the time he knew they’d be getting home even though he was busy with work trying to pin down a spree killer in the midwest. 

Emily groans as she sits up, blearily rubbing her eyes as she looks at the time, noting it had only been about 90 minutes since she’d last checked it.  She smiles at Lily as she leans over the bassinet and picks her up, shushing the infant by instinct, her lips against her forehead as she settles back onto the bed with her daughter on her chest. 

“Mommy’s got you, sweet girl,” she says, whispering even though it was only the two of them in the house, both of them now awake despite the unsociable hour, “What’s wrong, huh?” Lily continues to cry, one of her tiny fists in her mouth as she turns her head towards Emily’s chest. Emily chuckles softly as she adjusts her hold on the baby, unbuttoning her pyjama shirt so she can start to feed her daughter, “Daddy always says you’re like me,” she says, shifting Lily so latches on, the sensation, although still painful at times, was something Emily was used to now, the strangeness that had once existed with it long gone, “But he’s always hungry just like you,” she says, stroking Lily’s cheek, “And you both have a thing for my breasts.” 

She leans back against the headrest and lets out a yawn, her eyes fixed on her daughter as she eats. When it was just the two of them like this she couldn’t help but wonder about what it was like when she was as young as Lily. If her mother had woken up in the night with her, or if the nannies Emily remembered from her earliest memories had always been around. There were so many gaps in her knowledge of when she was a baby, questions she’d never been able to ask her mother, their relationship not one that allowed for queries about whether she’d been breastfed or not, whether she’d been fussy or slept through the night. It was hard to imagine either of her parents getting up with her, impossible to picture them exhausted as the baby who turned out to be their only child kept them up all night. 

She couldn’t picture them looking at her the way she looked at Lily, awe and love and adoration seeping out of every pore no matter the time of day or night. 

She knew her parents loved her, that there must have been joy somewhere along the line. Excitement when they realised they were having a baby, relief when she was born safely despite her slightly early arrival, but that knowledge made everything worse. They’d both chosen something else over her, whether it be a new life completely or alcohol, and she couldn’t imagine ever doing that with Lily or Jack, or any other children that she may have. They would always be her priority, and she would spend her whole life making sure they knew that. 

Emily sighs as she feels the guilt from that morning return, the burning feeling in her chest she was sure she would get used to. A phantom sensation she’d only ever realise was there when she paid attention to it. 

“Mommy loves you so much,” she says, smiling at the sight of an increasingly sleepy Lily, the baby milk drunk as she pulls away from her mother’s chest, seemingly full for now. Emily lifts her so she's against her shoulder, gently patting her back as she kisses her temple, “I hope you never doubt that for a second.” 

She smiles as her response is a burp, and she kisses Lily’s temple again before she sits up, placing her back in her bassinet. Emily yawns as she re-buttons her pyjama shirt unevenly, not caring enough to start again, and she lays back down. Her phone vibrates and she picks it up, squinting at the bright light as she reads a text from her husband on the screen. 

Hope you are asleep. We got the unsub, I should be home with you by morning. Love you. 

She smiles as she types out a quick response, locking her phone and placing it down on the nightstand before she snuggles back into the covers, breathing in the scent of her and her husband on their sheets. 

Love you too. If you wake our daughter up when you open the front door we’re never having sex again. 

-x-

Tag List:

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[tilbageidanmark]

MOVIES I WATCHED THIS WEEK #210:

JOHN MALKOVICH X 5:

🍿 MR. BLAKE AT YOUR SERVICE! (2023) is a comfy, Christmas'y fantasy, like a feel-good Hallmark-type fairy tale. Depressed, newly-widowed Malkovich travels to the scenic French chateaux where he first met his wife many years before, and on a whim takes a position as a butler there. It's Architectural Design tourist-porn, helped by chateaux owner Fanny Ardant, her cook Émilie Dequenne [who was the mother in 'Close'], one big fluffy cat, and Frank Sinatra singing 'For once in my life'. The only problem is that he speaks French with a strange British accent.

It's a feature directorial debut by its famous French writer. 💯 score on Rotten Tomatoes.

🍿 "Today I learnt" about erudite Chilean director Raúl Ruiz. TIME REGAINED, his 1999 adaptation of Marcel Proust's novel 'À la recherche du temps perdu', is my first film directed by him. (But I'm going to check out some of his other 118(!) films, made mostly in exile in France.)

I only read Swann's Way', the first volume of this 4,215 pages classic, so I'm no expert. This long, meditative and meandering description of the French high-society at the turn of the 20th century is breath-taking gorgeous, and very "Proustian". (Screenshots Above). Plot-less, elusive and poetic, it stars Catherine Deneuve as well her two children, 'Manon of the Spring', and John Malkovich as the striking gay Le Baron de Charlus. "Too much beauty can be painful". 8/10.

🍿 I'M GOING HOME (2001), also my first subtle drama by Portuguese Manoel de Oliveira [who started making movies in 1927 at 19, and who made his last film in 2015 at the age of 107!].

Old man Michel Piccoli is the grand master of the stage, taking on the roles of kings in Ionesco and Shakespeare. But then he gets the news that his wife, daughter and son-in-law all died in a car accident. Catherine Deneuve and John Malkovich have only minor parts to play in this story about mortality and the exact moment when grief finds us. Paris is the other star of the plot. And now I have 65 more films by de Oliveira on my watch list! 7/10.

🍿 "Tell me about yourself - Well, I'm a puppeteer... Check, please!"

I haven't seen BEING JOHN MALKOVICH for quiet some time, and nearly forgot how original and how very laugh-out funny it was. I envy the person who never heard of it, and who will watch it for the first time: So many surprises in stores for them. And that Keener lady, Wow! Of the six films written by Charlie Kaufman I had seen, this one actually is the only one that I like wholeheartedly. 8/10. Re-watch ♻️.

🍿 "Power is nothing without control"...

In Antoine Fuqua's 2006 Vatican-horror short THE CALL, some Italian race-car is a deviled soul, Naomi Campbell is Satan, and Malkovich is the exorcist priest who is called to rid it of her demons. But then it's just a cliche-ridden advertisement for Pirelli tires. 1/10.

🍿

"You were right. Love is so simple."

First watch: Marcel Carné's poetic romance CHILDREN OF PARADISE, set in the spectacular theatrical world of 1830s Paris. It tells of a "courtesan" and the 4 men who love her. Epic joy, rich elegance, and soaring emotions. Produced under impossible conditions in Vichy during the last 3 years of the occupation. It's the French 'Gone with the wind'.

🍿

In a week full with with Proust, Marcel Carné, Spike Jonze, & Alfred Hitchcock, the random pick KAMOME DINER (2006) was my most enjoyable comfort film experience!

A Japanese woman opens a small Japanese diner in a quiet side street in Helsinki, hoping to sell Onigiri (Rice balls), but during her first month, not a single customer visits the place. Sounds like an Aki Kaurismäki story perhaps, but it's anything but. From the very first adorable scenes, it just knocked me out happy. The restaurant eventually gets a few regular visitors trickling in, as well as an assortment of other Japanese women who somehow got lost in Finland. But the movie is not strictly a Food-Film. And it ends with Yusui Inoue singing Crazy Love over the credits!

Here is The trailer. 9/10. I'm going to look for Naoko Ogigami's other movies! [*Female Director*]

🍿

"In the United States, there has never been the recognition of class conflict, class struggle..."

HOWARD ZINN: THE PEOPLE'S HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES (2016) is a French documentary summarizing the radical historian's famous book (up to 1919). It interviews Noam Chomsky and Chris Hedges, and talks about many of the anti-capitalist heroes, the anarchists, socialists and communists, from Jacob Riis and Emma Goldman to Mother Jones and Eugene Debs. It touches on many progressive ideals that industrialization brought, the pro-labor movement, class consciousnesses, women's rights, pacifism, Etc. Also, it demonstrates how the capitalist moneyed elite fought to crush it every step of the way and in every generation. In short, it's a valued explanation of the American "Left", and the values it fought for, which are now seem lost forever.

But it executes it in amateurish and unconvincing way. It tries to emulate the broad Ken Burns 'Look and Feel', and comes up disappointingly short. 3/10.

🍿

3 SHORTS BY THANASIS NEOFOTISTOS:

🍿 PATISION AVENUE (2018) is a riveting one-shot thriller. A single mother is walking to an audition in the center of Athens, when she learns that the babysitter had left her young son home alone. We never see her face or learn her name, but what started as a personal triviality, turns politically tense. 7/10.

🍿 "Smile, though your heart is aching"... In AIRHOSTESS-737 (2022) a flight attendant is stressed over her new, ill-fitting braces. But her anxiety is caused by a deeper wound. 7/10.

🍿 ROUTE-3 (2019) plays in a crowded, sweaty tram in Sarajevo. A creepy teen can't stop gawking at a pretty Hijab-covered girl reading a book. In all his films, Neofotistos handles space in the same distinct way: Focusing on an individual or a face, he lets details in the background call for attention, whether it's the other passengers on the same tram car, the airplane cabin or the noises on the street.

Extra:

It's time that I re-discover the works of Theo Angelopoulos. And other interesting Greek movies. But until then, here's AS YOU SLEEP THE WORLD EMPTIES. A boy composes a video letter to a girl he fell in love with, just before the sleeping pandemic started. Now nearly everybody is gone or asleep, the roads are empty, she is no longer there either. All that will be left is this one letter.

🍿

[Following up on my friend HootsMguire recommendations], THE 10TH VICTIM (1965) is my third by Italian political satirist Elio Petri. Unfortunately, I picked a science fiction story about a televised death-match in the year 2979, like 'The Hunger Games' and 'The running man'. It was also mixed with low-rent James Bond trops, which are also not too appealing to me. There's a outdated battle of the sexes / romance between bleached-blond playboy Marcello Mastroianni and semi-nude Ursula Andress shooting bullets out of her bra while they are tying to kill each other. The visuals are striking, with a Rudi Gernreich's kitschy op-art/pop-art vision that hovers over the futuristic architecture, whacked-out fashion, style and feel. But any critical subtext (which isgwhat interests my friend the most) passed way over my head. 2/10.

🍿

4 WITH ROBERT CUMMINGS:

🍿 Another first watch: Hitchcock's 1954 DIAL M FOR MURDER, with the un-glamorous Grace Kelly, stripped in the 3rd act into a plain-looking convicted felon. A stagey, single-location crime thriller, fueled solely by dialogue, and one graphic murder by scissors. The tiny key details were important in an improbable way: Was the exchanged key left in the purse? Were the pound bills traceable? Why did she wait to call the police? Originally made in a 3D version.

🍿 In the early television version of 12 ANGRY MEN, Cummings had the role that Henry Fonda played 3 years later as 'Juror No. 8". Two actors (including 'Juror No. 9, the 'Old Man") played in both productions. Still with an all-male cast (since women were not allowed to serve on jury duty at that time), and still referring to the accused killer as "One of them" without further explanations as to who "They" are.

Not as perfect as the famous Sidney Lumet film, it was more condensed, and interrupted constantly by advertisements for various Westinghouse electric products.

🍿 "What are you doing after the orgy?"

WHAT A WAY TO GO! (1964) is an infectious and absurdly-silly comedy with pixie dream girl Shirley MacLaine at the peak of her cuteness.

It's stacked to the rafters with an all star cast; Paul Newman the bohemian painter, Robert Mitchum the mogul, Dean Martin, Gene Kelly, Dick Van Dyke, Freudian psychoanalyst Robert Cummings, and even Margaret Dumont in her last role as the greedy mother. Idealistic and unlucky MacLaine is widowed 4 times. All she was looking for was to love a man who's not consumed by money. But each of her husbands become extremely wealthy, and then they all die, leaving her with all their loot. It pretends to promote an anti-consumerism, anti-capitalist message, but it doesn't really. It's really stupid, with a bunch of ridiculous, campy scenes (like f.ex. this tap dance number). 7/10.

🍿 In the Laurel and Hardy pre-Code comedy SONS OF THE DESERT Cumming went un-credited as the voice of the steamship announcer. I consider this duo of adult-size toddlers the least funny of the old time comic greats, but this one had a good story, and some good gags. Fez-wearing Fraternal Organizations and their lodges and conventions inhabited a different weird universe. The best scene in the movie was the Honolulu Hula Baby dance number.

🍿

I saw a wonderful tap-dancing number by one Ken "Snakehips" Johnson, a black British swing band leader [who later died in the Blitz while performing at a Jazz club]. It was a clip from OH, DADDY!, a 1935 Islington Studio comedy. This sub-par satire deals with the "Moral Police", stuffy members of a village "Purity League", who travel to London to watch scantily-clad revue dancers, and engage in unbecoming enterprises like drinking champagne and seducing said naughty dancers. Prurient sinners, hypocritical puritans, and conservative values, it's all there. In the end, the only half-decent parts of this trifle were that tap-dance clip and the so-so nightclub dance numbers.

Oh, and the 18 year old ingenue that the old man was trying to fuck? It was his step-daughter! Ha ha, what a riot... 1/10.

🍿

5 FIRST FILMS BY...

🍿 MULTI-FACIAL (1995), my second film starring Vin Diesel [after 'Saving Private Ryan']. Surprisingly, it was also the first film he wrote, directed, scored and produced himself. A moving revelation, him playing a struggling multi-racial actor going on numerous auditions, without any success. Changing his act on a dime to mimic Scarface, to mimic Rocky, a black rapper. Absolutely fantastic, and this week's unexpected surprise - 9/10.

🍿 I believed that I had seen all of Lynne Ramsey's heartbreaking output, but discovered her very first dark short, SMALL DEATHS from 1996. Like the rest of her traumatic oeuvre, a young girl is experiencing quiet neglect, hurt and disappointment.

I can't wait for her two new features, 'Die, my love' and 'Stone mattress'.

🍿 Abbas Kiarostami's first film from 1970, THE BREAD AND ALLEY about a small boy returning home from purchasing bread who has to confront a barking dog. Opens with (surely pirated) score of Ob-La-di-Ob-La-Da.

🍿 In Céline Sciamma's first film from 2009, PAULINE, a young woman describes how she felt growing up in a small village, slowly discovering her same-sex orientation and being shunned by her whole family. It is told in one static shot.

(Sciamma still maintains her own, fairly active YouTube channel!)

🍿 FEAST won the 2014 Oscar for short animation. Sweetly, wordlessly and economically, it tells of the meals that a stray Boston Terrier puppy is eating. It's absolutely adorable, in spite of the fact that it was made by Disney. 9/10.

Extra: DUET was another short nominated for the same prize at the same year. Similar love story of a boy and a girl growing up together, told in simple, minimalist sketches.

Extra # 2: Bill Plympton's FOOTPRINTS, another 2014 nominee. A man wakes up to the sound of broken glass, and is searching for the monster that he fears intruded on his sleep.

Extra # 3: Feast's director, Patrick Osborne's next film was PEARL, which also was nominated for an Oscar in 2016. It's about a single dad and his daughter told from the point of view of an old hatchback that witnessed how they traveled through the years.

(OH NO! Osborne is now in the process of directing the magical mobile game 'Monument Valley'!) It will surely suck!

🍿

While waiting for Laura Nix's newest documentary 'Democracy Under Siege', her WALK RUN CHA-CHA is a good sample of what to expect: A 'ordinary' 60-something couple who escaped from the aftermath of the Vietnam war to California, love to dance the Cha-cha. Oscar-nominated in 2020. [*Female Director*]

🍿

4 LESS-KNOWN, SHORTER FILMS BY TERRY GILLIAM:

🍿 In 2011, during his eternal struggle to secure funding for his many Quixotic, unrealized projects, Gilliam took a commission from an Italian spaghetti manufacturer, to make the 20-min. THE WHOLLY FAMILY (In Italian - Here in English, but at a lower resolution).

It's an unsettling Commedia dell'arte advertising, a Felliniesque nightmare. A 10yo boy visiting Napoli with his bickering parents steals a Pulcinella figure at the open market, because he's told that stealing it will bring him good luck. Surreal clown factory, typical to Gilliam.

🍿 "I've never seen anything like this!!..."

Another of his paid-for "Branded Content Films", THE LEGEND OF HALLOWDEGA (2010), but of a truly low-quality. A paranormal Mockumentary about the ancient Indian mysteries which haunt the Talladega Superspeedway. 1/10.

🍿 STORY TIME (1979) was a typical Python-style shenanigan, a silly combination of a cockroach named Don, a giant foot that squishes it, Albert Einstein's very good hands dancing the tango, 3 wise men, Victorian greeting cards, fart sounds, Etc. Etc. All irreverent and un-serious.

🍿 THE MIRACLE OF FLIGHT (1974) a cutout animation about the invention of flying.

🍿

I'M SO HAPPY is the latest stand-up special from Craig Ferguson. It started a bit slow with lots of old men Boomer stuff and Covid jokes, but ended up funny and endearing. He's a good clown.

🍿

THROW-BACK TO THE ADORA ART PROJECT:  

John Malkovich Adora.

🍿

(ALL MY FILM REVIEWS - HERE).

[themasksheraid]

Name: Jovi Marie DiCamillo

Nickname(s): N/A

DOB: April 22

Age: 25

FC: Kathryn Newton

Height: 5'5"

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Straight

Occupation: Employee at Frosty Boys & ballerina

New Greenview resident; lives in town

Relationship Status: Single (closed)

Jovi is the youngest of 3, all girls, and while she’s always tended to be her father’s favorite, something about that title makes her mother detest her. 

Born to a Southern gentleman father and a ballerina mother and raised in the great state of Texas, she was extremely spoiled growing up with her father caving and giving her just about anything and everything she wanted which often earned grumbles and glares from her mother.

The favoritism also resulted in hushed and harsh conversations behind closed doors. 

She was a lazy child, never really learning the meaning of a dollar, but was perfectly poised in public.

She didn’t like school, but she wasn’t bad at it; as long as she got decent grades, her father would reward her.

Jovi was happiest when she was at home on her father's ranch, tending to or riding the horses - and for her 14th birthday, she was gifted a horse of her own.

On her 16th birthday, her father bought her a car that caused a huge fight between her parents which caused them to spend few days apart.

Jovi’s mother went to spend a couple nights at a hotel while her father stayed home with the girls, insisting to Jovi that her mother was just overreacting and everything was fine.

This wasn’t the first time Jovi felt like she hated her mother, but it was one of the most memorable.

As a teenager, Jovi often got in trouble for sneaking out to meet up with boys or going to parties with her friends, having many different boyfriends, and rarely showing remorse if she set her sights on someone who was already spoken for. 

Growing up spoiled gave her a complex, and she felt entitled to whatever attention and affection she could get. 

Jovi knew she was pretty, and knew exactly how to act, dress and what to say to get her way. 

Other than her close group of friends, most of the girls at school didn’t really like her, and she couldn't really seem to make girl friends out of school, either.

The only thing it seemed like Jovi and her mother could agree on was ballet. 

Since Jovi was 3, she’d been taking lessons, and it was something she’d grown to love very much.

Jovi's mother had been a ballerina before she got pregnant with her oldest daughter and had to give it up; the other two DiCamillo girls didn't take to ballet the way Jovi did however. 

It was the only time her mother ever showed her favor, or even praise, and it wasn’t the only reason Jovi continued to work hard at it, but it didn’t hurt, either.

Jovi is basically just living out the life her mother couldn’t have and everyone knows it

Often sat by while her mom got in screaming matches with directors and teachers about her role in a performance; she didn’t want to be involved but it put a huge stigma on her and she didn’t have a lot of friends.

Her talent - which stems from a lot of hard work - tends to keep people from liking her, and they spread rumors about her sleeping with instructors or directors to get the leads in shows, and Jovi hated it.

Ranching wasn't the only thing her father did; he was an accomplished franchise owner, and he was given the opportunity to open a new on in Maine.

He was a hands on man and decided to move there, and Jovi insisted she come with, needing a break from her mother and the girls at the ballet studio that were giving her a hard time.

Moving to Greenview was like a clean start for her, though her father insisted she get a job to keep herself occupied.

Jovi has been in town for about 5 years now, and she's made a very comfortable life for herself.

She still loves to party and finds every opportunity to go out with friends and insists she can drink anyone under the table but it's mostly an excuse to chat up cute guys.

She still dances when she finds the time, and seeks out horse stables to ride when she's feeling particularly homesick.

As long as her father is living in Greenview - and her parents seem to have a much stronger relationship while they're away from each other - Jovi plans on sticking around too.

[sannylity]

with all the information we now have about the Artistic Director x Prostitute AU, what do you imagine that the finished product/show would wind up being?? i have no fucking idea what it would be. thinking about it being a romantic tragedy (like romeo and juliet) with a happy ending (unlike romeo and juliet)

also mariana being good with kids is just so fucking sweet!! i was imagining charlie being like "hey i need to go pick someone up, but they'll have to stick around until rehearsal ends, is that fine?" and marianas like "yeah okay." and it was half an excuse to get away from the director and half because he actually needed to pick up juanaflippa from afterschool care. he could only pay for so much time that people could watch her after school.

so she got buckled up and he was like "ok flippa, we need to head back to where papa's working for now, because its vital- that means important- that im there, and uncle wilbur will be busy with the band today, so he cant watch you, okay?" she just nods excitedly and uses sign language to say 'where are we going?' he smiles and starts the car back up. 'the theater.'

meanwhile marianas helping direct some of the smaller scenes- charlie and/or her wont be in all of them, of course- and its been a hot minute, so hes actually starting to worry about if charlie had run off-

"hey guys, i'm back! sorry that took so long, the afterschool care receptionist was a bitch." the others are excited to see charlie back, and get even more curious when they notice the little figure hiding behind his leg. "aw, come on mi huevita, don't be shy!" the girl steps out from behind him and starts writing on a paper, holding it up for everyone to see. 'hi everyone! my name is juanaflippa! sorry i took away papa, he needed to pick me up!' everyone melts, and mariana looks over, confused.

"ey, i know slime is back, but-" then she sees the little girl looking over at him, and trans bilingual recognizes trans bilingual.

idk idk maybe im just being too goofy silly about this au grgrgrgrgr

-💫

Hello again 💫 anon!!

Hmm… To answer your question, I find Mariana’s plays would be dark and tragic and this may just be his first try on romance that’s why he is the most picky and particular in choosing the main protagonist. I like the juxtaposition of him falling in love with Charlie as something more precious and delicate while producing something dark and twisted and sensual and ambitious and ultimately tragic :D. Y’know like how a sweet man like Guillermo Del Toro produces cryptic and dark horrors before? That’s kinda like Mariana lmaoo

I feel like while Mariana is strict and very serious with his work, he completely melts around children (his nephew Bobby), but especially with Juanaflippa.

Their first time meeting is definitely out of Charlie’s control because he has been keeping his work and personal life completely separate because he didn’t trust Mariana (yet). But let’s say his usual babysitter got sick, so he had to dreadfully bring Juanaflippa with him to work and she does something that completely catches everyone off guard. Like, running up to Mariana, hugging his leg and calling him her mama lol

Charlie is mortified and tries to salvage the embarrassing moment but Mariana is absolutely endeared and before Charlie could pry her off his leg, Mariana picks her up and it’s like they get lost in their own little world.

It’s the first time something like that happened and Charlie watches the pair with wide eyes. Soon, almost immediately enamored when Mariana makes Juanaflippa laugh and all he could do is throw caution in the wind and join them.

Needless to say, the cast and crew are shocked that stone cold artistic director is playing house with his co-star and his daughter.

From there, everything runs seamlessly between them once break was over and they return to their scenes.

And don’t worry about being goofy and silly, it’s part of the charm in coming up with your own ideas <3

[dastardlydandelion]

SPOILER! SCREAM 6 REVIEW WITH SPOILERS! DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T WANT SPOILERS ALSO I AM HIGH.

my thoughts and feelings on scream vi. i have a lot of them!

boy howdy, that was a ride! so overall I enjoyed it a lot! gonna start out with the positives before i leap into the negatives.

spoilers under the cut!!!

my favorite part was the carpenter sisters, by far. i am aware that there are plenty of people who dislike sam. that’s valid, obvi, people are entitled to their opinions. nevertheless, i do feel like a lot of the hate directed toward her is honestly unfair. hate from billy/sydney shippers who cannot conceive billy having cheated on her even tho he was like, a literal murderer. said shippers angry that their conspiracy theories about sam being sydney’s daughter are just blatantly untrue bc sam is latina, the stu/billy shippers angry that billy evidently enjoyed sex with women outside of using sex to manipulate syd, etc. these are kinda stupid reasons to hate sam, u guys.

now, others were not a fan of sam bc they didn’t care for melissa barrera’s performance in scream 5 and ykw, fair enough. HOWEVER, i would like to interject here that i am personally more forgiving toward some of her wonkier scenes bc i understand what the directors were going for. scream 2022 is a fan movie and sam is a fanfic character brought to screen. her dialogue is what u would read in a middle schooler’s fanfic and that’s…weird but nostalgic, so i get it. this movie was swaddled in nostalgia. also we have to understand sam as a character who intentionally represses her emotions bc of her internal proclivity for violence. much of her performance is restrained until act 3 and while i 100% understand why this didn’t work for some people, it didn’t bother me personally bc i’m sympathetic to the intent behind it.

i was supposed to be spilling my thoughts about scream vi and instead just went off on a tangent about 5. bc context needs context and i can never get to the point without detours and most of my detours involve giving context to the context or covering my bases, for those who potentially wish to poke holes…

ANYWAY. i genuinely enjoyed sam and tara in scream 5. some of my biggest beefs with 5 were the changes to the initial script that decreased the tension between the sisters and robbed us of their familial context. ykw, like amber and tara being romantically involved + amber and sam’s mutual dislike of each other, which would’ve layered amber’s motivations as well as added to the conflict between the sisters. the originally scripted scenes with their mother drunkenly displaying her fear of sam, particularly her fear of sam harming tara, which would’ve helped the audience understand why sam was desperate to leave woodsboro and why sam represses herself so heavily…and here i am still talking about scream 5. but my point is i already loved the sisters and i was very much looking forward to them and seeing how their relationship developed in 6.

and it did not disappoint!! oh my lordy. i love how sam just goes completely into mama bear mode over tara!!! it works so well on so many levels. she wants to protect her because for five years she wasn’t even there, because she spent the most horrible three days of her life nearly losing tara, because their mother and tara are now estranged specifically bc tara chose to allow sam back into her life, and bc she feels like she has to be hyper-vigilant bc tara coped in the opposite direction and chose not to deal with what happened at all.

i loved the push and pull between them, how tara clearly loves sam very much but is straining under her smothering and frustrated bc their coping mechanisms clash with the calamity of a car crash. adore how tara defends sam even when she’s upset with her but i think my very favorite thing was at the end when sam HAS PUT ON HER FATHER’S COSTUME LIKE I HAVE WANTED HER TO FOR FUCKING MONTHS AND STABS BAILEY TWENTY TIMES AND ONLY STOPS HERSELF FROM DELIVERING THE FATAL BLOW WHEN SHE HEARS TARA!!!! AND THEN TARA VISIBLY GIVES HER PERMISSION TO KILL HIM SO SHE UNLEASHES IT AND STABS HIM IN THE FUCKING EYEBALL OH MY GOD.

whew, lotta caps lock, but yeah. yeah, no, i was just that excited. tara didn’t even have to say the words, it was the look in her eyes and the soft tilt of the head and sam knew it would be okay. that was so touching. hands down, my favorite scene. <3 <3 <3

also the storyline surrounding sam? perhaps a tad exaggerated in this horror movie context but not at all unlikely or untrue to life.

a woman who only resorted to violence in retaliation to her more dangerous boyfriend’s violence being DARVO-ed by social media? a woman being turned into the monster of the story while internet fans fawn over and infantilize the man who victimized her? a woman who chose violence only to survive vilified while terminally online fans edit flower crowns onto her actually evil boyfriend’s pics and proclaim his innocence in cutesy fonts??

yeah, that’s pretty fucking familiar. this probably would’ve happened to sam even if billy loomis wasn’t her father, her heritage just makes it 10x easier for people to manipulate the story against her.

this is where the social commentary of the movie is a little ambiguous and i actually prefer it that way. are they calling out scream fans? true crime fans? media misogyny? could be any of the above, take ur pick. i personality interpreted it as a combination of all three.

the subtlety on that front was a breath of fresh air considering so much was…not subtle at all. i greatly enjoyed this film and i adore mindy BUT her explaining the new rules of a “franchise,” was a little bit too much. it’s a scream film so there has to be a scene like that, ofc, but it could’ve been shorter and it didn’t have to spoon-feed us that hard.

speaking of subtly? uh, yeah. i mean, unfortunately bc of unmarked spoilers i knew detective bailey and ethan were ghostfaces. i did not, however, know any of the ghostfaces other than these two, nor did I have any idea what their motive was. but between quinn mentioning the death of a brother and sam getting called from richie’s phone? yeaaaaah, that clicked into place pretty damn fast. soo not subtle, but amusing. amusing so i’m not complaining yet, i actually had a laugh.

now i feel like i’m rambling without direction but my goal was to tackle positives first, so more positives?

the core four. love them. the way their relationship developed in this film was warming and believable to me, even if the character interactions were perhaps more abridged than they should’ve been give the rapid-fire pace of the film. mindy and chad are great, easy to love, and mindy especially is so relatable to me. kirby is back and she got screen time!!!

the minor characters? not too many, but the ones that were here somewhat fleshed out the setting. i would love a fanfic where sam kills date rape frankie. also the owner of the bodega, shoutout to that guy. a kind stranger in a city famous for rudeness, he dead ass lost his life trying to help our leading ladies. he looked away from ghostface to get his keys so they could unlock the door. r.i.p bodega owner.

the kills! everyone is raving about the kills and i am also a fan. not without my nitpicks, i wish maybe a couple would’ve been more creative BUT mostly i am pleased. i love gore and there was more gore. the ladder scene delivered on the suspense that was promised to us, oh my. my heart was pounding the entire time and altho were barely got to know anika, i truly felt for her. bleeding, scared, doing her best to hold on, gazing at mindy through a blur of tears and panic as she moans, “I don’t want to die, i don’t want to die.” 😢

that said i was hoping the kills might be a tad more creative? it was mostly just a lot of stabbing. which. yes, ghostface stabs. the franchise is famous for the buck 120, which i can attest is a very sharp knife— i have used it to stab through frozen meat and not only did it go right through the package, the tip of the knife got embedded in the table. which is okay bc it’s an old table with a ton of stains and it’s already beat to hell, but that’s not the point. THE POINT, lmao. unintentional pun, I swear! but idk, i was hoping for some variety especially bc the trailers kept emphasizing that this ghostface was “different.”

many of my predictions were correct but where they did manage to surprise me, they really surprised me! like the first killer unmasking himself right after her killed laura?? i gasped! the choreography of the fights in the shrine, dude! i loved the carpenter sisters + chad taking on the ghostface how they did it as a pack. that was awesome! and then chad is gonna finish ‘I’m off and BOOM, the second one pops out! the way the ghostfaces take chad down was brutal but also, like they’re twinning?? the dual knife swipe was spooky and this is genius when we find out that these two are actually twins. or…I think they are? they’re siblings at least, i wanna think twins bc I’m pretty sure the characters are supposed to be the same age even tho the actress who plays quinn is a few years older irl.

misc fun things: jason watching jason takes manhattan in his apartment. mindy’s fashion sense. kirby eating. ethan is not dressed in blue plaid like the ghostfaces before him, but he is wearing red plaid over a blue shirt, so close enough. nancy loomis finally being acknowledged as sam’s murderous grandma. gale dodging sam’s punch just to get hit by tara, pffft. last but not least, ALL THE HALLOWEEN COSTUMES. 😍

those were all the positives. but balance is balance so as much as i loved this film, i still have to touch on the negatives.

the killers? i was right about the anti-dewey angle, but i’d pegged the wrong pig. kirby reed, i formally apologize for ever suspecting u. i appreciate the anti-dewey angle with detective bailey and that being a cop gives him power and authority that ghostfaces before him did not have. but the motive reveal complicates things and it’s pretty convoluted and too convenient the way these ghostfaces were able to worm into our cautious protagonists’ lives. i know let some things slide because of bailey’s aforementioned social power by virtue of being a cop, but this is over the top. i have so many questions. did the siblings go to college just to follow the survivors? they all have fake names?? how did they find out about jason and greg? how is the *whole* family like this?

ur telling me richie’s entire fam indulged his stab obsession to the point of them not only accepting his being a serial killer, but becoming ghostfaces to honor him in their vengeance driven kill spree??

umm…yeah, this is all a little too kookaburra for me. but i will say i liked their style. i like that they actually seemed to be bringing the costume to life. the ghostface costume was originally packaged in-universe as the “father death” costume, it’s the grim reaper by another name. and these ghost faces were actually kind of swooping around like a reaper, an angel of death. cannot emphasize enough how much i loved the twinning with the knife wipe and just like, having multiple ghostfaces onscreen in general. i am too high right now to look up the actress’s name who played quinn but kudos to her for chewing the scenery once she unmasked. but some of their choices didn’t make sense to me. why did ethan help mindy after quinn wounded her? why was a target put on anika’s back at all??

so…more negatives?

um…let’s talk about suspension of disbelief for a moment. we all have to have some of that when watching slasher films and movies wouldn’t be movies if we expected them to be exactly like real life. i like to think that as long as a movie follows its own logic, i have a pretty healthy suspension of disbelief. i can accept the improbable in the scream ‘verse…but not the impossible.

u know what’s impossible?? chad surviving that. fml. yeah, no, that guy’s internal organs are soup. it’s even a stretch that he survived scream 5 since amber clearly slashed open his femoral artery even before she stabbed his guts, but this???? chad was being carved up by two ghostfaces and blood was dead ass gushing from his mouth like a waterfall. i love chad, truly, i do, but his survival was insane, i can’t accept that.

on that note, i found it frustrating that the injuries in this movie were seemingly only as severe as the storyline wanted them to be. again, it’s a movie so we have to have a level of suspension of disbelief and that’s fair! i can accept people being more durable on the screen than in real life but where they lose me is when they’re keeping semi close to reality in one scene and totally ignoring it in the next. anika loses a lot of blood and is in great pain, which hinders her ability to escape (so she doesn’t). i buy it. gale is stabbed in the abdomen twice, deeply, and loses so much blood she entrusts the carpenter sisters’ with last words, passes out from blood loss, and is in bad shape when paramedics arrive. i buy that. mindy is similarly stabbed in the abdomen multiple times, survives because ethan helps her for some mysterious reason, which I buy…I don’t buy her RUNNING TO THE SHRINE MERE HOURS AFTER.

we have a throwaway line about her being on drugs, but no, i still don’t buy it. story time. my work mom, okay, so she was in a really bad car accident once. running on pure adrenaline, she raced out of the car with broken bones and punched the driver of the other car that hit her. immediately after, she collapsed and guess what? she’d injured herself further by punching this lady. so even if mindy wasn’t feeling her wounds because of the drugs (which i could buy easily enough), no responsible hospital would allow her to run wild like that.

at the shrine tara is stabbed UP TO THE HANDLE IN THE BACK and it doesn’t?? effect her like at all? okay, okay, i could possibly buy this with the adrenaline excuse, cause I mean, again, that is a thing. my work mom paid the price for it. but after being stabbed in the back, tara is also stabbed in the torso after being dropped from quite the height and that wound similarly has no tangible impact beyond a few pained pants while she was struggling against a larger, more physically powerful ghostface…and adrenaline wears off? at the very least, after they’re finished off the ghostfaces, tara should’ve been shock-y and sam should’ve been trying to get her medical attention ASAP. at this point the movie wasn’t following its own logic in regards to injuries that’d previously occurred in the movie.

i find it so hard to believe laura’s character at all, that she would go into a dark alley searching for a strange male she had never, ever met in person before dead ass a blind internet date. no girl or woman would ever do that, let alone a supposedly a highly educated New York newcomer.

the pacing in this movie was almost a little too fast. i feel like there wasn’t much room to breathe? i didn’t want it to be slow or anything, but it was almost dizzyingly speedy. i LOVE the chase scene with gale but what the fuck. they made a point to talk about how they weren’t safe in broad daylight, then they cut to gale’s apartment and it’s like nighttime? huh?? how many days did i just watch???

the secret celebrity cameo was jack quaid? boo, letdown, boooooo.

neutral stuff: i feel like sam’s bf only existed in this movie so they could do ladder scene LMFAO. but i didn’t want to see romance so that’s perfectly fine with me.

…possibly have more to add, but idk? i’m high af. overall i really enjoyed this film though. especially the carpenter sisters. sam put billy’s costume on in the best way. it was a monkey paw wish for detective bailey that backfired on him majorly, she looked fucking great in it, she literally stayed in it and then at the end, she let go of the mask. because sam isn’t a murderer. she may have internal violent desires but she keeps that part of her in check cause she’s a good person and only acts on those impulses when real danger is afoot. she isn’t her father and the wants to leave that mask behind its past behind, and follow her sister into the future.

[retrosofa]

I started re-watching Mahou no Mako-chan from the beginning and I have so many things to talk about. Here’s my commentary for the first thirteen episodes.

Episode 1: This episode has been fansubbed for years, so I won’t get too into it. It’s a beautiful episode written by Masaki Tsuji and directed by Yugo Serikawa. They’ve included music from the Cinderella ballet, which gives the episode a strong Disney-vibe. 

Episode 2: This episode is so insane. Mako pretends to have amnesia after being found on the beach by an old zoologist named Mr. Urashima. A TV station does a report on her and a couple shows up claiming to be her real parents. Mako goes along with it since she has nowhere else to go. Surprise, surprise, her “parents” are actually criminals who are just after money.

The man accidentally “kills” Mako, Mako’s real father shows up, revives her, and gives her a gift from her mother: a magic pendant called the Mermaid’s Life. Mako reunites with Mr. Urashima, the criminals come back for Mako and the old man just lets them take her despite her cries for help. As they drive off with her, Mako uses her pendant to brutally murder them in a car crash. Mako goes back to Mr. Urashima like nothing happened, and he basically goes “I heard on the radio those two were actually con artists. Anyway, you can live with me but I’m very strict.” W-O-W. Spoiler: Mr. Urashima is absolutely awful and will continue to do shitty things.

This episode states that Mako’s mother also wanted to become human at some point but didn’t go through with it. I wish they would’ve elaborated on this more, especially since she barely appears in the series.

There’s a minor continuity error: the news report says Urashima found Mako the night before but in the first episode we see he found her in the morning. Also the place Mako was found is called the Sakurasaki Coast (A fictional place as far as I know) but it’s given a completely different name later on in the series.

This is the first episode to feature Shinya Takahashi as an animation director. It looks really nice, though not as good as the first episode.

Episode 3: Mako enrolls at Karatachi Academy, which covers elementary to high school. In this episode we meet her classmates Bancho, Senkichi, Haruko, etc. They all become a big part of the show from here on. The conflict of the episode is about the school’s rich girl, Tomiko Tomida, who brings her mother’s diamond ring to school and loses it. Mako’s new friend Haruko is accused of stealing it. Overall a pretty average episode.

Oh, you know Mako’s signature blue and white outfit? It used to belong to Urashima’s daughter who died at sea. Wowzers. 

Episode 4: The twins that live next door, Taro and Jiro, are fed up with their mother’s strict ways and decide to run away. Mako accompanies them, as does their uh... pet bear, Kumagoro. Things escalate when an armed Korean refugee takes Mako and the boys hostage. At one point Kumagoro (who’s usually depicted as sweet and cuddly) viciously mauls the refugee. The episode started out so lighthearted and then got really dark out of nowhere. Also the refugee guy constantly calls Mako a “bitch” which really took me back.

Episode 5: Tomiko has some weird hostility towards Mako and starts spreading rumors about her. During a school trip Tomiko gets so heated, she attempts to drive away in a car and ends up crashing off a cliff. Mako tries to use her pendant to save her but her father just up and blocks her powers. There’s a hilarious scene where Bancho taunts Tomiko as she’s crying, hopelessly stuck on the cliff. Mako ends up rescuing Tomiko thanks to the help of a random guy (who looks like a poorly drawn Akira) driving through.

This is the first episode handled by animation director Fumio Eto. He sucks so bad it’s not even funny. Not only is his drawing style so flat and hideous but his actual animation skills are totally laughable. In his defense, he does tries to do some interesting things but he just doesn’t have the talent for it. Unfortunately he ends up handling the last episode. Sigh.

Episode 6: Follow up to the first episode. The little girl from the cruise ship is suffering from PTSD and is afraid of the ocean. Her father hired Akira to help her feel better. For some reason they changed her name from “Kaoru” to “Naomi.” She’s called Kaoru twice in the first episode and she’s even referred to as Kaoru in the preview for this episode. It’s such a weird error and it really takes away from the episode.

Mako and Akira formally meet. He asks if they’ve met before but she denies it. Towards the end of the episode he directly asks her if she’s “the mermaid who saved his life.” I thought that was funny. In the end, Akira has a falling out with Kaoru’s father and leaves.

First episode to feature Fusahiro Nagaki as an animation director. He previously worked on Himitsu no Akko-chan. This episode looks fine but his art style gets really ugly later down the road.

Episode 7: Mako and Akira meet again. This time he’s working for Tomiko’s family. This episode makes it seem like the previous one didn’t happen? Akira doesn’t remember meeting Mako at all and this time she tries to tell him about what really happened during the shipwreck. It’s very bizarre.

Tomiko has a crush on Akira and gets jealous when he saves Mako from some yakuza guys. There’s this whole subplot about Mako helping a little girl sell flowers while her mother is sick at home. At the end of the episode the thugs come back with a freakin’ pro-boxer who kicks Akira’s ass. Mako saves Akira by using her pendant to uh... freeze the boxer guy. Akira runs off before the yakuza thugs come back and promises to write Mako.

By the way, Mako’s pendant only works if it’s in direct contact with sunlight or moonlight. Nobody ever explicitly tells her this, she just kind of figures it out on her own?

Another episode with Shinya Takahashi as the animation director. Visually, this episode looks great but there are some rough spots in the animation.

Episode 8: Christmas episode. Mako meets St. Nicholas, who believes mankind has lost faith. It's a very ���true meaning of Christmas” type of story. There’s a very wild scene at the beginning of the episode where a smoking teenage girl hits on Mako’s father. 

Episode 9: This was the first episode I found totally unmemorable. A gang leader from another school writes a love letter to Mako. Bancho gets upset and starts shit with the other guy. Turns out the other gang leader is the son of a yazuka. For some reason Mako is blamed for all of this nonsense and Urashima slaps her for it. Yeah, fuck this episode.

Episode 10: Another stinker. Mako hates the cocky basketball star at her school. Nothing much else to say.

Episode 11: Mako meets a black man named Jim who is falsely accused of theft. This episode deals with racism, discrimination, and police brutality. While it’s far from perfect, it’s impressive an episode like this was produced in Japan around that time. There’s definitely a bit of a white savior narrative behind it, as Mako urges Jim to go to the police to clear his name. Jim refuses saying he doesn’t trust anyone and tells Mako how his innocent friends were all killed by the police. While it’s a bit flawed, it’s still remarkable they were discussing these issues.

There’s a nice scene where Jim and Mako are hanging out that features an instrumental version of Blue Light Yokohama.

Episode 12: Mako visits an old man at a fishing village that’s been horribly polluted by factories nearby.

Unfortunately this is another Fumio Eto episode and it looks especially awful. It’s such a shame because the direction in this episode is brilliant but Eto doesn’t have the skills to do it justice.

There’s a great sequence full of real-life photographs and news articles about the effects of pollution in Japan. I wonder if Hideaki Anno saw this episode growing up?

Episode 13: Mako’s father worries about what his daughter is up to, namely her sex life (I’m not making this up. He doesn’t outright say it but the implication is very clear.) This is a pretty cute episode where Mako and her father have a “date.” They go shopping, swimming and even clubbing.

Mako meets two boys in this episode named Dobin and Chabin. I think they’re named after types of tea kettles? I could be wrong. Amusingly they’re both voiced by actors who play Akira: Osamu Ichikawa and Isao Sakuma.

This is the second episode by the head screenwriter Masaki Tsuji.

Reviews on the next 13 episodes coming soon!

[rookie-critic]

Linoleum (2023, dir. Colin West) - review by Rookie-Critic

I love it when a movie surprises me. Some of my favorite moviegoing experiences from the last few years have been going into something relatively blind, and coming out with something I will absolutely never forget. It gave me C'mon C'mon, my top film from 2021, it gave me The Worst Person in the World, my #3 film 2021, and it has now given me Linoleum. The film follows Jim Gaffigan's Cameron Edwin, an astronomer who hosts a declining children's science show à la Bill Nye the Science Guy who, due to the said decline of his show as well as his marriage, which is on the brink of divorce, is in the middle of a well-earned mid-life crisis. Also, a car with an award-winning astronaut in it falls from the sky next to his mailbox and he is the only person who witnesses the "accident," and nobody believes it really happened. The film invokes a lot of magical realism and, from the opening scene, evokes a Gondry-esque dream-like quality not too far removed from the French director's films Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and The Science of Sleep.

The film is mean to it's protagonist, but not in a malicious way: his daughter Nora (portrayed by Katelyn Nacon in a fantastic performance) is disrespectful to him in a way that teenagers often are, but clearly has a love for him as she watches and seems to genuinely enjoy his children's show, his wife (portrayed by a fresh-off Better Call Saul Rhea Seehorn in an equally fantastic performance), who is in the process of falling out of love with him, still shows the hallmark signs of lingering care for this person she'd built a life with. Everything feels very domestic and real in it's dreaminess, but still, something about the full picture isn't quite right. That is, until the third act, when the film slams all of its individual, seemingly disjointed and mysterious pieces together to form a complete 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle of a moving and incredible story about how we live our lives and how, looking back, it is a beautiful and wondrous miracle that we all get to spend any amount of time on this small, blue rock we call planet Earth with one another. It shows us that, between despair and hope, between love and hate, that ultimately, hope prevails, love wins, and our intrinsic curiosity about the universe drives us forward towards something fantastic. What that is will be different for everyone, but there is beauty in that unknown, and we should all strive to close our eyes and let the universe form that fantastic something around us and guide us through it.

Normally, I'd take a handful of sentences here to talk about things I didn't like about the film. I could say that the film's final act takes big, artistic swings that will most likely not please all viewers. I could say that elements of the story don't mesh well with the answers to the film's mysteries. These are things that I can see people complaining about with Linoleum, but I would urge those people to watch it again, and really open your mind up to what the film is doing with that third act. Don't be the person telling Cameron to be more practical and that the answer is "not that simple," because the truth is, much like we're told in the film, it probably is. I used to not cry at films at all, and I would tell people that something would have to be truly, uniquely moving to draw tears out of me. Over the past few years I've realized that is no longer the case (maybe it never was), and I openly and proudly cry frequently during movies and shows. I genuinely believe that, had I seen this back when I didn't shed the frequent tear, that I would still have done so while watching Linoleum. It ticked all the right boxes and did all the right things to make it an instant classic in my eyes, and I can't recommend it highly enough.

Score: 10/10

Only in theaters as a limited release. Check your local listing to see if it's playing in a theater near you.