#How to Set up Alexa

[robinson-graves]

[sits up suddenly from my coffin] anybody fuck with my super danganronpa 2 x guy who didnt like musicals au

[kusanagihaku]

reading eset’s haku fic your highness rn and i’m going to SCREAM!!!! may u get any ssr u ever pull for immediately this was so GOOD im chewing ur haku up IMMEDIATELY

[chelseasdagger]

๑

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Amazon annihilates Alexa privacy settings, turns on continuous, nonconsensual audio uploading

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in SAN DIEGO at MYSTERIOUS GALAXY on Mar 24, and in CHICAGO with PETER SAGAL on Apr 2. More tour dates here.

Even by Amazon standards, this is extraordinarily sleazy: starting March 28, each Amazon Echo device will cease processing audio on-device and instead upload all the audio it captures to Amazon's cloud for processing, even if you have previously opted out of cloud-based processing:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2025/03/everything-you-say-to-your-echo-will-be-sent-to-amazon-starting-on-march-28/

It's easy to flap your hands at this bit of thievery and say, "surveillance capitalists gonna surveillance capitalism," which would confine this fuckery to the realm of ideology (that is, "Amazon is ripping you off because they have bad ideas"). But that would be wrong. What's going on here is a material phenomenon, grounded in specific policy choices and by unpacking the material basis for this absolutely unforgivable move, we can understand how we got here – and where we should go next.

Start with Amazon's excuse for destroying your privacy: they want to do AI processing on the audio Alexa captures, and that is too computationally intensive for on-device processing. But that only raises another question: why does Amazon want to do this AI processing, even for customers who are happy with their Echo as-is, at the risk of infuriating and alienating millions of customers?

For Big Tech companies, AI is part of a "growth story" – a narrative about how these companies that have already saturated their markets will still continue to grow. It's hard to overstate how dominant Amazon is: they are the leading cloud provider, the most important retailer, and the majority of US households already subscribe to Prime. This may sound like a good place to be, but for Amazon, it's actually very dangerous.

Amazon has a sky-high price/earnings ratio – about triple the ratio of other retailers, like Target. That scorching P/E ratio reflects a belief by investors that Amazon will continue growing. Companies with very high p/e ratios have an unbeatable advantage relative to mature competitors – they can buy things with their stock, rather than paying cash for them. If Amazon wants to hire a key person, or acquire a key company, it can pad its offer with its extremely high-value, growing stock. Being able to buy things with stock instead of money is a powerful advantage, because money is scarce and exogenous (Amazon must acquire money from someone else, like a customer), while new Amazon stock can be conjured into existence by typing zeroes into a spreadsheet:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/03/06/privacy-last/#exceptionally-american

But the downside here is that every growth stock eventually stops growing. For Amazon to double its US Prime subscriber base, it will have to establish a breeding program to produce tens of millions of new Americans, raising them to maturity, getting them gainful employment, and then getting them to sign up for Prime. Almost by definition, a dominant firm ceases to be a growing firm, and lives with the constant threat of a stock revaluation as investors belief in future growth crumbles and they punch the "sell" button, hoping to liquidate their now-overvalued stock ahead of everyone else.

For Big Tech companies, a growth story isn't an ideological commitment to cancer-like continuous expansion. It's a practical, material phenomenon, driven by the need to maintain investor confidence that there are still worlds for the company to conquer.

That's where "AI" comes in. The hype around AI serves an important material need for tech companies. By lumping an incoherent set of poorly understood technologies together into a hot buzzword, tech companies can bamboozle investors into thinking that there's plenty of growth in their future.

OK, so that's the material need that this asshole tactic satisfies. Next, let's look at the technical dimension of this rug-pull.

How is it possible for Amazon to modify your Echo after you bought it? After all, you own your Echo. It is your property. Every first year law student learns this 18th century definition of property, from Sir William Blackstone:

That sole and despotic dominion which one man claims and exercises over the external things of the world, in total exclusion of the right of any other individual in the universe.

If the Echo is your property, how come Amazon gets to break it? Because we passed a law that lets them. Section 1201 of 1998's Digital Millennium Copyright Act makes it a felony to "bypass an access control" for a copyrighted work:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/24/record-scratch/#autoenshittification

That means that once Amazon reaches over the air to stir up the guts of your Echo, no one is allowed to give you a tool that will let you get inside your Echo and change the software back. Sure, it's your property, but exercising sole and despotic dominion over it requires breaking the digital lock that controls access to the firmware, and that's a felony punishable by a five-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine for a first offense.

The Echo is an internet-connected device that treats its owner as an adversary and is designed to facilitate over-the-air updates by the manufacturer that are adverse to the interests of the owner. Giving a manufacturer the power to downgrade a device after you've bought it, in a way you can't roll back or defend against is an invitation to run the playbook of the Darth Vader MBA, in which the manufacturer replies to your outraged squawks with "I am altering the deal. Pray I don't alter it any further":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/26/hit-with-a-brick/#graceful-failure

The ability to remotely, unilaterally alter how a device or service works is called "twiddling" and it is a key factor in enshittification. By "twiddling" the knobs and dials that control the prices, costs, search rankings, recommendations, and core features of products and services, tech firms can play a high-speed shell-game that shifts value away from customers and suppliers and toward the firm and its executives:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

But how can this be legal? You bought an Echo and explicitly went into its settings to disable remote monitoring of the sounds in your home, and now Amazon – without your permission, against your express wishes – is going to start sending recordings from inside your house to its offices. Isn't that against the law?

Well, you'd think so, but US consumer privacy law is unbelievably backwards. Congress hasn't passed a consumer privacy law since 1988, when the Video Privacy Protection Act banned video store clerks from disclosing which VHS cassettes you brought home. That is the last technological privacy threat that Congress has given any consideration to:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy

This privacy vacuum has been filled up with surveillance on an unimaginable scale. Scumbag data-brokers you've never heard of openly boast about having dossiers on 91% of adult internet users, detailing who we are, what we watch, what we read, who we live with, who we follow on social media, what we buy online and offline, where we buy, when we buy, and why we buy:

https://gizmodo.com/data-broker-brags-about-having-highly-detailed-personal-information-on-nearly-all-internet-users-2000575762

To a first approximation, every kind of privacy violation is legal, because the concentrated commercial surveillance industry spends millions lobbying against privacy laws, and those millions are a bargain, because they make billions off the data they harvest with impunity.

Regulatory capture is a function of monopoly. Highly concentrated sectors don't need to engage in "wasteful competition," which leaves them with gigantic profits to spend on lobbying, which is extraordinarily effective, because a sector that is dominated by a handful of firms can easily arrive at a common negotiating position and speak with one voice to the government:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/

Starting with the Carter administration, and accelerating through every subsequent administration except Biden's, America has adopted an explicitly pro-monopoly policy, called the "consumer welfare" antitrust theory. 40 years later, our economy is riddled with monopolies:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/17/monopolies-produce-billionaires/#inequality-corruption-climate-poverty-sweatshops

Every part of this Echo privacy massacre is downstream of that policy choice: "growth stock" narratives about AI, twiddling, DMCA 1201, the Darth Vader MBA, the end of legal privacy protections. These are material things, not ideological ones. They exist to make a very, very small number of people very, very rich.

Your Echo is your property, you paid for it. You paid for the product and you are still the product:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

Now, Amazon says that the recordings your Echo will send to its data-centers will be deleted as soon as it's been processed by the AI servers. Amazon's made these claims before, and they were lies. Amazon eventually had to admit that its employees and a menagerie of overseas contractors were secretly given millions of recordings to listen to and make notes on:

https://archive.is/TD90k

And sometimes, Amazon just sent these recordings to random people on the internet:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2018/12/20/amazon-alexa-user-receives-audio-recordings-stranger-through-human-error/

Fool me once, etc. I will bet you a testicle* that Amazon will eventually have to admit that the recordings it harvests to feed its AI are also being retained and listened to by employees, contractors, and, possibly, randos on the internet.

*Not one of mine

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/03/15/altering-the-deal/#telescreen

Image: Stock Catalog/https://www.quotecatalog.com (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Alexa_%2840770465691%29.jpg

Sam Howzit (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:SWC_6_-_Darth_Vader_Costume_(7865106344).jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[mercvry-glow]

Stubborn love

parings. jack abbot x reader

summary. you take your son to pitt-fest, expecting to have a day filled with love and quality time. little do you know the universe has other plans for you instead.

warnings. gun violence, mass shooting, pitt-fest, hospital setting, reader and her son get shot, reader and jack are parents of a twelve year old boy, implied age gap (jack late 40s, reader mid/late 30s), medical inaccuracies, established relationship, hurt/comfort, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. I just keep outdoing myself guys, idk what to do with all this power I have. I'm trying a new thing out when it comes to scene switches so hopefully this isn't choppy and I hope you love this as much as I do! This was a request for the very special @pear-1206! as always I hope you enjoy and any and all feedback is appreciated!

wc. 7,200+

It was supposed to be a fun day for you and Owen—a little mother/son bonding time while Jack finally got some much-needed rest after a long string of night shifts. The plan was simple: spend the day at the festival, just you and your boy, then meet up with Jack later for a nice dinner.

You and Jack had talked it over, and now that Owen was twelve, you both agreed it was fine for him to go. Especially since you’d heard Robby and Jake would be there—it felt safe. Familiar.

“You brushed your teeth, right, baby?” you called from the kitchen, glancing toward the living room where Owen sat, controller in hand, eyes locked on the TV.

“Yeah, Mom!” he shouted back, not even turning around. He was clearly deep into whatever video game world he’d dropped into, and since he wasn’t in school today you allowed it. 

You shook your head with a small smile, humming along to whatever song the  Alexa was streaming. Duke, your rambunctious Boxer puppy—and one of Owen’s birthday gifts from last year—was currently attacking the already-worn kitchen rug like it had personally offended him. You nudged him with your foot as you rinsed a coffee mug.

“Leave it, bubba,” you muttered playfully. Duke gave a happy little bark and pounced again.

Just then, you heard the soft click of the front door, followed by the unmistakable sound of boots being kicked off and dropped in the entryway. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was Jack.

“Hey,” came his gravelly voice, low and tired, but warm. You turned to see him standing in the doorway, running a hand through his messy, silver curls, still in his black scrubs. His badge clipped to his pants and his stethoscope hung loose around his neck.

“And the graveyard king returns,” you said, drying your hands on a towel. “How bad?”

He groaned, stepping into the kitchen and leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Three codes. One stabbing… Had a vet come in,’” He said softly. “Didn’t make it.”

You sighed softly, wrapping your arms around his waist as he melted into you for just a moment. “I’m sorry baby, how about you go shower? We’ll be out of your hair soon, and you can get some much needed sleep.”

Jack leaned down again, this time kissing the side of your neck before pulling back. “You sure you don’t want to join me? I’m pretty sure the kid is glued to the TV.”

“Nope,” you said, gently pushing him toward the stairs. “You need sleep, and Owen has been dying to leave early and he definetly doesn’t get that from me.”

“Speaking of,” Jack called over his shoulder as he walked away, “Owen! Brush your teeth!”

“I did!” came the indignant reply, followed by the telltale sound of the controller hitting the floor as Owen finally got up.

Jack glanced back at you with a tired smirk. “Just making sure.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the dishes, smiling to yourself as Jack stalked off to go see his son. 

It was shaping up to be a good day.

You had no idea how fast everything would change.

-- 

When you had officially gotten to Pitt-Fest a few hours later the air was warm, with a gentle spring breeze brushing your skin as you and Owen made your way from the parked car toward the heart of the festival. The streets were already buzzing with music, food truck smells, and early crowds. You smiled to yourself—this was going to be a good day. 

Owen was practically skipping beside you, eyes wide as he took everything in. “Mom, look! They’ve already got the funnel cake truck open! Please, please can we get one now?”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Owen, it’s barely even lunchtime. Don’t you want to save that for later?”

He gave you that crooked, charming grin—so much like Jack’s—and you sighed with a smile. “Alright. One. And we’re splitting it.”

Within minutes, you were both sharing a messy, powdered sugar-coated funnel cake, your fingers sticky as you wandered past booths and rides. It felt good to unplug, to just be with your son. The chaos of life, Jack’s odd shifts, and your own never-ending schedule faded into the background.

“Hey—Jake!” Owen suddenly shouted, tugging your hand as he spotted someone up ahead. “C’mon, Mom!”

You glanced up, surprised to see Jake—The son of one of Robby’s exs, and a boy you had watched grow up—waving from a grassy patch near the basketball shoot-out game. For a moment, your eyes scanned the area, expecting to see Michael with him, like he said he’d be. Instead, you were greeted with the sight of someone else entirely: a nice looking young woman in a cropped denim jacket and oversized sunglasses, sipping something pink out of a mason jar.

Jake ran up to Owen, already mid-hug and mid-laugh, the two boys catching up like no time had passed.

“Hey Mrs. A!” Jake said brightly, a little too loud over the music. “Didn’t know you guys were coming!”

You blinked, confused, a light smile on your face as you gave the young man a hug. “I thought Robby was bringing you?”

“Oh—no,” he said, waving a hand. “He’s working today, I guess. We didn’t want the passes to go to waste, so he just said I could bring someone.”

“Jeez, he didn’t mention that when we talked yesterday.” you put a hand on your hip, thinking of all the ways you could scold the older man—maybe have Jack do it for you, he was “scarier” anyway. 

Still, everyone looked happy. Owen clearly had his attention on the two older kids, laughing and as he tried to convince both Jake and Leah to come with him to the makeshift basketball court. 

So you stayed chill. 

“Well, I’m glad you guys are having fun,” you said, easing into a comfortable flow of watching Owen and chatting with Jake and Leah. “Well that’s too bad he couldn’t come, Owen was looking forward to seeing Mikey.”

“Totally, but you know how it is with him.” Jake said, glancing down at his phone before wandering off a few feet to take a picture of Owen and Leah playing.

You exhaled slowly, watching Owen light up when he made a shot, Jake clapping and ruffling his hair as his girlfriend cheered. 

It wasn’t quite what you’d planned—but as long as Owen was smiling, you could roll with it. “Do you guys need any more money?” 

Jake wandered over again, glancing up from his phone as he slipped it into his pocket. “Nah, we’re good. I’ve got some cash and Leah’s got that apple pay.” He grinned, nudging her playfully. “She’ll sell her soul for a blue slushie.”

Leah rolled her eyes but smiled. “Facts, but we’re all good for now, promise Mrs. A.”

You nodded, still watching Owen line up another shot with intense focus, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth like he always did when he was concentrating. You’d seen that same expression on Jack’s face a hundred times.

“He’s getting good,” Jake said with a little pride in his voice. “Kid’s got an arm.”

“He’s been practicing,” you said with a smile. “Jack set up one of those hoops in the driveway. He won’t admit it, but they have this little competition going.” 

You laughed softly, relaxing just a little as the chatter and music of the festival surrounded you. The scent of popcorn and cotton candy floated on the breeze. For a moment, it felt simple again. Safe. Happy.

“I’m glad you guys came,” you added, genuine this time. “Owen would’ve been bummed if he hadn’t seen you guys.”

“Anytime,” Jake said. “Seriously. He’s like my little brother.”

Leah smiled, looping her arm through Jake’s. “He’s really the cutest.”

You watched as Owen ran off again, clutching a neon green basketball he’d just won, Jake breaking away from you and Leah to jog after him with mock dramatics.

“Dude, wait up! You're not even giving me a chance to shoot!”

Leah laughed and gave you a quick smile. “We talked about going over to bumper cars, would it be cool if we took Owen?”

You hesitated just a beat, glancing toward the vendor booths where more families were starting to trickle in. But Jake was a good kid. He always had been. And even if Leah was still new to you, she seemed to genuinely care about Owen’s safety.

You gave a small nod. “Just stay close, okay? And if you guys need anything at all—call me. I’ll be right here,”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jake said with a salute, already herding Owen and Jake in the other direction.

As soon as they disappeared into the crowd, you sank back down onto a nearby bench and pulled out your phone.

 Two texts from Jack:

Tryin for another hour of sleep. 

Love you.

 And a photo from earlier that morning in the living room—Owen holding Duke and grinning like a maniac.

You smiled, heart tugging, and quickly switched out and tapped on Robby’s contact. It only rang twice before he picked up.

“What’s up,?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t you ‘what’s up’ me, Michael”

A pause. “Uh oh. What’d I do?”

“You bailed, Robby,” you said, but your voice was more amused than angry. “I told Owen you were coming. I told him he’d see his Unlce Mikey. You could’ve given me a heads up that Jake was showing up with his girlfriend instead.”

“Okay, first of all,” Robby said, unapologetic and teasingly, “I did mention I was thinking of coming in this week.”

“Yeah, but I assumed you wouldn’t, like you always do.”

He sighed. “I know, I know. I was gonna come for a few hours, but then the damn place turned into a warzone. Got six traumas in two hours and some poor intern—don’t even ask.”

You groaned, rubbing your temple. “Ugh, you men and your ER.”

“Right?” he said brightly. “Anyway, Jake really wanted to go, and he asked if he could bring Leah. I figured he’d be safer with you somewhere nearby.”

You narrowed your eyes, even though he couldn’t see you. “You pawned him off on me.”

“Nooo,” he said, clearly grinning. “I strategically aligned him with a responsible adult.”

“I’m not his mommy, Michael.”

“You might as well be his aunt, considering how much that kid loves you and Jack.”

You shook your head, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “You owe me.”

“Fine, fine,” he said with exaggerated suffering. “Family dinner’s on me next week, and I’ll buy Owen whatever overpriced plush nightmare he begs you for today. Deal?”

“Deal,” you said. “But I’m serious, next time give me a little warning before I walk into the teenage boyfriend-girlfriend babysitting arrangement.”

“Noted,” he said. “I gotta go—sounds like someone just puked on my staff, again.”

You snorted. “Good luck with that.”

He hung up, and you slid your phone into your pocket, glancing off in the direction Owen, Jake and Leah had gone. You could hear laughing—real laughing and it felt good.

You stood, brushing your hands on your jeans deciding it was time to go find the kids. You followed the path toward the bumper cars, weaving through groups of kids in matching school T-shirts and moms balancing drinks and phones. The sun was climbing higher now, casting a golden glaze over the whole venue, and the noise level had kicked up—music from the small stage nearby, the low grind of ride mechanics, children shouting and laughing, a vendor calling out about fresh churros.

It should’ve felt cheerful. Safe.

But there was a pulse in your chest that hadn’t been there earlier. Not panic. Not dread. Just… something. Like when a summer sky shifts ever so slightly and you know a storm’s coming, even if no one else has noticed yet.

You shook it off.

The bumper cars were up ahead, and you spotted Owen immediately—slightly crooked in the seat, steering like a maniac, laughter spilling out of him. Jake was driving the opposite direction, aiming like he was on a mission, while Leah leaned over the edge of the railing with her phone, filming it all and giggling.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and waved when Owen spotted you.

“Mom! Did you see that one? I spun Jake out!”

You grinned and gave him a thumbs up. “I saw, Baby!”

Leah smiled and came over to stand beside you. “He’s really good behind the wheel.”

“Just like his dad,” you said with a soft laugh, eyes still locked on the ride.

But then something flickered at the edge of your awareness—a man a few yards back, pacing near the ticket booth. Alone. Hood up despite the warmer weather. Not totally weird, but it pinged something instinctual.

You looked away, telling yourself not to start imagining things. 

You were in mom mode. 

You were overthinking.

Still, your gaze kept drifting back. The guy had stopped pacing now and was just standing there, hands shoved deep in his sweatshirt pockets.

You reached for your phone again, just a quick glance. Nothing more from Jack.

Beside you, Leah nudged your arm. “You okay?”

You blinked. “Yeah. Yeah, just… watching.”

“Totally get that. I get nervous watching people get on roller coasters. Like I know they’re strapped in, but what if—”

She cut herself off and shook her head. “Sorry. That probably didn’t help.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured. “I just… like to keep an eye on things.”

The ride ended, and Owen came barreling out of the gate, freckled cheeks flushed. “Can we do the tilt-a-whirl next?”

“Let me guess,” you said, ruffling his hair. “Jake and Leah want to do it?”

“Uh-huh!” he laughed.

“Alrighty, but I’m gonna join you this time. I can’t let you three have all the fun, right?” You squeezed Owen’s shoulder gently. 

You glanced back in that direction they had walked and spotted them about twenty feet ahead, Jake with his arm draped lazily over Leah’s shoulder, the two of them laughing about something on her phone.

As you took Owen’s hand in yours, you looked back toward the ticket booth.

The man was gone.

You scanned the area, telling yourself it was nothing. Maybe he left. Maybe he was just waiting for someone. Maybe he was never looking at anyone in particular.

But your skin was prickling now.

The crowd was growing thicker. The music seemed louder, a little too chaotic. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay grounded.

No sirens. No screams. No reason to panic.

But still—you reached into your bag and made sure your phone and wallet were exactly where you left them.

--

A bit later, You were leaned against the wooden railing near the edge of the food truck circle, letting the scent of fried dough and grilled sausage fill your nose while you scrolled through the pictures in your phone.

Owen’s smile was huge in every shot—hoisting the giant stuffed dinosaur he had choosen over his head, standing triumphantly on a painted podium outside a carnival game, laughing mid-spin in a blur of motion next to Jake and Leah.

Your heart squeezed, warmth blooming beneath your ribs. It hadn’t been the day you’d expected, but maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe this was even better.

You chose your favorite one—Jake had crouched behind Owen with a goofy flex, and Leah was pretending to kiss Owen’s cheek while he squirmed away, red-faced and thrilled—and attached it to a new message.

We’re having the best time. Gonna let them do one or two more rides, before we head to the restaurant ❤️

You hit send, then slid your phone back into your bag and looked up—just in time to see Owen dart off toward Jake and Leah, who were lining up for the swings just outside of the food trucks.

You followed slowly, keeping them in sight but giving them space. The wind picked up slightly, carrying voices, music, and the metallic squeak of carnival rides. You rubbed your arms—goosebumps, despite the warm day.

Something felt off again.

You couldn’t place it. Not yet.

It wasn’t a sound or a flash—just that shift in the air, like the pressure had changed, like someone had cracked a door you hadn’t noticed before.

Then came the first pop.

You paused.

One loud crack, sharp and clean, like someone popping a balloon too close to your ear. Heads turned. A few kids were startled.

Another pop. Then two more.

Your eyes narrowed. Not fireworks. Not part of the festival.

The music from the central stage screeched to a halt.

Then the screams started. One. Then several. People began moving—first walking quickly, then running.

Gunshots.

Your throat closed around your breath. You turned wildly—where were they? Where was Owen?

“Baby?!” you shouted, pushing forward, weaving between bodies, looking everywhere. “Owen!”

Then—blessedly—you saw him. Near the swings, crouched low behind a bench, Jake in front of him like a human shield, Leah’s arm around both of them.

You sprinted. Didn’t think. Just moved.

When Owen spotted you, his face crumpled. “Mom!”

You dropped to your knees, pulled him into you with a force that knocked the air out of both your lungs.

“Stay with me,” you whispered, kissing his temple. “Don’t let go of my hand.”

Jake’s voice was shaking. “We need to get out of here.”

You nodded fast. “This way!”

And as the shots rang out again—closer, louder—you ran.

You didn’t look back.

You clutched Owen to your side, your arm curled tight around his head, forcing him to duck as you moved. Jake was behind you, shouting something to Leah—but the noise was too loud. Screams. Sirens now, maybe? No—just more shots, ricocheting in the air like firecrackers set loose in hell.

People were stampeding. You could barely think, barely see. Your only goal was to get to the back of the lot—to the edge near the petting zoo where the fence dipped and the parking field beyond opened up.

You turned a sharp corner, skidding in the dirt. “Almost there,” you panted. “Just hold on—”

A deafening crack shattered the words in your throat. You didn’t have time to scream.

Leah gasped behind you—then collapsed, dropping like a ragdoll with cut strings. You barely saw her hit the pavement, but Jake screamed.

“Leah!”

You turned just in time to see blood—too much—pooling around her chest. Her hand twitched, trying to reach for Jake.

“No, no, no,” he was shouting, dropping to his knees, trying to cover the wound, but it was—It was her chest.

She was probably already gone.

You wanted to go to them. You tried. But then Owen let out a shriek—piercing and ragged—and your body jerked like you’d been electrocuted.

You looked down.

Blood. Owen’s blood.

“Baby—”

His leg gave out and he crumpled. You dropped with him, hands flying to his side where the crimson stain was already spreading through his little T-shirt. Not the leg. Higher. Too high.

“No, no, no—look at me, look at me,” you begged, pressing your hands to the wound. “Stay with me, I’ve got you, it’s okay—”

Another shot. You flinched violently, instinctively curling over him as a sharp, white-hot pain tore through your side. It took your breath. Took your words. You tried to move and screamed instead.

Jake’s voice broke through—panicked, breathless. “Go! Take him—GO! I’ve got Leah—he’s still shooting—GO!”

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. But you pulled Owen’s body into your arms anyway, teeth gritted against the blinding pain, and ran.

You didn’t see where Jake went. You didn’t know where the gunman was. You only knew you had to move.

People ran in every direction—ducking, diving, falling. You stumbled into someone, nearly lost your grip on Owen, then shoved forward again. The access road was ahead. So close.

Owen was crying weakly, clutching your shirt.

“Stay with me,” you rasped, your vision blurring. “We’re almost there. I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”

And then—

A fence. An open gap. You fell through it. Literally fell—knees buckling, your body slamming into the grass, but you kept him with you.

Dirt. Blood. Sirens now, real ones, screaming somewhere far too far away.

Owen wasn’t screaming anymore.

He was too quiet.

And Jack still didn’t know.

And you couldn’t feel your legs. Couldn’t feel much of anything but the sticky warmth of Owen’s blood on your hands, your shirt, your arms.

Your side throbbed violently, each breath more shallow than the last, but you didn’t let go of him—not even for a second. You cradled his face, kept pressing your trembling fingers to the side of his neck, checking—still there. Weak. Faint. But there.

“Owen, baby,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Come on. Open your eyes for me.”

His lashes fluttered. A faint sound, maybe a whimper, left his lips.

You dragged yourself upright, blinking through sweat and tears. The access road stretched out behind the fence, gravel and dust dancing in the air from the chaos erupting just beyond it. You could still hear screams. Distant shouts. Faint sirens that weren’t close enough. 

Not fast enough.

“Stay awake,” you begged, your forehead pressing to his. “You can’t go to sleep, okay? You keep your eyes on me. Dad’s waiting for us. You’re gonna tell him about the dinosaur, remember?”

Owen whimpered again, a soft, slurred, “It hurts.”

“I know, baby. I know. But we’re gonna fix it. I promise—just—just keep talking to me, okay? Tell me your favorite ride. The best one today.”

His lips moved, barely audible. “The swings.”

You nodded, choking out a broken laugh. “Yeah? You were so cool. I saw you.”

A car engine revved.

You blinked.

A dark SUV skidded into view down the gravel path, braking hard just a few feet from you. The passenger door flew open.

Two strangers—one man, one woman—rushed out, eyes wide at the sight of you on the ground, covered in blood.

“Oh my god, Travis—” the woman gasped. “He’s a kid—he’s just a kid!”

“Help us,” you rasped, trying to lift Owen toward them. “Please—we need help..”

“We got you—we got you, hang on,” the man, Travis, said, already crouching to help lift Owen gently from your arms while the woman scrambled for the first aid kit in the back seat.

“No ambulances are getting through,” she muttered, already pressing gauze to Owen’s wound. “Too many people. We’ll get there faster.”

You tried to push yourself up, but your body screamed. Your side. Your leg. It was all catching up to you now.

“I can’t—” you whispered, dizzy. “I have to go with him—I can’t let him go alone—please.”

The woman looked up, eyes soft and certain. “You’re coming. I promise.”

Together, they got you both into the back of the SUV—Owen laid gently across your lap, your hand never leaving his.

The car peeled out, gravel flying behind it.

You looked down at your son. His hazel eyes were barely open, face paling. “Hey,” you whispered. “Stay with me. Almost there. You’re so brave, baby”

The gauze soaked through. Blood was on your arms, your stomach, your thighs—his blood—and the sticky warmth of it made you tremble.

His breath hitched. Too shallow. Too fast.

"You're okay, baby," you murmured, voice thick, trying to stay calm as your own side throbbed with a pain so sharp you could hardly breathe. “You're gonna be okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Owen whimpered faintly, the sound barely there. You ran your fingers through his curls, kissed his forehead, even though your vision was dimming at the edges.

“You're doing so good,” you whispered, your forehead resting against his. “You’re the bravest kid I know. Just stay with me a little longer, okay?”

The woman in the front passenger seat turned back to check on you. Her hands were still red from pressing on Owen's wound before the drive. “We’re almost there,”

“PTMC?” you croaked, not even caring how broken your voice sounded.

She nodded. "Yeah. That’s where we’re going."

You exhaled, one tiny shred of relief carving through the pain. Jack has to be there. Robby’s there.

If anyone could save him—it was them.

You gripped Owen tighter, your injured side screaming in protest. You didn’t care. You’d hold him together if you had to.

“I’m sorry,” the woman, who you still didn’t know the name of, said quietly, her eyes flicking to yours. “About the girl—your friend. The one who got hit before you ran. We saw her.”

You swallowed hard. Leah’s face flashed in your mind. Jake’s scream. The sound of her body hitting the ground.

“She was only seventeen,” you rasped, barely above a whisper.

No one said anything for a moment. The only sound was the roar of the engine and the panicked rise of sirens all around the city.

You felt the car lurch forward again as the driver turned onto the highway. You leaned back just a little, blinking up at the ceiling as your arms trembled beneath Owen’s weight.

"You're almost there," you whispered again, not sure who you were saying it for—Owen, or yourself.

And just like that—over the next rise—the skyline broke open.

PTMC loomed in the distance, lit up like a beacon. Like hope.

You closed your eyes for half a second, just to breathe, and then nothing. 

--

The SUV barreled into the PTMC ambulance bay, tires screeching against the pavement. Dr. John Shen was already there, clipboard abandoned, gloves snapped on ready to assess the new victims. The back door of the SUV flew open before the car had even stopped moving. 

A man leapt out, shouting, “Two gunshot victims—one kid, one adult!”

Shen was moving before the words finished. He ducked his head in, already scanning.

A boy—maybe eleven or twelve—was sprawled across a woman’s lap, his small frame slick with blood. His face was gray, eyes barely open, breath shallow. The woman underneath him was slumped, her arm still draped protectively around him. Blood covered her side and leg, a wound visible just below her ribs.

“Red tag!” Shen barked, pointing to the boy. “GSW to the abdomen—fading fast. Let’s move!”

Nurses swooped in. One of them reached to lift the boy, but Shen stopped them.

“Neck check first—don’t move him if there’s spine trauma!”

“Clear,” another nurse confirmed. “He’s bleeding bad—BP’s crashing.”

“Start a line in the bay. Tell everyone we’re coming in hot!”

Shen leaned in as the boy was gently transferred to a gurney. The boy groaned, a high, weak sound—and Shen breathed a sigh of relief. Still responsive. Barely.

Then he turned to you.

You were unconscious now, skin dull and damp. Pulse fluttered beneath his fingers—weak but steady. He checked your airway. No sign of obstruction, but there was clearly pain before you went under. Shen noticed the streaks of red down your arms—defensive wounds. 

Clearly you protected him.

“Pink tag,” Shen said quickly. “Delayed but stable for now. Get her to Zone C—secondary triage. Start fluids and monitor LOC.”

One of the ER nurses glanced, “She doesn’t have an ID yet—came in under civilian transport.”

Shen nodded. “She’s the kid’s mother. Keep them in proximity—she’ll want eyes on him as soon as she’s conscious.”

He turned back to the gurney now flying down the hallway.

“Who’s taking him?” he asked.

A voice answered just ahead: “Me.”

Robby was already pulling on gloves as he met the team halfway to the trauma bay. His face went sharp the second he saw the boy, expression turning from clinical to personal in a flash.

“That’s Owen,” he said, voice low. “That’s Jack’s kid, is his mom with him?”

Shen’s eyes didn’t widen, but something about him froze for half a beat.“We’re rolling her in next, you’d better work fast,” he said, already moving to the next case rolling in.

Robby swallowed hard, glancing toward the second gurney now being wheeled away. His stomach twisted.

Robby shoved the bay doors open with his shoulder just as the gurney was wheeled in. Owen was barely conscious, his head lolled to the side, skin pallid and clammy. The heart monitor was already hooked up and showed a weak but present rhythm.

"Vitals?" Robby asked sharply, already snapping on a gown and grabbing the ultrasound probe.

"BP is 78 over 44 and falling. He's tachy—160s. Resps shallow, sat's at 90 on non-rebreather. GSW to lower left quadrant, exit wound in the back. Looks like bowel involvement, maybe nicked the iliac."

Robby exhaled tightly. 

Stay focused. 

Just stay focused.

"Owen?" he called gently, kneeling beside the bed as they worked. "Hey, bud. It’s Mikey. I’m right here with you, okay?"

Owen’s eyelids fluttered. His lips moved like he wanted to speak, but only a soft noise came out. Robby gripped his hand.

"You don't have to talk. Just stay awake for me. You’re doing so good."

"Two large bores in," one of the nurses confirmed. “Hanging fluids now.”

“Get type and cross, send for four units of O-neg and get trauma surgery on standby,” Robby ordered. “I want FAST up now—we’re wasting time.”

Robby moved quickly, scanning the belly.

“Free fluid,” he muttered. “Left side. That’s blood. We’ve got internal bleeding—he’s not waiting.”

“He needs the OR now,” one of the trauma residents said.

“No,” Robby snapped. “Not until he’s stable enough to make it there. Get Jack. Tell him—tell him it’s Owen.”

Everyone paused for just half a second.

“Do not stop working,” Robby barked, pushing the urgency into motion again.

He leaned over Owen, brushing damp curls away from his forehead. "You're strong, kiddo. You got that from both your parents. You're gonna pull through this, but you gotta stay with me, okay? Just a little longer."

Another nurse leaned in with a pressure dressing. Robby applied it himself, firm and fast. The bleeding had slowed a little, but it was coming from deeper in the gut. He knew what this looked like. And he knew it could turn fast.

The OR doors were already being prepped upstairs for him.

Robby’s hands didn’t shake—but his jaw was clenched so tight it hurt. He couldn’t let his mind drift, to what he saw when they pulled Owen out of that SUV. He didn’t know how bad your injuries were. He didn’t know if you were even awake yet.

But right now?

He had one job. 

And that was to keep Owen alive.

--

The ER was fucking chaos. Codes left and right, everything in a constant movement, and the relentless hum of machines from all over. Jack was no stranger to this—he was in the pink zone, handling the more critical victims of the shooting. But despite his calm, practiced demeanor, his mind was anything but at ease.

He had been pulled in for the shooting response, already working through the wreckage, when he heard the news. You and Owen had been caught in the crossfire, though hopefully safe.

His stomach dropped at the thought.

Keep it together. They’ll be fine, he told himself. 

But nothing about today felt fine.

His gloves were soaked in blood as he continued to check vitals, giving orders, and directing the chaos around him. His pulse was still high, but it wasn’t just from the workload—it was the fear gnawing at the back of his mind. 

Where were you?

"Dr. Abbot, you’ve got a new Jane Doe over here," a nurse called out, snapping him from his thoughts.

He turned quickly, heart skipping in his chest. “What’s her status?”

"She’s stable, for now. GSW to the abdomen. Blood loss is moderate, went clean through. Civillians brought her in from the scene."

Without waiting, Jack followed the nurse toward the trauma bay. His mind raced, jumping to every conclusion. 

Could it be you?

When they arrived at the bed he saw you —his wife, unconscious, blood staining your clothes and skin. Quiet and umoving, but the machines around you were steady. 

His breath hitched.

“Get a line in, start fluids,” Jack barked, moving swiftly into action. His hands trembled as he checked your vitals, his mind moving a mile a minute.

Breathing was shallow, but there was still a pulse. The blood was too much. Too much to be a coincidence.

A nurse rushed past, checking on the other patients in the area, but Jack couldn’t tear his eyes from your figure. He reached out, brushing his fingers gently over your arm. It was warm, but the color drained from his face as he saw the blood pooling on the sheets.

“Vitals?” Jack demanded.

“Stable for now. She’s unconscious, but her body’s holding up,” the nurse answered quickly.

“Stay with her,” Jack ordered, his voice low and tight with barely-contained panic. “I need to know the moment her condition changes.”

He pulled back, trying to get his bearings, but the weight of the situation was suffocating. He couldn’t focus on anything else but you and he still had a job to do.

As he moved to step away, another nurse caught his attention, speaking in quick bursts. “Dr. Abbot, we’ve got another one going up to surgery—this one’s a kid, Dr. Robby said he came in with this Jane Doe.”

The word kid stopped Jack in his tracks.

His heart leaped in his chest, and his pulse roared in his ears. He took off without thinking, his legs moving as fast as they could. 

Owen.

He rounded the corner to another trauma bay, hoping, praying it wasn’t too late. The sight of the gurney brought him to a halt.

They were already wheeling Owen inside, the boy unconscious, his body pale and covered in blood. A small part of Jack’s mind screamed to reach out, to grab him, but the doctors and nurses were already in motion, preparing to take him up to surgery.

He stepped forward, but Robby was already there, directing the team.

“Owen’s been hit pretty bad,” Robby said, his voice tight with concern. “We’ve got him stable for now, but it’s touch and go and we need to get him upstairs, Brother.”

Jack didn’t even get a chance to ask more. He could only stand there for a moment, his mind spinning, before he was called back to the pink zone.

His wife—his wife was still lying unconscious just down the hall. Owen was going into surgery, fighting for his life. And he was supposed to be the one in control. But right now, he was helpless, and he had to keep working. “Fuck this…” 

“I know- I know this is horrible timing, but we still have people to help… They’re in good hands, you know that.” Robby placed a gloved hand on his shoulder, hoping it gave him some sembelence of comfort. 

“If something happens to either of them…” 

“I know…” 

-- 

The world felt hazy, like you were waking from a dream—or maybe a nightmare. Your body ached, and your head throbbed with the sharp sting of exhaustion. You blinked your eyes open slowly, the sterile white lights above you blinding at first. The beeping of a nearby monitor and the faint scent of antiseptic filled your senses, grounding you back into reality.

You tried to move, but your limbs felt heavy, as if they didn’t belong to you. Then you remembered—the shooting. The panic surged back in waves. The flashes of gunfire, Owen, Jake, Leah…

“Owen..?” Your voice cracked, barely a whisper as you turned your head toward the sound of the soft shuffle of footsteps.

Jack was sitting next to you, his hand wrapped around yours. His face was drawn, hazel eyes dark with exhaustion but filled with an intense, unwavering focus. He hadn’t left your side.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, leaning forward. His voice was rough, as if he’d been speaking to you in his sleep. “Hey, you’re awake. Thank God.”

You blinked, trying to focus, trying to piece everything together. “Owen... where is he?” Your voice shook, panic still clawing at your chest.

“He’s upstairs,” Jack said, brushing your hair back from your face gently. “He’s in recovery, he’s going to be okay.”

You exhaled shakily, trying to absorb his words. 

Owen’s okay. 

He was alive. 

You felt a strange weight lift from your chest at the thought, but it didn’t stop the rush of emotions from flooding through you.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “How... how bad was it?”

Jack hesitated for a moment, the corner of his lip pulling into a tight, controlled line. “You’re both lucky,” he said, squeezing your hand, his voice quiet. “You both took a bullet, but it’s not as bad as it could’ve been. Just some stitches, a lot of blood loss. You’re going to be fine. You’re tough.”

You closed your eyes, relief and exhaustion mixing together. Your body felt weak, but hearing Jack’s voice, feeling his presence, calmed the swirling storm in your chest.

“I don’t remember... I don’t remember much after we uh- we got in the car.” you said, frowning. The last clear memory you had was trying to get Owen to safety. 

Then... everything blurred together.

“Hey,” Jack’s voice softened as he leaned closer, his thumb brushing over your knuckles gently. “You did everything you could. You kept him awake. You got him here.” He paused, his voice breaking just slightly. “You saved him.”

You blinked, the words sinking in. You had kept him conscious. You had gotten him to PTMC. It was all coming back in pieces. You wanted to apologize for not being able to do more, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breathing.

“Are Leah and Jake okay?” you asked after a moment, though you already feared the answer.

Jack’s expression darkened, and his grip on your hand tightened slightly. “Leah didn’t make it,” he said quietly, the weight of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “Jake is with his mom now though,” 

You felt your heart ache at the thought. Leah had been so full of life, so young. And now, she was gone.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. You couldn’t help it.

Jack was quiet for a moment, rubbing gently over your hand in comforting circles, offering his own type of peace. “I know. I know, baby,” he said softly. “But we’re here. We’re here, and we’re gonna make it through.”

The words didn’t erase the grief, but they gave you a small thread of hope to cling to.

You turned your head, your eyes searching for Jack’s, and found them filled with that same unwavering strength that had always been there. The strength you needed.

“How’s he doing?” you asked softly, still wanting to know about Owen, even as your body begged for rest.

“He’s alright” Jack repeated, nodding slowly. “They’re keeping an eye on him, but the doctors are sure he’s going to pull through. Kids are strong, and he’s just like his mom.”

You smiled weakly, your heart swelling with love for your son and husband. For a moment, the exhaustion and the fear melted away, and all you could focus on was the fact that you had made it—together.

“You need to rest,” Jack said gently, his voice low as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll see if we can move you up to his room too…”

You nodded, your eyelids heavy. You let the warmth of Jack’s presence settle over you, a comfort you hadn’t realized you’d been craving so desperately.

“Love you,” you murmured, barely conscious as sleep began to pull you under.

“I love you, too,” Jack whispered back, his voice soft but steady.

And with that, you finally let yourself drift off, knowing Owen was safe and that they would be there when you woke up again.

--

Sometime later the hum of monitors and soft beeping were steady and low, like the pulse of the room itself. You sat upright in the wheelchair Jack had brought you in, a hospital blanket draped over your lap, your fingers laced with his. Just sitting here beside Owen was enough to crack you wide open inside—every breath a small miracle.

Owen was awake.

Groggy and a little pale, his eyelids fluttered half-shut as he blinked up at the ceiling, shifting weakly against his pillow. His little hand rested beside him, wrapped in a peds-sized blood pressure cuff, wires trailing from his chest to the monitor, a nasal cannula nestled beneath his nose.

Your heart squeezed at the sight of him. He looked so small. So young. But he was awake—and alive.

“Hey, baby,” you whispered, brushing your fingers gently over the back of his hand.

His eyes fluttered open a bit more at your voice, and he turned his head slowly toward you. “Mom?”

You choked on the word before it could leave your throat. You smiled instead, nodding quickly, leaning as close as your body would allow. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m here.”

Owen blinked slowly, his eyes finding Jack beside you. “Dad’s here, too?”

Jack stood from where he’d been crouched at your side, wiping at his eyes quickly as he walked over to the other side of the bed. “Hey, buddy,” he said, voice rough as he leaned down and kissed the top of Owen’s head. “Of course I’m here,”

Owen gave the smallest smile, tired and lopsided. “You came.”

Jack huffed a short, shaky breath and laughed gently through it. “Of course I came, I work here, dork.”

You looked between the two of them, your eyes misting over again. You reached out and touched Owen’s arm gently, your hand trembling with relief. “You scared me,” you said quietly. “You really scared me.”

“Scared me too,” Owen mumbled, his voice raspy. “But… I think I’m okay.”

“You are,” Jack said, looking at you. “The surgery went well. Robby’s keeping a close eye on you too.”

You nodded, your body still aching, your side wrapped and sore, but none of that mattered now.

Owen blinked slowly, brows furrowing as memories tried to catch up with him. “Where’s Jake? And Leah?”

You and Jack exchanged a glance—one of those heavy, silent ones you’d both learned to read over the years.

“Jake’s okay,” Jack said gently, sitting back down beside the bed, resting his hand on Owen’s foot through the blanket. “He’s gonna be just fine.”

You swallowed the hard lump in your throat. “Leah…” You paused, blinking hard. “Leah didn’t make it, sweetheart.”

Owen stared at you, his lip trembling just slightly before he turned his face toward the ceiling again, eyes glistening. He didn’t say anything, and neither did you.

You reached for his hand again, and he held onto you tighter this time.

Jack stayed sitting next to you while on the bed, his hands settling on your shoulders as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You closed your eyes and let it settle in—the three of you in this small space, this quiet moment of stillness after the storm.

“We’re okay,” Jack murmured against your skin. “We’re okay now.”

You nodded, eyes fixed on your son, who was already starting to drift off again under the pain meds. The road ahead would be long—grief, recovery, healing—but right here, right now, you had each other.

mercvry-glow 2025

[hyunjincanraptoo]

Jeongin's muscles

Word count: 0.8k

Warnings: mentions of sex, a lot of skinship

Alexa, play Hallucination by I.N

So, baby bread is not a baby anymore hehe and I am almost combusting because of this. I mean, look at this photo 👇🏻

Things you’d do to Jeongin’s muscles (and he’d let you even though he would blush after):

Using his arm as a support while getting a vaccine:

You’re terrified of needles (if you're not, just pretend you are), you can’t even look when the nurse comes near. So Jeongin flexes his bicep and tells you, “Here. Hold on”. His voice is gentle, and when you grab his arm like a stress ball, you realize just how solid he is under your fingers. You don’t even notice the shot— you’re too busy thinking about how warm and firm his muscle feels. But when the nurse chuckles and says, “Wow, solid”, and you go red, he clears his throat and looks away.

“Don’t say that”, he mutters, “You’ll make her start thinking inappropriate things”

 Watching him open a jar just because you “can’t”:

You hand him a tightly sealed jar and pout dramatically, “Innieeee, it’s stuck”

He sighs, takes it, and cracks it open in one go, “Easy”

But you’re not even listening, you’re watching his forearms tense, veins rising under his skin.And of course he notices.“You definitely could’ve opened that yourself”, he accuses.

You grin, “Maybe. But where’s the fun in that?”

He smirks, then licks his lips, “You want the milk carton too?”

You nod innocently. He does it, muttering, “You’re such a perv”

Using him as a mattress after a long day:

You crawl into bed, already exhausted. Jeongin follows you, wraps an arm around your waist, and before you can even think about it, you roll onto him and sprawl across his chest and arms like you’re marking territory.

“Comfortable?” he asks, voice muffled.

"You feel like a muscle mattress” you mumble.

He bites his lip to keep from smiling too big, “You’re… heavy”

“Rude”

He laughs but shifts under you, letting you settle deeper into the warmth of his arms and chest.

You’ve never felt safer. You fall asleep in five minutes. And he never moves, even when his arm goes numb under you, absolutely refusing to disturb you.

 Making him flex while he’s on top:

Things get heated— shirts already off, his arms caging you in, and you whisper, “Flex for me”

He freezes. “What?”

“Your arms. Please”

He groans, drops his head to your neck, and says, “You’re so weird”

But he does it anyway. 

"Like this?”, he teases, lips brushing your ear

You whimper. And when you run your hands down his arms, squeezing his biceps while he moves above you— he realizes you’re shaking.

"You’re into this way more than I thought”, he whispers, “Guess I should’ve done this sooner”

Letting you count his abs when you’re bored:

You’re lying in bed, staring at him. He’s scrolling on his phone, covered by a blanket. You suddenly sit up.

“Take it off”

He looks up,“Excuse me?”

"Your shirt. I wanna count your abs”, he bursts out laughing but ends up lifting it anyway.

You gently run your fingers down each ridge,  “One… two… three…”

He whispers, “I can flex harder”

“Don’t cheat. I’m making research”

"You’re ridiculous”

Still, he lets you finish.

✧˖*°࿐

Things Jeongin would do with his muscles just to tease you (and he'd claim it is just an "accident")

He works out shirtless only when you’re home:

The second you walk in, he just happens to be mid pull up, dripping sweat, abs flexed with every breath, claiming  it’s “too hot”

“Oh, hey”, he says casually, breathless, “Didn’t hear you come in”

Then does one more set— with extra grunts.

He pulls your hand under this shirt, then makes you feel his abs:

You're cuddling, then his hand grabs yours, guiding it under his shirt.

"Feel that?”, he whispers, cocky, “Been working out”

Like you hadn’t already noticed. 

He flexes, just to make you gasp, then kisses your neck.

You can only roll your eyes and enjoy the warmth

Lifts you up when you’re in the way:

You’re standing in front of the kitchen drawers, searching for a spoon. He wants something behind you.

You think he’ll wait. Maybe ask you to move.

Nope.

Two strong arms suddenly wrap around your waist, and the next thing you know—  your feet leave the ground.

“Jeongin!”

He just hums, sets you on the counter like it’s nothing, then grabs the cereal box he wanted, “There. Solved”

You blink at him, “You could’ve just asked”

He smiles, “But then I wouldn’t get to touch you like that”

Fuck you after gym without even showering first:

Sweaty, pumped, still in his gym clothes. You barely say hello before he pins you to the nearest wall and mumbles

"Missed you so much”

His arms? Slick, bulging, still flexing from that last set. You can barely think. He sees your dazed face and smirks.

"What?”, he whispers, “You gonna cum just from how my arms feel?”

And you do— embarrassingly fast

Who do you want next? 👀 I'm probably going to do Hyunjin so after Hyunjin 🤭

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

Taglist: @hyyunjinnn , @jehhskz , @mbioooo0000 , @nightmarenyxx , @rozsdascsaptelep, @thatonegirlonhere , @notmedina127, @sweetlifeofjoy , @jeonginsleftcheek , @yelhsaa, @my-neurodivergent-world , @hyunles , @lexlikesbts , @imagine-all-the-imagines , @mysterysold , @teenagepeterpan , @hangonhyunjin, @yxna-bliss

[kxsagi]

CHONK BABY NAGI

“𝐥𝐢𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐢”

a/n: AWWW MY SHAYLAAAAAA

HE IS THE CUTEST BLUE LOCK BABY ☹️

THOSE CHUBBY CHEEKS AAAAAAA

guess i gotta write a post for this now bc he's too cute not to

(i don't know art credits)

you find nagi in his natural habitat: lying on the couch, hood up, eyes half-lidded like a panda who gave up on life, holding your 18-month-old son like a sack of microwaved potatoes. 

the baby? absolutely zoned. ipad at full brightness. one sock missing. chubby foot resting on nagi’s face like he pays rent. 

“yo,” you say. “you alive?” 

“barely,” nagi grunts, voice muffled by a baby sock. “he’s been watching that same cat video for twenty-eight minutes.” 

you peer over his shoulder. it’s not a cat video. it’s a low-budget 3D cartoon of a purple blob dancing to a song that goes, “numbers go one, two, three, shake your butt like a honeybee.” 

your son – let’s call him lil nagi – gives a violent little head nod like he’s at a rave, eyes locked on the screen. the second you make eye contact with him, he blinks and proceeds to hand you a random sticker he peeled off the back of the ipad. “buh,” he says wisely. 

“... thanks?” 

“he’s been giving me trash all day,” nagi mutters. “gave me a goldfish cracker and then ate it when i said thank you.” 

“king behavior, honestly.” 

the baby squawks something like, “ba-ta-buh-guh!” and throws the ipad straight up. 

nagi catches it midair with reflexes he’s never once used in actual parenting until now. 

“damn,” you whisper. “that was hot.” 

“this is my life now,” nagi sighs, adjusting the baby who is now trying to use his face as a climbing wall. “i’m not even a person. i’m a charging dock with anxiety.” 

the ipad turns back on. how? no one knows. but suddenly the blob is twerking again and lil nagi is back in position: legs sprawled, sippy cup in one hand, remote in the other like a tiny king on his throne. he taps at buttons with the confidence of someone who does not know what he's doing but will do it anyway. 

“he changed the language settings again,” nagi mutters as the screen suddenly starts yelling spanish numbers at full blast. 

“... is that why alexa keeps calling me ‘madre’?” 

“probably.” 

your son starts chewing on the edge of the ipad. nagi doesn’t even stop him. “it’s fine. builds immunity.” 

“it builds tetanus.” 

you sit beside them, watching as lil nagi starts dramatically fake-laughing at absolutely nothing and then immediately wipes his nose on nagi’s hoodie sleeve. 

nagi doesn’t flinch. 

he’s transcended. 

he’s reached peak dad enlightenment. 

nothing can hurt him now. 

the baby stands up on nagi’s lap, wobbly as a jello tower, and shouts, “BAH!” before sitting back down and tooting dramatically. 

“announcement made,” nagi nods solemnly. “we all heard.” 

you wipe tears from your eyes from laughing. “you’re so good at this.” 

“no i’m not. he’s in control. i’m just the guy holding the ipad.” 

but then your son leans into him, squishing his soft baby face against nagi’s cheek and babbling something that sounds like “dah-duh,” drooling slightly in the process. 

and nagi softens. 

“… okay,” he mumbles. “he can keep the sock on my face.” 

you press a kiss to both of them and sigh. it’s chaos. it’s loud. it’s full of mysterious fluids. 

but it’s your favorite version of peace. 

especially when the baby burps and tries to fist bump nagi like a bro. 

nagi fist bumps back. naturally. 

© ��𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[dollyfetti]

　𐔌　you love me? ₊˚ ♡

︵︵　notes: bimbo!reader x nerd!bakugou, , valentines drabble, slightly suggestive (reader mentions lingerie), fluffy, katsuki is a little insecure, most of this is unedited, ALSO just bc he goes to the gym doesnt make him a macho man he is still a little dweeb!!!!!!!! ︵︵　word count: 1.4k

you lie sprawled across your pink, plushie-filled bed, while your boyfriend sits at the foot, tying his shoelaces with unhurried precision. mindlessly, your hand strokes your purring kitten as you gaze up at the ceiling, your legs swinging lazily back and forth. “i mean, i would work out, because it's like healthy and whatever,” you say, turning your head to watch as katsuki stands up to grab his headphones from your desk. “but like... it’s just so gross! you get all sweaty, and you have to like... lift super heavy weights.”

"that reminds me," katsuki grumbles to himself, grabbing his key and shoving it into his pocket. "i needa put together that bike fa you."

you hum in confusion, sitting up and pulling princess onto your lap. the tiny kitten meows softly before scampering over to the edge of the bed where katsuki stands. “i dunno how to ride a bike,” you huff, watching as katsuki’s large hand gently rests on the kitten’s back.

he grins lightly, lifting princess into his arms. “it’s a stationary bike, baby. all ya haveta do is sit on it and move your legs.” he scratches princess behind the ears before gently setting her back down and walking toward you.

rising to your knees, you reach for his face, pulling him down for a brief goodbye kiss. he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip before pulling away, playfully squishing your cheeks in his hand. you grin and flop back down onto the bed. “and people say smart people can’t be hot,” you tease, dramatically flinging your hand for emphasis.

"ya, ya, whatever." he tsks in faux annoyance, though he really is a whore for your dumb comments. "don't do anythin stupid while m gone. got it?" he points toward your figure before marching to the door.

you glance up at him upside down, your expression soft and hazy. “yes, sir!” you chirp with a salute, but your acrylics accidentally scratch your forehead, making you shriek.

katsuki grins and shakes his head, stepping out the door, swinging his gym bag over his shoulder.

as soon as the door thuds shut, you're up on your toes, startling your cat in a flurry of excitement. it's valentine's day, and of course, bakugou didn't remember. or maybe he did, and just didn't think it was important. well, you do. you love the cheesy movies and dorky affection that come with the holiday. and you were gonna give your boyfriend the best valentine's ever!!

as his first girlfriend— and hopefully his last— you’re determined to make this day unforgettable. you rush to your closet, pulling out a box of decorations you’ve carefully chosen. dropping to your knees, you pull out heart-shaped streamers and fake rose petals, your face lighting up as you shout at alexa to play a romantic playlist. by the time you’ve hung everything and scattered the last petal into place, you suddenly remember the candle you lit earlier to set the mood. gasping, you blow it out and look around, wondering if the sweet scent is really that essential. yeah..! no biggie.

“okay…” you whisper to yourself, surveying the transformed apartment. glitter and flowers fill every corner. you had also bought a seductive red lingerie set, but when should you wear it? well, you should put it on now, but you don’t want to ruin the ambiance with your impatience. and all your hard work would get ruined! maybe after taking some pictures...

as you stand there, trying to use your brain for once, the sound of a key turning in the door lock startles you. you spin around, wide-eyed. you weren't expecting him back until later!

"I'M NOT READY!" you shout, peering down at your messy appearance. but bakugou's already inside, his eyes widening at the unexpected apartment makeover.

he freezes for a moment, his bag hitting the floor with a soft thump. his fingers run through his sweaty hair as he takes in your eager, pouty face. you shuffle toward him, wringing your hands nervously. “you weren’t supposed to see it yet…!”

he chuckles, pushing up his glasses before kissing your head, still taking in the sight around him. "i text you earlier when you were at the store sayin i was only gonna be an hour. you didn' see?"

you look up, pausing to recall... nope, nothin!

"ohh." you hum. you rub your lips together before spreading your arms out wide. "well, happy valentine's day!!"

katsuki's almost- awkward? he nods, tapping his fingers against his leg. it's like he's unsure of how to respond. he exhales, quickly swooping in to peck your cheek before heading into the kitchen.

you blink at the spot where he was just standing, confusion flooding your chest. what's wrong with him??? you spin around slowly, watching him pull a glass out of the cupboard. you tiptoe after him, cautious as if he'll run away if you move too fast. "do you... not like it?" you ask softly, your eyebrows bent in uncertainty.

without turning around, he pours himself a glass of water. “uh, yeah, i do,” he mutters, taking a sip while his crimson eyes remain fixed on the floor. the silence stretches between you, heavy and awkward. it’s the complete opposite of the atmosphere you were hoping for. a lump forms in your throat, and you tap your foot impatiently, waiting for something, anything, to break the tension.

his gaze lifts, catching your troubled expression. with a grunt, he places his glass down and strides toward you. his hands find your cheeks, rough yet gentle as he holds your face in his palms, humming quietly at the softness of your skin.

"i do like it." he mutters, swiping a tear that had just fallen from your eye. "s nice."

your pout deepens, dropping your head onto his chest. "did it cuz i love you and i thought you'd be more excited..."

all of the air in katsuki's body suddenly leaves him.

his heart patters against his chest, louder than it ever has before. time slows down as the words you said too casually hang in the air between you. in your head, it's obvious you both love each other. you've been together for over a year, and you make it known every day how much you adore katsuki bakugou. but for some reason, you've never said it until today. maybe it's because you're trying to make him feel better or maybe you're just an idiot who doesn't understand the weight of what you just uttered.

love. does he love you? probably. is he smart enough to actually form the words, look into your eyes, and offer a piece of himself in return? maybe. or maybe not. katsuki bakugou deems himself as the smartest. but in this moment, with your body against his, for the first time in forever, he feels dumb.

hesitantly, he pulls back, meeting your teary gaze with his own. his breath catches, and his lips suddenly yearn for yours. his breath hitches in his throat. “you… love me?” he blurts out, his voice tinged with disbelief.

you blink, tilting your head to the side in confusion. “…yeah?” you smile, as if it’s obvious— because it is.

"oh." katsuki breathes out with a nod, his face flushing slightly. "that's cool." he mutters, yknow, like a moron.

but you already know. you don't need to hear it from him. why would you? he shows you every day too. in little ways, like how he knows exactly how to make your coffee or how he melts into you whenever he's overwhelmed. you're not too smart, "not the sharpest lightbulb in the shed", as you say. but you're not blind. you silently hear, "i love you. i need you." from katsuki in every moment you spend together. and that's enough.

you nod with a dorky grin spreading across your lips. "ya." you giggle, watching him visibly relax. you hum, leaning closer to the man to inhale his scent. "i was gonna put on a little show for you when you got home..."

katsuki smirks, raising a brow. "well, go on then. don't keep me waiting long." his hand reaches for the back of your head, pulling your forehead against his lips, leaving a loud smooch against the skin. you smile toothily, skipping into the bedroom.

the blond sighs dreamily, looking around the apartment. maybe it's about time you two move in together.

♡ ‿‿🍭 taglist @coldember

[owensbabygirl]

𝐒𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 °•○.•°●. 𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓!𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 [frat b & virgin chris.]

warnings: smut, pnv, first time one sided, dick riding, kissing, heavy-plot, smoking. english is not my first language. wc: 2.2k

tsk

tsk

tsk

the noise of the lighter flickred up as one of chris' friends lighted up his cigarette, the tip of it redding as he inhaled the drug in.

all the boys of 'the frat' gathered in the school's back alley, a bunch of girls joined them too, not for any serious reason of course, they just thought it was 'cool' to be with the "dangerous" type of guys, that it was a flex to avoid classes and sneak out with little zip lock bags and yarts tucked in their bras.

chris walked around, trying to avoid eye contact with everyone there. he hated waiting for someone to start a conversation with him, so he just kept his head down and continued to inheal the drug.

it was a pretty usual routine by that time, all those pretty girls and frat guys acting like they own them, he didn't liked that.

chris "thought" that was disrespectful and embarrassing for those girls, yeah it was all lies, the only reason he said that was because he never got to feel being with a girl like those girls.

perfect nails, perfect skin, the newest set of push up lacy bras from any other too expensive brand, those girls.

he was just 17 and too embarrassed to admit that his didn't use his v card yet, even though he acted like he was a pro, like said, he would never admit that.

to be honest, he was just jealous, he knew that after this everyone there were going to make out or go to the movies, and he was getting nothing. again.

as was said, it was his usual routine, he got used to it. he never knew how to start a conversation, or more like didn't know how to not act like a virgin. it made chris keep his head down, be unseen.

chris blew out the smoke accidentally in the direction of one of the girls, making her eyes burn a little and let out a silent cough.

"oh uh- sorry" he muttered to her as he looked up at the girl leaning on the wall. he was pretty surprised actually. she was alone. and by alone meaning without a hand wrapped around her shoulders or a little too low on the hips.

but she was pretty, she one one of those girls, alone.

he felt like this was his chance. the best opportunity to finally be like the others, yeah that was lame and he knew they were all overhyping over nothing. yet he was still so desperate to know how it really felt like.

"nuh, youre good" the blonde girl said back as she puffed a hit from her own cigarette, snapping him out his thoughts.

she could see it on his eyes, he was cute. visually too, but his little sort of eagerness was making him even cuter, so she acted like he was doing good at his little flirting.

they kept talking the passed hour, he got a little information about her, her name was alexa... he thought, it just led to the both of them trying to manage an innocent small talk even that they knew each others intentions. but eventually chris and the blonde girl agreed to go out later... in her place.

chris acted like he couldn't care less about it, but deep in he was full of excitement, he was actually going to be with a girl, and not in a friendly manner. he knew this was dumb and childish, but he couldn't hold that grin back.

a few hours later, the streets were quite now, it was a pretty late hour, but not too late. he didn't want to make his intentions too obvious, make her scared or any other bad situation he overthought.

chris jumped over the little fence on her backyard, looking to his sides to see no one was looking before he climbed up and knocked on her window.

little blondie set just there, lifting the window up and letting him come inside her room.

she looked up to his eyes as he stood up to his feet, letting out a dry chuckle at his so visible eagerness. "hey" she welcomed quietly as she closed the window.

"hey" chris muttered back, he had so much to say to her, but he knew that his need will betray him, that he won't be able to control his words, so he just kept it quiet.

they kept chatting while they set on her bed, a little too close. chris knew he couldn't hold back any longer. her eyes, her hair, her, pretty lips he just fantasized about what he could to to them, the urge was bigger then him.

he knew his chances were low anyways, he wasn't the type people got attracted to, he wasn't build like his friends, he wasn't... hot? he guessed. yet, she still agreed to have him in her house, it meant something, right?

chris knew it's better to make a mistake than be quiet and regret it later, so he leaned closer.

"you good?" she asked, looking him up and down before she looked at his eyes. "uh- yeah, I'm fine" chris chuckled falsely, yet inching closer. his eyes darted between her eyes and her lips, like a silent ask if that's okey.

"c-can I?" chris stuttered, his eyes darting between her eyes and her lips like a puppy who needs a treat.

"alexa" nodded. she couldn't lie to to herself, no matter how lost chris was she knew from the first moment she saw his innocent look that she had to ruin it.

she was too tired to wait for him to gain courage and start a pretty romantic scene, so she took matter into her own hands and edged closer, her lips ghosting over his just a second before chris pressed in.

her lips were so soft, her hands too, now on the back of his neck pulling him closer. he couldn't hold back from moving his hands to her sides and tilt his head to give her a better angle.

he drew her closer, but she gently pushed him down to lay flat on his back, never braking the kiss. she couldn't.

he was so soft, so gentle, and she felt that he needed more, his hands were rubbing on her lower back now, a little under her shirt.

he was needing, but never pushing. she loved that.

"alexa" let out a little noise at his movement, also to sign her approval. that was all chris needed to hear, now he moved his hands under her shirt, feeling the downy skin of her back as he lifted the shirt up a little.

chris tightened his grip on her hips, grinding them against his, he needed to feel any kind of friction so bad, he was desperate.

he broke the kiss just for a second to move his finger under the strap of her top. "off" he ordered as he took his own shirt off as well.

it was pretty obvious for him to lean closer to continue the kiss, but she pulled back, slightly smiling to herself as she presses open mouthed kisses across his neck, then his chest, then his stomach, while slowly pulling his jeans down, making his mind jolt with anticipation.

desire was consuming him. chris could feel his control melting away as she tagged her hands in his waistband. "you're sure you want to do this?" she queried, looking for any sort of regret or doubt in his eyes.

but chris only nodded back eagerly, watching intently as she lowered his boxers down to his knees, his cock springing to his stomach as his face reddened from both excitement and embarrassment as he bit his lip.

her focus never left his eyes as she continued to kiss his pelvis, bringing her hand to stroke his cock, wrapping it around his hardness.

"fuck" chris muttered to himself, throwing his head back on the pillows. "you like that?" she asked with a smug grin, her mouth hovering just over his dick.

chris nodded quickly, eyes bright as he felt her lips on his cock, felt how her saliva coaxed his already leaking tip, he bit his lip so hard just so he won't let put the wrong noise, yet kept humming in pleasure.

"n- mfuck... need you s'bad" he murmured, lifting his hips desperately to feel her, but she was quick enough to stop him.

she moved her way up again with little tender kisses on his abs and up to his lips.

the taste of his lips and his dick all together making her let out a low moan and pull his closer my the back of his neck. and of course chris took advantage of the moment to take her pants off.

he snapped back from the kiss, eyes wide he looked at her with nervousness mixed with excitement, but he knew he needed to get over it. so he nodded.

"you sure you want this?" "alexa" probed, rubbing up on his arm reassuringly to let him know it's okey even if he's not ready yet, but he shaked his head no.

"I'm sure." he reassured back, letting her sink down his length. she let out a moan at the stretch as she buried her head in his shoulder, which chris was so thankful of since he almost rolled his eyes to the back of his head at the feeling of him squeezed between her walls.

he didn't want her to see how desperate he was. and he also could swear that even just looking in her eyes would make him nut.

"fuck chris.." she moaned to his ear as she moved her hips on him, making him grab them and move her faster, but not too much. he was just enthusiastic.

the sight of his dick disappearing in her, the softness of her skin, the way her movement was so smooth... all he could think about was how he's going to keep himself together for at least the next 20 minutes, he felt like it's a metter of seconds before he's going to bust.

but he also knew he should be more at the moment. a little feeling of a butterfly rush went through his stomach as he heard her little noises, snapping back to reality as he slowly thrusts into her, his head falling back on the mattress "fuck." he let out in a quiet breath.

she gently started to speed up, feeling a little rush in her stomach at well, just that it was getting lower and lower and desperate to release.

each snap of his hips moved the blankets and pillows farther down the bed, the mattress creaking rhythmically against the wooden bed in a lewd counterpoint to the obscene squelch of his cock.

he moved his hands from her sides to her ass, letting his nails dig in the skin as he lifted her up and down. "fuck alexa-" he whimpered, pushing himself deeper and making her moans be even more high pitched every time his tip brushed that sweet spot. "-so good... I'm close!"

both of them had their eyes rolling back is pleasure and lust. so much lust and passion. they both were so close, his cock moving in and out of her made sloppy noises fill the room along with their hums and sweet sounds.

"I'm gonna come" she sobbed to his neck, her hands tagging at his hair, the consuming euphoria was too overwhelming.

"I know, that's fine, j-just let go for me, let go." he mumbled softly like a whisper to her ear as he rubbed her back, his other hand still helping her to ride him.

that was all she needed to make her legs tremble slightly for a brief moment as she let that ball of fire in her stomach all over him, the sloppy noises growing louder and so as his moans.

he knew he was too close now and she was probably too sensitive so he pulled out, moving his cock in his fisted hand in such a fast pace that he came just second after. thick ropes of white sticky cum flying over his stomach, even to his neck. this was definitely the hardest he ever came.

all his muscles relaxed at once as he felt the high spreading in his vains. "alexa" already past it so she took care for cleaning him with a few tissues she had on her nightstand.

"leave that-" he breathed out, throwing the tissues away as he wrapped his other hand around her waist "-cm'ere."

he cuddled both of them in the blanket that was almost falling off the bed, sighing to her neck "are you okey? did I hurt you? was I-" "shh" she cut him off with her finger on his mouth and a small giggle "I'm fine."

"fuck... that was way better then I imagined, it was perfect, alexa you're fucking perfect" he said right before he kissed her forehead, a grin from ear to ear formed on his face.

that feeling of being out of breath from oversimulation, being so close, the way all his thoughts and overthinks vanished in those moments who brought him so much happiness, ecstasy, and lust.

this was chris' first time doing that, first time he felt like being sent to heaven and back. he knew he was just going to be so...

addicted.

she looked at his eyes in satisfaction, her hand tracing little circles on his cheek "yeah it was good..." she said right before kissing his lips shortly. "and just so you'll know... my name is vanessa."

"really!?..."

"oh."

masterlist

author note: this is how lust!chris' sex addiction started if it wasn't obvious. I hope it was good, I know I'm not the best writer here, but please support by reblongging if you did like it! I'll appreciate that sm. love you girlies.

[cuverale]

can we have us as Lee Byung Hun wife?? pretty please🙏😭 (idk if I'm write it's right, srry, I'm not good in english)

ᯓ bliss — lee byung-hun.

note: loved the idea!! enjoy <3

────────── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ──────────

tmz_tv

liked by ynmybaby, byunghunspookie and others

tmz_tv Actor Lee Byung-hun and his wife, Y/N L/N, recently celebrated their wedding anniversary in style, and fans can’t stop gushing over their heartwarming photos. The couple marked the special occasion with a romantic photoshoot, capturing their timeless love and undeniable chemistry. Known for keeping their private life low-key, the duo gave a rare glimpse into their relationship, sparking admiration from fans and media alike. Their elegant yet intimate celebration was a testament to their enduring bond, proving that their love story is truly one for the ages.

view comments

kissmeyn they’re the definition of couple goals !!

iloveoldermen the way he looks at her 😭

ynmybaby how do they manage to look even more stunning with each passing year? absolute perfection!

randomuser he’s too old for her tho

byungswife nobody asked for your opinion, hope this helps!

ynsluvr proof that true love only gets stronger with time. happy anniversary to the most iconic couple!!!!

number001 alexa play that should be me by justin bieber ✋🏻😭

simpforfictionalmen Lee Byung-hun and Y/N L/N are the real-life ‘happily ever after.’ Disney, take notes!

mrandmrslee GOD I LOVE THEM SM !!! 💗

leebyunghunswife can we just talk about how these photos are better than half the wedding shoots i’ve seen? iconic.

yourusername

liked by byunghun0712, from_jjlee and others

yourusername wifey wifey wifey wifeyyy

view comments

byunghun0712 my love ❤️

liked by author

yourfriendsuser i’m the sniper btw

yourusername stop😭

ynmybaby MY PARENTS

delulugirl happy wife happy life

from_jjlee happy anniversary to my favorite couple!

yourusername love youuu!!

kissmeyn you’re glowing mrs.lee 🗣️

byunghunspookie the chemistry is unmatched

dilflover look at my man with his wife

ynswifey look at my girl with her husband 😞

mrandmrslee their love story is like something straight out of a movie. wishing them many more anniversaries to come!!

inhosimp these photos made my day 😭💗

byunghun0712

liked by yourusername, hoooooyeony and others

byunghun0712 Every moment with you feels like a new beginning, and every year, our love grows stronger. Thank you for being my rock, my joy, and my greatest blessing. Here’s to many more years of laughter, love, and unforgettable memories. Happy anniversary, my love.

view comments

yourusername i love you i love you i love you

liked by author

yourusername literally crying rn

byunghun0712 let me cuddle you then

ilovebyunghun SIR ME TOO PLS

hoooooyeony 💘💘

ynspookie may this type of love find me

wifeofinho relationship goals? more like LIFE goals. can I just be their third wheel forever??

leebyunghunfan their love story is so wholesome, i might have to start writing fanfic. don’t judge me anyone!

ynmybaby LMAO SAME

inholuvr girl you better hurry up i wanna read that now

byunghunswifey Lee Byung-hun out here setting the bar way too high for all husbands. noted, sir, very noted.

iloveyn someone check the dictionary—pretty sure their photo is next to ‘soulmates.’

byunghun0712’s story

[kisses4reid]

red tissues | ·˚ ༘ aaron hotchner ,,

summary - you get nose bleeds regularly, the alarming increase in their appearances gets aaron’s attention, especially when you wake up one day to blood covering your entire face for aaron to see.

genre - hotch x fem!reader, fluff

warnings - lots of mentions of blood, nose bleeds, mentions of being over worked, sickness

a/n - i’m going to open a permanent taglist for anyone who wants to be tagged in every criminal minds fanfiction i write, so either comment on this or make a request that you’re interested! ❤️

The office was buzzing with the sound of typing and chatting, pens being passed and chairs being adjusted. The night was surely coming, sun setting against the window panes to cast shadows onto piles of files. Your desk was dark and your pile was unfortunately much taller than everyone else’s. Funny how shooting a criminal earns punishment through 10 more files to fill out. 

But right now, all you cared about was filling your Snoopy mug with something. The coffee machine was broken by a certain muscly man, so some tea bags delivered that day were your only solace. Chamomile. Sounded tranquil enough. 

As you waited for your beverage to brew, you glanced back to your desk and then to your teammates. You should’ve taken Spencer and Emily’s offers to take some files off you, but being a perfectionist and selfless, you kindly declined. Shoulder’s slumping, you pulled the mug close to your nose and took a long smell, closing your eyes in relief. 

Suddenly, right before you could take the much needed first sip, a pang hit your head and your eyes and eyebrows ached, causing you to clench them. When you opened your eyes, the light brownish-yellow of the tea was mixing with red.

Blood. Shit. 

You swiftly turn to grab some tissues as your boss, Aaron Hotchner, was grabbing his plain mug from the top shelf, you hadn’t even noticed him in your panic. He followed you with his eyes as he grabbed a green tea packet. The tissues held against your nose were turning red and soggy. And before he could ask what had happened, you had abandoned your mug and vanished from the room, heading for the bathrooms. 

Aaron furrowed his eyebrows and noticed the discolouration in your mug, before grabbing it and washing it out for you. 

A few days later, Morgan and Reid were sat in front of you, JJ leaning on your seat’s armrest as Aaron conversed with a lawyer over the phone. Prentiss covered the basic details of the case but all you could focus on was the slight pang in your heart when you heard Aaron chuckle at whoever was talking with him. Though your eyes didn’t leave the case files, your ears were suddenly attached to your boss’ voice. 

Which was much closer, after he sat down next to you. 

You felt stupid, being happier now that his attention wasn’t on some other woman, even though his attention still wasn’t on you. He sighed as he sat, a whiff of his strong cologne circling the group as they updated him on other details they had caught. You mentally scolded yourself for acting like a 14 year old girl crushing on her teacher, but alas, you would continue.

“We noticed all of the victims went to private religious schools, most of them went to church as well. Y/n pointed out how in all of their photos, they were dressed in a conservative way - which is a contrast when we look at their ages.” Spencer started before Rossi added,

“They’re all teenagers, nearly turning 20. They all had boyfriends, and we found that one of them was already engaged.” 

You listened carefully, looking at the faces of the victims that were spread on the table, “As well as the common religious commitments, they all had one other thing in common.” You squinted your eyes with a short breath, feeling a headache approaching before you pointed something out that nobody else had noticed, “Same initials, all of them.” 

Hotch nodded, “Amy Sanders, Alice Soo, Adriana Santiago and Alexa Smith. Nice work, Y/n.” 

But before you could reject the complement and internally squeal, a throb attacked your head, and your eyes scrunched to create wrinkles you would try to massage away that night, before you threw your hand under your chin to swiftly catch a drop of blood. It was like a 6th sense these days.

“Excuse me.” You croak, leaving the back of the plane with Prentiss close behind you. You bent your head back before the raven haired woman’s hand pushed it forward. “Don’t do that, the blood might go down your throat.” 

You followed her instructions and raised any eyebrow, pinching the bridge of your nose. “My niece used to have a lot of nose bleeds whenever she had a cold.” She promptly explained as she bent to pull out tissues from the white bathroom cabinets. 

Around 5 minutes later, you and Prentiss returned to your respective seats, no one but you noticing a strong stare following you. “Are you okay, L/n?” Spencer asks, squinting in curiosity. “Yeah, sorry, sensitive nose, that’s all,” you lied.

These weren’t the first times you’ve had nose bleeds at work or around the team. There was one on your third day of work, the second time you went to a bar with Garcia, and one time on the plane around 4 months ago. You had been lucky that all your other nosebleeds happened either on the way to work or in the comfort of your own apartment. These days, when each case was followed by a heavier one, and each road trip was followed by a 10 hour flight, you were starting to get exhausted. You’re body has decided nose bleeds was the indication for you to take a fucking break.

The next week, you had almost forgotten about your unfortunate trait until a certain tall man called you into his office. “I need those finger print files done by tonight, is that alright?” He asked, smooth voice cutting through your fatigue, leaning on the front of his desk only a metre away from you.

You glanced at him up and down. He was clad in a smoke grey suit, perfectly fitted to his muscles and wide shoulders, tie loose enough to show the amount of work he had been through that morning. He smelt amazing, like wood and petichor, like metal and… “Yeah of course, sorry. I put the victims confirmed profiles on Spencer’s desk to check over before I could finalise the um…” Shit. Why did this have to happen right now?

But before you could even excuse yourself or hold a hand to your nose, a soft hand was cupped under your chin, careful not to touch you but close enough to catch droplets. Heat was radiating from the near contact, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the eye contact you were putting yourself through, or the blood that was currently pooling down your chin and into his palm. Aaron had appeared so swiftly, you wondered how he knew. “We should really get you checked out.” He said, recalling back to your third day on the job. 

“You can check- You’re right I should get… your hand is getting blood on it.” He broke your eye contact and glanced down at his palm, before taking a breath and nodding. “Right, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

His other, clean, hand is hovering over your lower back, and everyone’s eyes are hovering over the two of you, following you into the closest bathroom available. You can feel your cheeks heat up. As you pass the kitchenette, he picks up the box of tissues and you try to grab some from his hand, but instead of allowing you, he takes your wrists and holds one to your nose himself. His grip is soft, but restricting, warm. And you can’t help but look at him as he searches for an empty bathroom.

In the bathroom, he guides you to lean over the sink, washing his hands in a sink beside yours while watching you carefully. You look at him through the mirror, and you’re so distracted you almost don’t hear him tell you, “Lean forward more, don’t pinch your nose too hard.” 

You comply and he crosses his arms and leans adjacent to you. “Do you know what’s causing all these nose bleeds?” 

You thought back to shorter than 5 minutes ago and bit your lip, feeling your cheeks heat up once again. “Um, I think it was your cologne.” You glance over to him finding he was already looking into your eyes. You were embarrassed, he was your boss and you were basically insulting him. “You smell great, don’t get me wrong. My nose and I obviously have different… opinions.” 

Aaron nods with a small smirk, compelling you to look away before you say anything more. 

Thankfully, saving you from any more embarrassment, your nose stopped painting the porcelain sink reddish-orange. “Thank you for helping me, Hotch.”

Aaron returned to his computer and opened a tab, searching ‘Common causes for frequent nose bleeds’, and, ‘Ways to avoid nose bleeds’.

And the next morning, Aaron walked into the office to get his coffee (the machine had been promptly fixed after your nose bleed situation) before Morgan spoke up, “New cologne, Hotch?” 

Hotch nodded, and turned back to his coffee, pocketing some chamomile satchels to dispose of later. The comment reassured Aaron.

He wanted to be someone you could be around without risking anymore red tissues. 

Aaron placed himself next to you on the plane, the team had gone over the case six times already, and the plane flight was long. It’s always been long. You opened your mouth to greet him before he cut you off, “We can provide a doctor for you, if these nose bleeds keep happening.” 

You blink in surprise, “I’m sorry they’re inconvenient but there’s not much I can do about it.” You bit the inside of your lip, unaware that your bleeds had caused anything negative other than a decrease in tissue supplies and unwanted attention (not including Aaron’s).

“I’m not saying it’s an inconvenience to me,” he shakes his head, “They’re an inconvenience to you. I’m worried it’s because you’re overworked.” 

Oh. 

You cleared your throat and avoided eye contact.

He continues, “You get to work the earliest, stay the latest, you’re always the one travelling the furthest when we have to split up.”

A smirk appears on your face as you finally look back up at the stoic man, “Sounds like someone I know.” 

“I make time, Y/n.” 

You wrung your hands in your lap and sighed, “I’ve had this problem since I was a kid, Hotch. My longest record between nose bleeds was three months, that's only because I finally found some medication.” Aaron raised an eyebrow. “They had terrible side effects, it wasn’t worth saving some tissues. I can deal, is what I’m saying.” 

He nods and looks away in thought, that's when you allow yourself to look over his chest and arms, his posture and his… smell?

“You smell different.” “I didn’t want a repeat of yesterday.” 

You couldn’t stop thinking about Aaron Hotchner since what he said on that plane a little over five days ago. He changed his cologne, he offered to find a doctor, he listened to your reasoning. You thought he was being friendly. You wanted him to be a little bit more than that.

The plush seats and convenient seating arrangement that put you next to Aaron didn’t offer any comfort against the dry and hot weather of Nevada. If a place was your enemy, this was it. You had already concealed a small bleed in the drive over, Spencer not giving you a second look when you pretended to sneeze into a tissue. With the increased frequency, she didn’t want any useless worry. You weren’t going to take a break, so you needed to hide any signs of exhaustion as best you could. Even when the sheriff opened every window in the temporary office, JJ continued waving herself with a file, Morgan had already chugged three plastic bottles of water. Even Hotch only had a dark blue dress shirt on and damn did he look hotter than the sun. 

But even with your best techniques and play-pretends (never looking down for too long, staying hydrated, avoiding the hotter places in the precinct), an unfortunate pang hit the front of your head and travelled to your nose. Your eyes shuddered, and you started to look for a tissue, before one appeared at the bottom of your chin before blood even trickled down your top lip. 

It was Aaron holding it there, eyes on the case. 

You looked at him in surprise and awe, before you took the tissue off him and excused yourself, getting a worried look from the old sheriff. 

The tall man had learnt when you were about to get a nosebleed, a sudden stop in motion, scrunched eyebrows and eyes, stopped breathing. And as you left his line of vision, he tried not to worry about the amount of blood you would lose in this weather, and it motivated to close this case even more. 

Everyone around the table glanced at Hotch and then at each other, putting on blank faces when Hotch looked up. 

It wasn’t much better in the hotel rooms you had been given. They had aircon, and free water, but small windows, and broken fridges.

It was a relief to be able to sit on something that wasn’t covered in someone else’s sweat, even if it would be covered soon by your own. You had the coldest shower you think you’ve ever had, put on a larger t-shirt and a small pair of basketball shorts to fight against the heat during the night.

It came a surprise to you when you were blood free the entire afternoon and you counted it as good luck for the flight home, forgetting to place tissues or water on your bedside table. After denying an invitation to poker, you threw yourself onto the bed with crisp white sheets and soft pillow cases, in the direct shot of the air conditioning and only window in the room, and passed out.

There was a frantic knocking on your door, or maybe a pounding in your head. You couldn’t tell, and when you tried to investigate, you felt like your eyelids were sewn shut.

You were able to peak them open and lift yourself weakly, when suddenly a figure appeared in front of you with long blonde hair and soft hands on your shoulders.

“JJ?” Your lips felt tight.

“Jeez, Y/n. How long have you been sick?” Her voice was muffled, but as your vision became clearer so did your hearing. Hotch stopped in your open doorway, already dressed and bags dropped in the hallway, before walking in.

For a second you were going to try and stand to clean your room, realising how late it was. But as soon as you tried to stand, everything went hazy, and you could taste metal on your tongue.

“Y/n, we need to get you cleaned up.” JJ said sweetly, as if you were a child. She took your heavy arms and pulled them to the bathroom, light making your headache into a migraine.

You lifted a hand to the bone between your eyebrows, and when you took it off, it had dried blood on it. As JJ grabbed your body towel from last night and wet a corner of it, you stole a sight of your face. Your mouth and nose was covered in dry blood, some of it had travelled to your left cheek, and between your eyebrows. There was fresher blood on your chin and some even on your next.

You had a delirious thought that you had been stabbed, or you had stabbed someone, but when you looked out into the bedroom and saw Aaron taking the pillow case off of the pillow you were using, you wondered if you caused it to go from white to red overnight.

“What happened?” JJ asked, carefully placing her fingertips on the bottom of your jaw while her other hand dabbed softly at your face. You couldn’t answer, even though you had a fairly good guess. Aaron appeared in the mirror to hand JJ some pain killers, for you.

Swallowing was painful, but as your blonde friend wiped off the last bit of blood from your top lip, you looked worse than your throat felt.

“I’m sorry JJ, I could’ve cleaned myself up.”

“Don’t apologise Y/n. You worried me. You weren’t responding to your texts, not even Hotch’s,” she put the towel down and looked into your eyes with a motherly concern. “I think you need to listen to Hotch when he offers you a doctor again.”

And you nod, because she was right.

JJ left the room with a hug, leaving you with a very cross Aaron Hotchner.

“I’m-“

“You could’ve choked, or suffocated, or passed out- Actually I think you did.” He motioned towards your alarm clock that had been running since 5 a.m. “Y/n…” He looked confused, worried, sad? Your eyes hadn’t 100% cleared yet, a headache slowly throbbing, knees still slightly buckling. You wanted to lay down and be thrown into an ice bath.

“How was I supposed to know this would happen?” You croaked out.

“You’ve got one window open, cold and dry aircon on, and no water bottle on your bedside table. You should’ve asked to sleep in the same room as someone, in the same room as me.”

You looked down to your feet, only noticing now that Aaron had packed all of your things for you.

“I thought you had been…” He raked a hand through his hair and paced before placing his hands on your upper arms, “I’m going to get you to a doctor, and you can’t say no. That’s an order.”

His grip tighten only slightly, before he turned around and left with your luggage, heart beating fast in his chest.

You were back home, thank god. The air was cooler and clearer, and you didn’t feel like you needed to moisturise every two minutes. You stretched your arms above your head, squishing your eyes closed for some relief to the sting from the computer screen. Your chest expanded deeply, and your nose finally cleared. 

And when you opened your eyes, you glanced over to your boss’ office windows to see if he was still working. But he was already out of his door, looking at you. 

Butterflies played tag with each other in your stomach, a blush crossing your face and you both shot your gazes away. 

His shoes were nearly silent against the floor, but when you quickly stood to pack your shoulder bag and take the sweater off the back of your chair, Aaron was there to greet you when you turned around.

“Let me walk you out?” He asked, as if the last words he said to you weren’t full of unprofessional emotions.

You were silent for at least 3 seconds, Aaron getting worried for a second before you stumbled over your words, “Y-Yes plea- Yeah. Sure.” 

He smiled, a genuine smile. 

Side by side, his briefcase touching your shoulder bag, you made your way towards the elevator. Aaron fiddled with his fingers and felt unfamiliarly nervous, heart thumping a little harder than when he walked out of his office. 

“Thank you for everything. Caring, catching my blood. I would ask how you knew, but you are a profiler after all.” You smile softly, and he nods. “I’m glad you noticed.” He presses on the car park level in the elevator, hands coming to discreetly fidget once again. 

And you can’t take the silence, “You still smell good.” 

“You always do.” Aaron looks as surprised that he said that as you do, looking away quickly before looking up and sighing, “Tomorrow is Saturday.” 

“Yeah.”

“Do you have any plans?” 

“I have a movie I want to watch, maybe a recipe I wanna try,” you reply oblivious, shuddering at the sudden change of temperature when you both exit the elevator. Suddenly a thicker layer of fabric was draped over your shoulders, one that smelt like new cologne. You blushed, looking up at him. 

The cold breeze was pushing his hair out of place slightly, making his nose a little redder, his eyes clearer. He looked like the word handsome humanised. 

“I think that you should watch that movie and try that recipe at… my place.” 

You widened your eyes chasing any regret or embarrassment in his eyes, but all you got was nervousness, something you had rarely seen in him before. 

He is so handsome, I can’t believe this is happening, I have to tell Garcia- Can I tell Garcia? He’s my boss after all- I mean this doesn’t mean it had to be a date or anything- 

Some blood dripped onto the jacket draped over his shoulders. 

“You could’ve just said no.” He joked as you pinched your nose, smiling against the small headache. It must’ve been the last bit of blood from that morning. “No, I wanna go, I do- Just, could you get a tissue from my glovebox? I don’t want to get anymore blood on your coat.” You reply, nasally and carefully. 

“We’re definitely getting you to a doctor.” 

“Sounds like a fun first date.” 

[pb-n-jen]

THE yellowjackets cast panel debrief

okay, guys, so I JUST got home, here's everything I can remember from the panel! I have a few videos too, but I'll try and post those tomorrow bc I have to lock in for my final after this ☹️

first of all they all looked BEAUTIFUL and all three of them were in like six inch heels like bad bitches

the mod asked a bunch of questions about how they got cast in the first place etc. which was cute

sammi talked abt how she was originally called in for nat and that she wore black lipstick to the audition LOL

she ended this conversation by saying 'anyways i love you sophie thatcher' .... don't we all

melanie is SO sweet every time they would talk abt all the crazy shit shauna's been doing in the adult tl there would be a pause and we'd all look at melanie and she'd be sitting there like 😇

they were talking about the funerals/death parties for the teen tl and the mod asked melanie and christina if they did anything like that for the adult tl deaths and they were talking about how they literally have to film scenes sometimes and then fly home to their kids and melanie was like 'yeah one time i literally got onto the plane with fake blood still on my face'

basically steven kreuger is everyone's fav cast member bc when they got ask whose death shocked them the most/they were saddest about they all said him 😭

they also hope he'll come back to haunt someone next season (nat or misty) so they can have more scenes with him

per the above point melanie said that alexa told her that mari was pit girl when they were walking in to sammi's baby shower so she just walked into the shower already sobbing

everyone joked that javi would've had to die at some point bc luciano grew up rlly fast and he wouldn't have looked like he was aging at the right rate LMAO

sammi is all in on all the fan theories and constantly reading reddit, meanwhile christina's google account is set to the wrong language and sophie nelisse sends melanie tik toks all the time but melanie doesn't know how to open them

when asked who they thought the final one standing would be they said they hoped it was more than one but if it's anyone they joked it was gonna be walter

talked a LOT about the details of the set and the outfits, sammi drew attention to the fact that even though the huts looked really advanced the showrunners put a lot of effort into making sure everything was plausible. like the wire holding much of the huts together is from the plane's electronics, etc.

she talked about how one of her wilderness outfits (i think for when they ate mari or during the hunt) was sewn out of the seats from the plane

the mod asked whether they thought the teens or adults were more scary and sammi brought up a rlly interesting point (aided by christina) that the teens generally seem 'scarier' because in the wilderness they have literally nothing to lose. but by the end of s3 they've once again lost everything (shauna losing jeff and callie, misty being all alone, tai losing van) that now they're starting to become more and more similar

and now, my favorite parts of the panel (aka mistynatgate)

so, the whole conversation begins with the final girl convo i previously mentioned and the mod asks them all if they've seen the discourse online about it and it devolved into a conversation about fan theories and reddit etc.

mod asks sammi what her favorite fan theory she's seen is after sammi mentions being chronically online and she goes "wow that's such a tough question...." and then thinks for a little bit and comes up with "well, i don't know but i really enjoy all the shipping and how people ship the characters together"

at this point melanie and christina are looking at sammi like girl fym and so sammi is like "yeah like saying how certain characters are in love and making edits of them and stuff" and then UNPROMPTED by the crowd or anyone:

sammi goes: "like mistynat!"

at this point everyone in the crowd loses their shit and christina is like wait HUH

and she goes "wait but nat is so mean to misty"

and they crowd is like playfully arguing and sammi goes "oh i have an edit i need to show you later then 😏"

HUH?? HUH?? TEARS IN MY MISTYNAT EYES

also other mistynat crumbs include: sammi mentioning sophie thatcher ANY chance she gets, telling the mod the thing she's most excited for in s4 is to see what happens to nat post-crash, and christina telling the mod that out of everyone she wants nat to come back and haunt misty because she wants to get "heckled by juliette"

whole room constantly losing it over this

a couple other cute things:

sammi told everyone the teen cast constantly sends edits and tik toks to each other and that their groupchat is called 'nasty 90s'

nuha (krystal) and nia (akilah) are flying down to cali next week and they're going on a road trip with sammi! 🥹

butcherqueen crumbs when mod asked melanie who she'd most want to be haunted by and she answered "simone. obviously, because....obviously" and then subsequently ranted about how courtney was the most gorgeous person to ever walk the earth

sammi getting emotional talking about alexa/mari dying and how sad she's going to be when she's not on set next season and subsequently going "well, no, she'll be there" like SAMMI??? WHAT DO YOU KNOW GIRL??

melanie telling a story about how they accidentally found out melissa survived to the adult tl because when they filmed the bar scene after nat's funeral the call sheet said 'adult melissa double' bc of the bathroom scene but the showrunners hadn't told them yet

and, finally: SOPHIE T SENDS THE NAT IMPRESSION TIK TOKS TO SAMMI ALL THE TIME 😭

anyway guys best 69 bucks i've ever spent and i'm never gonna stop thinking about this ok bye!

[anon-188]

pairing: AJ x f!reader | genre: smut ❤️‍🔥 | wc: 2.9k

summary: you didn't even make it to hello. AJ walked through the door, and all you could think about was how good he'd feel inside you.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), smut with some plot, established relationship, masturbation mention (light), unprotected sex, teasing, lingerie kink, oral (m!receiving), soft dom!AJ, rough sex, hand around throat (not choking), praise, dirty talk, possessive behavior, light manhandling, soft aftercare (kind of).

(tl;dr: it’s pure smut.)

a/n: alexa, play hey daddy (daddy’s home) by usher 🙂‍↕️ 

also—thank you to everyone who voted!! i hope you enjoy this one ♡

It had been a little over a week since you’d last seen or heard from AJ. No calls. No texts. Not even a one-word check-in. You knew why—he and his crew had just pulled off a heist. Perfect, as always. But with that came the cool down period. The time they’d disappear, lay low, and let the dust settle.

You hated this part.

Once you two were together—really together—AJ had made it clear: he didn’t want to bring any trouble back to you. If something went wrong—he didn’t want your name anywhere near it. So after every job, he left town for a week, maybe longer, depending on how hot things were.

And you? You stayed at his place.

Which, you were already staying over most nights, but this was different. He told you outright that it made him feel better knowing you were in his space, surrounded by the life he built, protected in the ways only he knew how to set up.

So you agreed. 

But safety didn’t ease the ache that came with his silence. Not even close.

And it wasn't even just missing him—it was like your body couldn't stand that he wasn't here. It ached, like some cruel punishment for him not being near. For not being able to have him when you wanted him. A luxury you always seemed to forget was a luxury—until he was gone.

You’d tried everything—wearing his shirts, spraying them with his cologne until the scent filled the room. You even dragged your fingers between your thighs in his bed, desperate to take the edge off. But nothing worked. Nothing compared to what you really needed: him.

As the sun slowly set, you laid across his bed, waiting. You knew he’d call eventually—whenever the hell that was. You sighed, long and heavy, and it was as if the sound itself conspired with the universe. Because right then, your phone rang.

AJ.

You sat up fast, answering on the first ring. And just like you’d hoped to hear—desperately needed to hear—he told you he was coming home.

Just a few more hours.

That was all that was left.

A few more hours until he’d be back. Until you could have him the way you needed him.

You turned your head, eyes catching on the dresser. And just like that, an idea sparked.

There it was—tucked in the back of his drawer. A black lingerie set. His favorite. The one that always pulled that look from him. The one that had him forgetting his own rules.

You put it on, letting the fabric cling in all the right places. Then you pulled on one of his button-ups—left it unbuttoned, sleeves rolled once.

And then you waited.

Patiently…

Or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Later, you found yourself on his couch—AJ’s button-up loose on your shoulders, one sleeve already slipping as you absently flipped through a worn magazine.

The anticipation built slow, thick, humming under your skin. But nothing—nothing—compared to the sound of the front door unlocking.

Your breath caught. You moved before you could even finish exhaling—feet hitting the floor, heart racing, the magazine discarded without a second thought.

You had a plan:

Be patient. Let him settle in. Offer a drink, maybe. Draw it out. Seduce him slow—make him give in completely.

But that went right out the fucking window the second your eyes landed on him.

And especially the second his eyes landed on you.

He froze in the doorway for half a second, the door falling shut behind him. A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth like he was trying to play it cool—but his eyes gave him away.

And you didn’t wait for him to say it.

He barely dropped his bag in time to catch you, your body crashing into his, arms and legs wrapped tight around him. His hands slid beneath your thighs, a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest.

“Missed me?” he murmured, already walking.

As soon as he reached the kitchen, he had you on the counter, your legs tightening around him again. Your hands were undoing his buttons while his palms roamed—tracing your thighs, brushing the lace you'd put on just for him. But that didn't stop him from teasing, grinning against your neck as he pressed slow, hot kisses there.

"Didn't even say hi," he muttered, lips dragging over your pulse. "You that needy, baby? Just couldn't wait to get your hands on me?"

You didn't answer—just pulled his mouth back to yours, kissing him, hard and urgent, like the ache in your chest had finally found relief.

"You dressed up just to jump me the second I walked in?" He pulled back with a breathless smirk.

“So you’re saying you don’t want this?” you shot back, slipping his button-up off your shoulders, revealing the full set beneath.

He leaned back just enough to take in the view, his eyes raking slowly over your chest to your thighs and back up to your face. "I didn't say that," his voice gravelly—too controlled. 

You smirked, bracing your hands against his chest and giving a light push, just enough to slide yourself off the counter and stand in front of him.

"Then stop teasing," you said, voice low against his mouth as you leaned into him and kissed him again. 

He laughed quietly, still pressed to your lips, both of you tugging his shirt down his arms, your hands already moving lower. 

You kissed down his chest, fingers dragging along his stomach as you worked open his belt, tugging the zipper next. Then you dropped to your knees as he stepped back, giving you space. Your hands slid into his waistband, and together you pushed his pants and briefs down just enough to free him—his cock already hard in your palm.

You looked up at him once, just once—and that was enough.

Your mouth wrapped around him like you'd been thinking about it all week—because you had. You started slow, your tongue tracing his tip before sliding lower, licking along the underside of his cock. Each pass was wetter, filthier than the last, your mouth taking more of him with every move. 

Above you, AJ groaned—low and ragged—his head tipping back as one hand slid into your hair. He didn't guide you, didn't force anything. Just held you there, his breath heavy, letting you take your time as you worked him over with slow, messy strokes of your tongue.

“Shit,” he muttered, voice strained, hips twitching slightly. “You really missed me, huh?”

You hummed around him, lips still wrapped tight, your eyes flicking up as you sucked him deeper. 

"Fuck." His voice cracked, a rasp barely above a whisper before he tugged you up, chest rising fast. His hands found your face and he kissed you hard, your lips still wet and slick from him.

He didn't bother breaking the kiss as you both started toward his bedroom, bodies locked together, your hands grabbing at him wherever they could. One of his hands stayed at your waist, guiding you backward, while the other slipped lower—past the curve of your hip, down the front of your panties.

His fingers found you fast, rubbing tight circles over your clit, even as you stumbled through the hallway—barely able to keep moving with the way he was already pulling you apart.

In the bedroom, AJ was finally stripped down, stretched out against the sheets like sin made flesh—black ink winding over his body beneath the soft glow spilling in from the windows. You were still in the lingerie set, the black lace hugging your body as you climbed over him, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. 

Your hands traced his chest first, then your mouth followed—pressing lower, just enough to make him twitch beneath you—before you kissed your way back up to his throat. Your lips paused at the small tattoo on his neck, lingering there with a kiss that pulled a quiet groan from his throat—before finally finding his mouth again, greedy and tongue-heavy.

AJ's hand slid behind you, fingers hooking into the lace of your underwear as he pulled them to the side. You leaned back just slightly, fingers wrapping around his length to line him up—a slow, teasing stroke, a shift of your hips, just enough to let his tip brush your entrance.

Then—

AJ bucked his hips up—not hard, but controlled. Intentional. Just enough to knock you forward, your hand flying out to catch yourself on the mattress just beside his head. Your face hovered inches above his now, lips parted, your teasing grin halfway gone.

“Thought you said no teasing,” he said, voice low and thick, eyes locked on yours like a loaded threat.

“Sorry,” you whispered, still smiling softly as you leaned down and kissed him—slow, deep, like an apology he could taste.

You leaned back again, one hand guiding him, the other braced against his chest as you lowered yourself onto his cock inch by inch. Your mouth parted in a gasp, eyes fluttering as he filled you. AJ groaned beneath you, head tipping back slightly, hands firm on your waist like he was holding back.

You started to move—rolling your hips, fucking yourself on him with a rhythm that was anything but sweet. Your hands stayed planted on his chest for balance as you rode him, moaning louder with every movement. AJ's fingers slid up your stomach, then caught the straps of your lingerie, pulling them down slowly until your tits spilled free, bouncing with every thrust. And his hands didn't stop there.

He thumbed over your nipples, squeezing your breasts like he couldn’t decide what he wanted more—to watch or to touch.

"Look at you, fuck..." he gritted out, breath catching as he watched you move. "Takin' me so well." His eyes stayed locked on where your bodies met, jaw tight.

Your moans echoed in the room, raw and shameless, but you didn't care. You had what you wanted—him inside you, thick and deep, making you feel so fucking good it bordered on unbearable. You moved faster, harder.

When you started to break—body tight, breath uneven—AJ sat up suddenly, mouth finding yours, kissing you deep as you kept riding him. His hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping your ass. Then he shifted, pulling you tighter against him as his mouth trailed lower—down your jaw, your neck—before closing around your nipple, sucking hard, tongue flicking just right.

It was too much—all of it. His mouth, his grip, the way he held you like he couldn’t get enough.

You came with a cry, hands twisted tight in his hair, your body seizing as your hips stuttered. AJ held you through it, one arm wrapped tight around your waist, the other still in your hair, keeping you close as your body trembled against his.

Your hips slowed—small, broken movements—as the waves of your orgasm faded. Your body melted into his, lips finding his in a slow, lingering kiss—soft, grateful. 

Then he pulled back.

You blinked down at him, breathing heavy, lips still parted as confusion flickered across your face.

“What, you thought we were done?” he said, voice low, already thick with intent.

His smirk returned—cocky, dark. "If you missed me so much..." His hand slid down your side, unhurried and calculated. "You can take a little more. Right?"

You knew exactly what he meant—what he planned to take. He may have said a little, but AJ never did anything half-assed. And that was exactly what you loved about this. About him.

You nodded, slow but certain.

“Good,” he murmured, kissing you once, deep and sure. “Lay down.”

You climbed off of him, your chest still rising and falling as you shifted on the bed. AJ followed, moving with you, one hand steady on your waist as he guided you down onto your back, laying you out across the cool sheets.

He hovered for a moment, eyes dragging over your body like he was already planning his next move. A slow smirk tugged at his lips.

“…What?” you asked, breathless, blinking up at him.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he went lower, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. Then he paused—lifting his head just enough to look at you again, eyes fixed on yours.

And then—without warning—he flipped you.

One hand gripped your waist, the other catching under your thigh as he turned you over fast, fluid. Your cheek hit the mattress, arms tucked beneath you, breath catching as your heart pounded.

He was already peeling your panties down, rougher now—lace tugged down your legs and off in one motion. Then he climbed over you, knees planting wide, his thighs bracketing yours as he gripped your hips and tilted them up, angling you exactly how he wanted—flat on your stomach, chest down, ass up.

"Just like that," he said behind you, his voice low.

And he didn’t wait.

His body shifted, hovering just above yours as his cock slid between your thighs, lining up with your entrance. One thrust—sharp, unforgiving—and you gasped, face turned down, fingers clenching the sheets.

Then his hand came down—pressing hard into the small of your back, pinning you in place as his hips snapped forward, fucking into you with a pace that was nowhere near gentle now. Your moans came out scattered between broken gasps as you lifted onto your elbows. 

"Fuck," he groaned, hand still planted firm against your back. "You put this on just for me?" His eyes dropped to the lingerie, what little of it still clung to your skin.

You whimpered, barely able to nod.

"I'm gonna ruin you in it," he growled, his thrusts hitting rougher now. "Gonna fuck you so good, you'll feel me every time you even think about putting it on."

You moaned, your elbows buckling slightly as he picked up the pace, hips slamming into you hard enough to make the bed jolt beneath you. His voice stayed low and rugged, every word landing just as deep as his cock.

You tried to breathe through it, tried to hold on, but your body was already giving out, your chest heaving, your thighs and stomach tightening under him.

You were close. So fucking close.

And he knew it.

AJ leaned over you more, one arm braced beside your shoulder while the other slid under your jaw, tilting your head back until your eyes met his—his face right above yours, watching you fall apart beneath him as he kept driving himself into you from behind. 

"This what you wanted, huh?" he rasped, voice rough between thrusts. "Me home, fucking you like this? That what you missed?"

"Yes—" you gasped, the word spilling out between sharp cries. "Yes... AJ, fuck—yes." Your voice cracked, the sounds caught between moans and desperate little whimpers that only made him go harder.

His hand slid from your jaw to your throat, the grip not too tight, but firm, commanding. He held you there, forced you to keep looking up at him as he crashed his mouth into yours, kissing you—hot, filthy, and bruising—swallowing your cries as he pounded into you without mercy.

“Show me how much you wanted this,” he said against your lips. “Let me feel it.”

And you did.

Your orgasm ripped through you—sharp and overwhelming, your body clenching around him so tightly it knocked a moan from his throat. His hand stayed firm around your neck as your whole body shook under him, back arching as you came—so fucking wrecked, just as his rhythm started to fall apart.

AJ's pace turned brutal—ragged, relentless. His hand moved from your throat to your back again, holding you down as he drove into you—each thrust rougher, more punishing than the last. And then he buried himself to the hilt with a groan, hips grinding deep, cock twitching inside you as he came—hard—your name breaking from him in a low, strained moan as he emptied himself completely, every muscle drawn tight, body shaking against yours. 

AJ finally pulled out with a low, satisfied breath. He moved beside you, body heavy against the mattress, and for a moment everything was quiet—just the sound of your breathing, still uneven. You used what little strength you had left to shift closer, your limbs slow and spent as you curled up next to him, tucking your body into his side.

He didn't say anything—just softly kissed the top of your head, while one hand dragged lazily down your spine. You looked up at him, eyes meeting his in the low light, and leaned in for another kiss. This one was deeper, slower, lingering. The kind of kiss that said more than words ever could. The kind that made it impossible to pretend like he hadn't been gone for days.

You hated when he left. Always had.

But you had to admit—you loved when he came home like this.

It made the waiting almost worth it.

please do not repost, copy, or claim my work as your own.

tag list: @alealuvshayden @haydenchristensenisbae @sythethecarrot

if you want to be tagged in my future posts, just let me know (comment or message me). i’m happy to do it! :)

links: masterlist

[aizshallnotbefound]

𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘪𝘥𝘰𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯, 2025 ver {please check out the a/n in the last!}

Liked by ttt , hoooooyeony , dlwlrma & 2,309,212 others

𝒀/𝒏 ✓ - xx 📸 View comments

User_steve - i love how they always match

User224 - alexa play fat juicy and wet

Usergdtop - i love how their still together after soooo long

User_todaelvr - its funny how y/n posts alot and top fans celebrate if he changes his pfp

User_gd - THE HAND.. THE HANDDDD 💗

User - my favourite couple ever <3

Userk8 - i need them both rn or ima explode Userbrunaur - THEIR STILL TOGETHER LETS GOOOO 😭😭

View 20k more comments

Author’s note :

FINALLY did choi seunghyun after a longgg time. this is a messy mini celeb post for him changing his pfp lol. and if you have doubts on the caption "2025 ver" is because i made a prev one which is set in 2015. and this is set in 2025. iv also decided to make this a new series "choi seunghyun x solo idol reader" and im talking full blown timeline yall from first meeting till current. so get ready! posts will be alot slower though cause i have some more collab posts lined up with my moots so im focusing on that rn. i hope you guys enjoy this new series!! (this series is kind of inspired by @rosones's "choi seunghyun x actress reader" go check it out!!

[lmk if you guys want to be in the taglist ^^]

Taglist:

@sherrayyyyy , @ldydeath , @eru-vande , @tulentiy, @infinetlyforgotten , @gdinthehouseee , @mashtatosworld , @loveesiren @breakmeoff @kwomikailea @heartubeatusalon @sylviavf @flwerangii @wcnderlnds @ttturnitup

[ likes , reposts , a follow & comments are encouraged and appreciated! <3 ]

[hyunjincanraptoo]

I seen your post "Hyunjin as Your Boyfriend" and I literally was dying it was so perfect!!!

I was wondering if you could could make a hyunjin and y/n first time? But like slow and passionate but also like unexpected,

Like maybe some thing about hyunjin invites y/n for dinner at his place and they end up doing it?

It's just a request you dont have to do it if you dont want to but I love your stories!💕

This request is so beautiful, tysm @strykdsstanot8. I changed a little tiny bit but I hope you like it 🫶

Warning: lowkey smut, that's all

Word count: 2.6k

You and I

Alexa, play You and I by Crush

Hyunjin’s heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest as he stood in front of the restaurant, waiting for his date— you. The bouquet of flowers in his hand was trembling slightly, and his feet just wouldn’t stay still. The concrete beneath him could’ve cracked from how much he had already paced around.

Hyunjin had always been aware of his beauty. He knew his features and physical traits made his face naturally attractive, harmoniously striking. But looking at his reflection in the restaurant’s window, he wasn’t so sure anymore. He wondered if the color and outfit combination really worked, if you’d actually like his new buzz cut, or if maybe he should’ve just covered it with a hat.

Oh, shit.

Why was he so nervous? It was you, after all, one of the people he felt the most chemistry with. Someone who truly understood him, made him feel seen and heard. And yet, he always got nervous before seeing you— a side effect of the passion he carried for you.

Passion.

But was it only that? The nervousness, the butterflies, the sweaty palms, the racing heartbeat. Maybe there was something more. Comfort. Trust. Companionship. Intimacy...

Even though things hadn’t gone beyond teasing touches and the occasional moment where you could feel his bulging pressing against your pelvis during a heated make out session. You were both taking things slow. Letting it bloom naturally, carefully— so you could mature and bloom something good, ripe, and strong in the future.

When he least expected it, your hand touched his shoulder gently. You had a soft smile on your lips, and he looked so lost in his own thoughts that it made him look incredibly cute. He turned quickly, startled, and you couldn’t hold back your giggle when he gasped and placed a hand over his chest, “Ah! You scared me!”

But that feeling didn’t last long. In a matter of seconds, he was completely mesmerized by your outfit, your hair, your face, your smile… everything. Everything about you knocked the air out of him, made his knees weak, “Wow… it’s like every time I see you, you somehow look even more breathtaking”. His words, though few, were enough to make you blush, “T-thank you, Hyunie. By the way… I really like your hair”

Point for Hyunie!

He stepped closer to you, slow and deliberate, placing his hands gently on your waist before leaning in— his lips inches from yours. Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath grew slightly heavier. He was addictive. And finally, his lips met yours in a deep, slow kiss, one that tasted of everything he’d been holding inside. Desire, warmth, anticipation, emotion— all of it poured into that kiss. When he pulled away, a soft, playful smirk lingered on his lips, as if he hadn’t just completely swept you off your feet.

Then, he lifted the bouquet and handed it to you, “For you, beautiful”. You smiled in return, bringing the flowers close to your nose and breathing in their sweet, fresh scent, “I love them”, you said softly. Offering you his arm, he smiled warmly, “Shall we?”.

And with that, he gently guided you inside the restaurant.

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

The lighting inside the restaurant was soft and golden, spreading a warm glow on the delicate table settings and glinting off the wine glasses— it was intimate without being overwhelming. He guided you to your table, his hand gently resting on your lower back. And as you both sat down, you noticed how his eyes kept drifting toward you, even when he was trying to read the menu. He was trying to play it cool, but you could feel it in the way his gaze lingered on your lips when you smiled, in the way his fingers tapped nervously against the stem of his glass.

“I hope you’re hungry”, he said with a soft chuckle, “I’ve been thinking about this dinner all week”. You raised an eyebrow, teasing, “The food… or the company?”. He grinned, leaning in just a little closer, “Do you even have to ask?”

The conversation flowed effortlessly— stories, laughter, little glances across the table that said more than words ever could. At some point, you were both leaning forward, your elbows resting on the table, sharing memories and inside jokes that made you forget the rest of the room even existed.

Then came the wine. Smooth, fullbodied, and just enough to make the air between you even warmer. He poured it slowly, watching the way the red liquid curled into your glass. “To us”, he said softly, raising his glass. You clinked yours gently against his, “To us”. He swirled the wine slowly in his glass, a glint of candlelight danced on the edge of the glass catching in the deep red of the wine. He looked calm, but his fingers still tapped lightly against the stem, a quiet rhythm that gave him away, "By the way", you said, leaning slightly closer, "How’s the move going?"

He let out a soft sigh, then chuckled, "Chaotic, mostly. I’ve got boxes everywhere and paint stains on every piece of clothing I own. But… it’s starting to feel like home”. You smiled at that, "Did you start decorating already?" "A little”, he said, eyes flicking up to meet yours. "Hung some of my paintings, rearranged the shelves… tried to make it feel more like me, I guess" "I bet it looks beautiful".

He looked down, a modest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "It’s getting there. Actually…". He paused, then looked at you again, a slight glint in his eye, "I was gonna wait to finish a few more things before inviting anyone over, but…". You raised a brow, amused, "But?" "But now I kind of want you to see it". He hesitated for a beat, then added, "Wanna come over after this? I could show you what I’ve done so far". You didn’t even try to hide your smile, "I’d love to".

His smile widened, almost like a kid who was just given permission to share a secret he’d been keeping, "Good. I think you’ll like it” “I’m hundred percent sure I will”. And just like that, the evening shifted— something soft and unspoken settling between you, the promise of warmth lingering in the air, just waiting to unfold behind another door.

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

Hyunjin’s room smelled like him. A masculine, soapy, fresh, indescribable scent— yet unmistakably his. The place wasn’t exactly the tidiest, but it overflowed with personality. The walls were covered in paintings and drawings he had made himself, and the shelves were filled with an eclectic mix of items: incense holders, art supplies, his camera, handmade ceramic pots.

He wasn’t just a work of art himself— he was also an artist.

On the floor, your eyes caught sight of a half finished canvas— two intertwined silhouettes, blending together until they became one. The caption underneath read:

"Loving you is my safe place"

You instinctively reached out to pick it up, but he gently caught your wrist, stopping you with care, “It’s a surprise”, he said softly. You smiled at his words, letting your hand fall gently back to your side as he released your wrist. There was something about the way he looked at you in that moment— soft, knowing, as if he was already painting the next scene in his mind, and the two of you were right at the center of it.

He moved around the room, lighting a cinnamon spiced vanilla single wick candle on the shelf near his window. Its soft glow flickered across the walls, dancing over the curves of his artwork and casting warm shadows across his face, “You want music?” he asked, voice low, a little playful.

Before you could answer, he picked up his phone and played something soft, slow— something that felt like silk against your skin. The melody wrapped around the two of you like smoke, lazy and sensual.

Then, without a word, he held out his hand.

You took it.

He pulled you gently toward him, guiding you into the center of the room. His other hand found your waist, and yours slid up to rest on his shoulder. The sway started slow, subtle, your bodies falling into rhythm naturally, as if they had danced this way before— maybe not in this life, but in another.

There was no rush. No pressure. Just you and him, heartbeats syncing, breaths slowing, closeness thickening with every passing second.

You could feel the warmth of his body through his clothes, the firmness of his chest beneath your palm, the brush of his thumb over your hip. His forehead rested lightly against yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke— because you didn’t need to, your bodies spoke for you.

Each movement was a whisper.

Each breath, a promise.

And when his hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, pressing you just a little closer, you felt it— that magnetic pull. That quiet, burning gravity that only grew stronger the longer you stayed in his arms. You weren’t just dancing, you were melting into each other.

The music faded into the background, but the rhythm between your bodies stayed alive— slow, deliberate, electric. You could feel the way his breath grew warmer against your skin, the way his hands no longer moved with hesitation but with purpose. He tilted his head slightly, brushing his nose against yours before capturing your lips in another kiss— deeper this time, slower. His lips moved like they were savoring you, tasting every sigh, every soft moan you tried to swallow.

Your hands tangled in the hair of his nape, and he groaned softly against your mouth. That sound alone sent a pulse straight down your core. Still holding you close, he guided you backwards, his body gently pressing into yours with every step until your knees hit the edge of his bed. You sat, breathless, looking up at him. He stood there for a second, just watching you— eyes dark, full of hunger, but also something tender. “You’re so beautiful”, he whispered, fingers tracing the line of your jaw, then down your neck, slow and possessive.

Then, he leaned down and kissed you again— this time deeper, rougher, his tongue sliding against yours, his hands exploring more boldly now. One moved down to your thigh, gripping and spreading your legs apart with a gentle but commanding touch as he stepped in between. Clothes started disappearing piece by piece.

His shirt.

Yours.

Your pants unbuttoned under his teasing fingers, his gaze following every inch of newly revealed skin like a starving artist admiring his muse. He kissed down your chest, tasting your skin, your sighs, the warmth of your body beneath his tongue. When his mouth closed around your nipple, you arched into him, moaning his name softly— almost like a prayer. His hands were everywhere— firm on your hips, soft on your ribs, sliding between your thighs, gently drawing out more reactions, more sounds, more of you.

And when he finally entered you, it wasn’t just sex— it was an unveiling. A discovery. He moved inside you slowly at first, deep and steady, like he was learning every part of your body by heart. His eyes never left yours, and it was impossible to tell where one of you ended and the other began.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, matching his rhythm as his name left your lips again and again— sometimes in whispers, sometimes in breathless moans.

It was intense. Messy. Intoxicating.

But there was caring in it too— in the way he held your hand, in the way he kissed your forehead between thrusts, in the way he kept asking if you were okay, if it felt good, if you wanted more.

You did. God, you did want more.

When your climax hit, it rolled through you like a wave, your body trembling under his, his voice low and broken in your ear as he followed seconds later, burying his face in your neck and groaning your name like it was the only word he knew.

And then, silence. Not empty, but full— full of afterglow, of shared breath, of hearts still racing together. He pulled you into his arms immediately, wrapping you in his warmth, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder, your hair, your temple. "You're okay?", he murmured. You nodded against his chest, "Perfect". He held you tighter, brushing his fingers up and down your back. You felt safe. Wanted. Loved.

And maybe that’s why it happened— why the words slipped from your lips so easily, without hesitation, “Hyunie” “Hum?” “I love you”.

There was a pause. A heartbeat of silence.

Then, his arms tightened slightly around you, and he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, “I love you too, beautiful”, he said, voice quiet but certain. And then he kissed you again— soft, slow, endless. Not out of lust, but out of love. As if he wanted to memorize what that moment tasted like forever.

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

The morning sun slipped softly through the gap in the curtains, painting your skin in warm, golden tones. Light caressed your face as you lay curled against Hyunjin’s chest, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing. The world outside existed, but here, in this room— time felt suspended.

You could still smell him on the sheets, on your skin— that warm, fresh, musky scent that was so him. His arm stayed wrapped around you, even in sleep, as if he instinctively knew you were something he never wanted to let go of. Then he moved slightly, mumbling something incoherent before slowly opening his eyes— sleepy, soft, and still a little dazed from the night before, “Hum… good morning”, he said, his voice rough with sleep, lips, somehow, still swollen from kisses.

You smiled, full of warmth and comfort, “Good morning, Hyunie”. He looked at you for a moment, like he was trying to figure out if the night had really happened or if it had just been too good to be true. But then his fingers brushed softly along your waist, tracing slow circles against your skin, and he murmured, “You’re still here… so it must be real”.

You laughed gently, and he pulled you even closer, nestling into the curve of your neck, “Did you know you sleep like an angel?”, he mumbled, “But you mess up the sheets like a storm”. You playfully smacked his shoulder, “That’s your fault”. He chuckled, “Maybe. I like the mess when it’s with you”.

The two of you stayed there for a while— lazily wrapped in each other, trading soft kisses and sleepy whispers. Hyunjin didn’t seem in any rush to leave the bed, and neither were you. His hands wandered slowly over your hair, your shoulder, your fingers intertwined with his— gentle, grounding, tender.

Eventually, he got up, slipping into a gray sweatpants and heading to the kitchen to make coffee. You watched him from the bed— his face marked from the pillow, his movements slow and sweet, a quiet smile on his lips. You still ached in the best way from him. And when he brought you a mug and sat beside you, leaning his shoulder into yours and resting his head lightly on you— it was perfect.

Simple. Soft. Warm.

The kind of love that didn’t need to be loud or flawless. It just needed to be real.

And it was.

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

[ghostlyferrettarot]

★Pick a Picture:⚡️🔥What is your It girl energy?🔥⚡️

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

🫧Join my Patreon for exclusive content!🫧

⚡️If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!⚡️

🔥Masterlist🔥

🔥Pile 1: The Devil, Queen of Swords and 2 of Pentacles.

Hi pile 1! Your girl energy is like Lisa Manoban. It gives off a grunge, rebellious, rock vibe. Many may see you as the “black sheep,” but that’s because your thoughts go beyond what others can understand. You don’t follow the rules, you create them!

You probably have a cool, more grungy and rebel style, which makes you irresistible to others. They are really drawn to your rebellious aura. You have the potential to go far with your unique ideas, a lider vibe, so keep it up.

Your unique personality and out-of-the-box way of thinking make you stand out. Don’t worry about what others think, stay authentic and true to yourself. That’s the key to success with your it girl energy.

🔥Song:

🔥Pile 2: The Empress, 10 of Pentacles and Knight of Wands.

Hi pile 2! Your It girl energy is Jennie Kim ; you have that spark that attracts everyone around you. You are self-assured and have an attitude that radiates confidence. It is clear that many people admire you and see you as a role model, since your presence is magnetic in many ways. Fashion and style can be important in your life, you could shine as a designer, creating trends and setting the trends in the fashion world.

Also, your ability to communicate with others and your charisma makes you a charming person, capable of captivating anyone you want. The fact that you move easily in public and know how to connect with people will open many doors for you in the future.

🔥Song:

🔥Pile 3: 6 of Swords, 5 of Pentacles and The Wheel of Fortune.

Hi pile 3! Your It girl energy is Alexa Demie. You radiate a Femme Fatale energy that attracts everyone around you. Although you may not realize it, your presence is captivating, you are an enigma that sparks curiosity in others.

You are like a magnet for attention, without even trying honestly; other's just want to know about you. Your mysterious and seductive aura makes you intimidating but people can't help but be drawn to your unique charm and enigmatic personality. Your vibe is unique and special, making you stand out from the crowd and be remembered for your captivating charm aswell as your dark feminine nature.

🔥Song:

⚡️🔥Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated 🔥⚡️